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Post by Steve Fuhrman on Oct 4, 2013 12:16:31 GMT -6
If you have ever hunted with a weapon or with a camera, you have a hunting story to be told. Please tell it here.
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Post by Steve Fuhrman on Jul 13, 2016 9:38:54 GMT -6
They Are Bigger Than I Thought
This hunt was my first elk hunt in November 2001
I waited a couple of years to write this story. Not because I didn’t think it had good content or learning potential, but instead because I wanted to keep it to myself a bit.
Just to give you a bit of background, I, until now, have been mostly a deer hunter. I’m not a trophy hunter, but I wouldn’t hesitate to take one. I love hunting for the fellowship with my brothers and fellow hunters, and the serenity of the great outdoors. I crave the challenge of hunting species like deer and elk, because of their keen senses and unpredictability. I give each of these animals a great deal of respect and would never kill one without the intentions of eating it. The best part of hunting is that I get to enjoy the success of the hunt though out the year every time I have venison for dinner.
My most blessed year of hunting to date was 2001. I managed to go deer hunting in Minnesota with my brothers and then go on an adventure to Colorado elk hunting. This was the first elk hunt for all three of us. I personally had a long dry spell in the previous 4 deer hunting trips until this one, when my hunting buddies did a small drive towards me giving me the ultimate opportunity to down a nice little fork horn and break the ice again. I’m not going to tell you how many shots it took, because it wasn‘t pretty. Maybe I’ll write about that one someday too.
Back to Colorado. We were hunting the late season because of work schedules and the fact that we wanted to hunt deer in Minnesota like every other year. We arrived at our location on Thursday noon, and set up camp in haste at about 9,000 ft. It was unseasonably warm that fall so we were way higher then weather would have permitted us on most years. We had the afternoon of Thursday and one more full day of scouting Friday, to put together a game plan. The problem was none of us had ever seen this country before.
We spent Thursday afternoon driving the fire trails, trying to get the lay of the land. Watching our maps and GPS units, we managed to get a pretty good idea of what we were in store for. At least that's what I thought.
On Friday morning after a great fresh venison breakfast we set out to plan our hunt. We drove about two miles up a fire trial from camp when my brother Scott spotted two bull elk standing on a ledge about one mile north and 800 ft. up from our position. We, being over exited, stood by the truck and glassed the elk trying to figure out how we would ever be able to get up close to those big boys. The joy and excitement in our voices was easy to hear. I think the bulls heard it too, because they decided to move on over the ridge to the north side of the mountain. It was then we decided to name that spot “Elk Mountain.”
We spent the rest of the day scouting, glassing, and searching for elk sign, but being a green horn in elk country, I found myself pretty overwhelmed by the vast size of the wilderness. We kept going back to look at Elk Mountain from every different angle, and finally decided that was the right spot for us to start. Rightfully so, for it was where we saw the elk.
Back at camp that evening we cooked up a wonderful dinner, yes venison, and made our preparations for the morning hunt, checking our weapons arranging our clothes and of course telling hunting stories, but the conversation always seemed to go back to the two elk we saw earlier that morning. I had brought several elk hunting books along, so we retired early all three of us falling asleep with books in our hands and great hunting dreams in our heads.
Saturday morning finally arrived. It was one of the longest nights I have ever spent. I don’t think I got more than one hour straight of sleep that night, but the excitement in the camp made it a null issue. I’m certain my brothers didn’t do much better. Jeff drove one truck around to the north side of Elk Mountain, to walk up the dark North Slope, while Scott and I drove to the south side. My plan was to walk up a power line clearing that went over the mountain about two hundred yards west of where we had seen the elk. Scott was to walk up a fence line to the northwest and flank that side of the ridge. That was about all we could come up with for a plan. We figured we’d end up meeting at the top just after light and compare notes and work our way down to the elk for an ambush. I just didn’t know I would have so many notes.
Early morning, it was still dark and a bit nippy about 20 degrees. There was a slight wind swirling around. I could not figure out which way it was blowing. I started my long hike. I had to walk down hill 200 yards and through a ravine before I could start my ascend. It was still dark when I reached the bottom, but I found a place to cross the shallow creek and started heading up. The power line clearing I was following, was about forty yards wide and had a few patches of shrubs on the lower half, 10 to 20 feet in diameter scattered about. As I passed one patch I heard a noise. I froze. It sounded like a dog panting. “What the He..?” I stood still for about 30 seconds before I got spooked. I found myself out there in that vast wilderness and hearing something I straight up could not see. It was a little alarming. I had my 30.06 loaded and pointing at the bush. I stared into the bush until I thought I couldn‘t take it any more. “No way was this an elk, so there isn’t any reason for me to hang around.” I thought. I could vision mountain lions, bears, and coyotes. I had never encountered any of these species before, and didn’t care to start then.
I decided to put a little space between the possessed bush and me. I marched about a hundred yards up the mountain along the edge of the clearing to my right. It was then that I realized that the oxygen level wasn’t like I was used to, so I stopped for a break. After resting a few minutes, I was convinced I would never regain my breath, and the top of the ridge looked a long way away. I started my climb again at a much slower pace. I noticed that the grade was steep between the spans of power line towers but the man made plateaus built to hold the towers were level. Those plateaus made for a nice break on my legs. The morning light finally arrived and I was about half way to the top in stalking mode at a slow pace.
Suddenly there was loud crashing and commotion not far from me. It sounded like trees falling and branches breaking. I remember thinking. “Trees do make noise when they fall in the woods.” I looked up and about 75 yards away was this massive bull elk running from the edge I was walking, across the clearing on the next plateau above me. He wasn’t moseying, he wasn’t trotting, he was running! I vividly recall the noise I heard. His hooves were pounding on the grass-laden earth, and what sounded to me like bones cracking or popping. His antlers were so huge they looked to be touching his butt. His grandiosity was indescribable. He had to have at least five points on each side. I pulled up my gun but before I could get a bead on it, he vanished into the woods to my left, breaking branches and kicking up dirt. This went by so fast that I didn‘t even have time to mentally react to it. I then realized there was still more noise to my right. That got my heart pumping and brain going. The adrenalin in my body felt like it was going to just going to jump out of me. I found the closest log and crouched down beside it like I was in a combat zone. I peered over the log and got glimpses of a lesser bull elk bulldozing its way down hill to my right. I got my sites on him a couple of times briefly, but each time when I was about ready to pull the trigger, he’d disappear behind trees and blow downs.
After he was out of site, I collapsed for a moment, shaking convulsively. I tried to put to gather what just took place. “Those things are huge” was the first thought. “Crap!” Was the second thought. It was not until then that I looked at my scope. To my discovery, I had it set on 9X. It's better that I don’t write what I thought for the next minute or so. After I got my composer back, I reset the scope and decided to pursue the elk I seen last, the lesser one. I call it the lesser one, but it was still the biggest animal I have ever pursued in my life, about four to five points on each side.
My mind was racing fast and my heart was pounding hard. How could a green horn elk hunter like me, stumble across two bull elk 10 minutes into his first season? What possibly could the odds of that be? Into the woods I went tracking an elk I never even shot at. My thought was to learn how elk operate under pressure. I was well versed on how Minnesota whitetails reacted, but had no clue as to the elk. I wanted to know where he was going. It wasn’t hard to pick up his trail. I climbed over blow downs and under half downs. I tracked him down hill for about 150 yards until his tracks turned and went straight up the mountain and over the peek to the north side. I was about half way up the trail following him, when I got to hear a bull elk bugle in the wild for the first time. It was tremendous. It was so beautiful it put goose bumps on my entire body. It echoed about the canyon for all to hear. “Was that the same elk?” I thought.
When I finally reached the ridge of Elk Mountain, I took up a perch behind a rock and under a little shrub were I had a nice view of the steep slope and valley below. I also had about a 200 yards view of the ridge we had spotted the two elk on the previous morning. I sat still, admiring all of the beautiful country. I was in awe of all the miracles of Mother Nature around me. The recent memories of my missed opportunities were actually comforting, just knowing that I had those opportunities. “This is what hunting is all about.” I said to myself. “Could it get any better?”
Wild game like the elk that the Lord has given us, deserve a great deal of respect. Their magnificence can not be measured by the size of their antlers but rather the survival skills they possess in their world. I did not get to put my tag on those two elk, but that does not diminish the thrill of that hunt, instead it improves my awareness of the natural instincts that these animals have, and the habitat they live in. I have learned a great deal from this hunting experience. Whether you are a novice or a expert hunter, with guns, or with cameras, I hope you can take home a speck of this experience, knowing full well that hunting is a privilege that should not be taken for granted. The experiences we get to enjoy in the wilderness while we are hunting, and the fellowship with our fellow hunters at camp, are so much more important then the kill.
Steve
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