My left hand was both holding me on the rock and holding the forend of the rifle. My right foot was kind of hooked over the spine of the rock to the right, and both together made it rather stable.

He was facing to my right down the hill, and as I flicked the safety off out comes a rack straight behind him in the tree line. At first all I could see was a rack coming out of a ditch off the tree line because the other bull was blocking him, but it dwarfed the 5x. In my head I was screaming for the first bull to get out of the way. Finally the first bull took two or three steps forward and I had a clear view of the bigger bull. He was a 6x6 , and while I'm not a master scorer of elk, I've seen enough low 300 inch bulls to imeadiatley see he was big. He was facing me head on, my wobble zone was well inside the vitals and there wasn't a second thought in my mind; I put the reticle on the center of his chest, inline with the spine, took a deep breath, let it out and pressed the trigger. I saw the reticle lift off about two inches from center at the 10 o'clock before recoil nearly knocked me off the rock. I heard what sounded like the "thwack" of the bullet hitting tissue. By the time I pulled myself back into position, him and the 5x5 were running downhill and made it just into the tree line with again the smaller bull blocking the 6x6. I ranged it at 402 and all I could see was probably 6 inches of neck and his head above the back of the 5x. Bullets are cheap and my rule is that no matter what if they are on their feet or their head is up, I keep putting bullets in. I seriously contemplated shooting him in the head but didn't. They stood there for 10 or 15 seconds before dropping down in the ditch and going into the timber.

From the time peeked over the rock and I spotted them, to the shot felt like 5 seconds, but was in reality probably 20-25 seconds. It was hurried, but completely comfortable for me. Hurried but not rushed, if that makes sense.


I zeroed the turret, turned the power back down, and as I put my vest on and gathered my pack I snapped a picture to compare where he was standing at the shot, and where they went into the timber-
[Linked Image]

If you look basically dead center of the pic you'll see the pines in the background and a row of dead trees starting from center and going downhill. The bull was standing in the gap between the first dead tree on the left and the second.


It took a bit to get to where they went into the timber, and about 100 yards from the rock I noticed that the wind had picked up quite a bit. The whole way I replayed the shot in my mind. I knew that I had executed the shot well- I saw the crosshair lift off in recoil, the range was spot on and I heard the impact. But I also knew from having killed a lot of big game with that rifle/bullet combo, that at the angle of the shot that bull should have been laying in his tracks. As well he didn't act as if he was hit when he ran to the timber and I had watched him for almost twenty seconds just stand there. I found their tracks in the timber, but no blood. Took off my pack to mark it and went in. It was nearly dark however I had just enough light to see. I followed the tracks for 150 yards or so, most of it in the snow, when I bumped into them. They took off down towards the backside of the ridge which was a straight hellhole. Hoping he would stop before going over, I turned around and zig-zagged up and down, back out to my gear looking for blood checking to make sure that he didn't peel off from the others. It was dark by the time that I reached my pack, I found no signs of a hit, and I was smoked. I mean done. No energy and I was slightly dizzy. I marked the spot in my GPS, got out my emergency bag, and ate the snickers that was in it. My deal was that once that bag was opened for any reason, I was going out. What was left of my water/snow combination was frozen, with me only being able to get a slight sip. I packed up and took a round about route back down to the gear, trying to make it easier. My lower legs were so fatigued that it was hard to lock my feet straight flat and get the boot soles to "bite in" the ground so I kept slipping. Finally I reached the pack and made my way back out to the truck.




To be cont....