It was after 9pm when I arrived and threw my gear in the back. I needed food, a hot shower and sleep. I drove into the closest town and had a pork chop at the only diner before they closed, then I drove almost an hour from there to the closet motel, rented a room, got a bunch of snacks out of a vending machine and ate them while I soaked in the tub.

I thought this was nice-
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I slept hard that night. I had planned to get up bright and early to be at the base of the ridge at daylight to look for him, but that didn't happen. I woke up sometime around 9am and went to this awesome Garage and had a fantastic chili omelet-
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They even frosted the milk mug!-
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I had overheard some guys talking about guiding some dudes on a ranch and shooting a couple bulls while eating, and when I walked out-
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I drove back up to the trailhead, stopping briefly to check the zero just in case, which was perfect, loaded the gear and took off. I still believed with the info I had that I had put a bullet in the bull. But between the last night and the drive back I knew that there was no way that I could keep up the energy to continue going that hard if I hadn't. I had crushed myself to make it to those bulls, and it could take days to get another shot. I also knew that if I had blown the elk out the day prior that I might would have to go to a completely different area and start all over. I made it to the spot by early afternoon and paused briefly at the rock just trying to improve the mental picture that I had. I again noticed that there was almost no wind. Maybe 1-2mph at most, coming from right to left up the slope. I looked over to the right down slope towards and slightly below the tree line and could see the grass moving pretty well. I noted this and continued over to the timber, and again about a hundred yards from the rock the wind was 12 to 15 mph, right to left. Made it to where he was standing at the shot and looked for twenty minutes or so. No blood, no hair. Down into the timber on their tracks going very slowly looking for blood, hair, anything, and glassing ahead as far as I could see through the trees trying not to bump him if he was still in there.

I had sneaked within 200 yards or so of the hellhole on the backside, slowly cruising up and down, while moving that direction in case he veered off, doing my best to not slip or cause rocks to come loose when boom: 50 yards ahead off something went down into it. Curse. I moved up to where he was bedded hoping to find sign. Nothing.

I walked 30 to 40 yards higher and started back to the meadow, repeating the up and down zig zag. Nothing. All signs were pointing to a miss. I went back to where he was standing looking in the trees that were behind him, trying to locate the bullet. I could find nothing in the pines, but it looked from the angle that if it hit the dead trees, it would be 15 or 20 feet up. Hands and knees I searched for sign, making ever widening circles around the point. Back to the timber and I repeated the hands and knees thing. Nada. Dropped 50 yards or so down and did the up and down routine. Same.

I sat down and started looking at the terrain. The wind was coming up the slope at a relatively steady 12-15 mph. There was a valley that met up with this ridge at the bottom forming a "T" and the wind was zipping through the valley and up the slope, while that slight depression and the fact that there was the other smaller ridge straight across was blocking the wind at the rock from where I shot. I walked back to the rock and sure enough the wind just died once you got to the hump going into the depression. An 8 or 10 mph wind would've blown the bullet completely off the bull.

It's called micro terrain and I know better. At the rock it was plain as day. All it would have taken is just a quick glance down slope. I would have seen there was some wind, and at the very least held right edge. I also could have waited for the bull to turn broadside and either got the back edge of his lungs and liver, or far forward into the front of his chest. The thing is that I take the first makable shot offered. Too many people do not capitalize on opportunities because they he-haw waiting for the perfect shot in the future, instead of taking the good shot that is presented now. It wasn't the range. The range itself is a chip shot. Wasn't the position. I put a bunch of rounds from really terrible positions at way longer ranges and I know what shots I am capable of consistently making. Wasn't because the shot was rushed. I take the time it takes to make the shot. No more, no less.

Instead it was the simple fact of me taking for granted that the wind was stable from me to the bull. It is the first time that wind has gotten me on a big game animal at any range. It has been my experience that extremely experienced, competent shooters while not missing often, usually do it on mid range 300-500 yard shots. Those ranges are close enough that quick shots can be taken, yet far enough where wind, angle and position will bite you if not taken into account. I kill a lot of animals every year, and it has been three years since my last miss. Oddly it was at 369 yards, though due to a bad position, being rushed, and a small patch of vitals to shoot at. I killed that buck with the second round.




To be cont....