I was able to recover from the recoil, only losing the sight picture briefly, by the time the bullet had impacted. The bull was quartered slightly away, and it entered just behind the last rib, angling up into the liver and lungs. He took a couple quick steps and turned broadside. The next one was two inches behind the shoulder line. With that he dropped, laying down briefly before starting the kickin' chicken stumble for forty or fifty yards down the slope. By now he was only 30 yards or so from the drop off and still heading that way. I wanted to stop him so the next time he paused I put the final round in the center of his neck. He collapsed. His momentum carried him down hill, sliding until he got hung up in a deep patch of snow at the base of a tree.

I reloaded, and stayed on him for several minutes. Once satisfied that he was down for good, I marked my position in the GPS, broke out the map and compass and plotted where he should be. Looking at it I thought that I could drop back down the ridge, come in the valley from the left, and hopefully be able to pick my way up. If not I would have to come up over the backside which would probably take 4 or 5 hours.

I had left the main pack at my original glassing spot, so I swung by, loaded up, and ate a snack before following that goat trail down and out. It was after eight by the time I reached the valley (or I should say draw) going up below the elk. The bottom was extremely narrow and covered in basketball, to TV sized, rocks which they themselves were under a foot and a half of snow. At parts it was so narrow that I could almost touch both sides with my outstretched hands. I slowly made my way up, using the sticks to feel where it was stable enough to stand, but even with that I ate it. A bunch. I would step on what seemed like a flat spot and then slide off banging the snot out of my shins. Or the rocks would roll over. Or I would end up stepping between two rocks, trapping my foot.

By eleven it had reached the point of absurdity. I sat down, pulled out the map, plotted my position and looked. The temperature had dropped again. The "trail" was getting worse and I had hit blowdown central on top of it. I still had half a mile and 1,800 feet or so of elevation to get to the elk. Objectively I knew that if I kept going I would very likely be injured seriously. I also had to send an "ok" message out because the next day at 10am was my drop dead time and if I didn't they would call S&R. I mad the decision to pull out, swing around the ridge and come up the backside, dropping over the top.

I made it out to where I could get a signal, sent the all ok message, found where I wanted to start up the mountain and got a couple of hours of sleep. The next morning before light, I started up. While it was quite steep and a bit of a haul it was rather uneventful all the way in. Took just over 4 hours to reach him. When I got there his antlers were hung up in the tree. As soon as I pulled him free he started sliding. He slid maybe 10 or 15 yards and stopped. Carefully I maneuvered him onto a slight flat for the obligatory pictures and quartering.



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That over I broke out the knives and went to work. No sooner did I get the head off and he started sliding. I held onto one of the legs and tried to dig my heels in. Nope. I was going with him. I let go and- "swoosh" there he goes over the lip. Noooo!!!

As quickly as I could I gathered everything up, cursing myself for not tying him off. Strapped the head to the pack and eased my way over to where he slid off. I could see the slide he made in the snow all the way down. I couldn't see him and it didn't look like I would be able to get down that way, so I marked the spot, and back up and over I went. Dropped the head and extra gear off, emptied the pack, and traded the rifle for a Glock. Once seeing the draw where I was the night before in daylight it was much easier going, and I made it where I should've been directly below him in half the time. It wasn't long as I went up before I found it, and I was able to just give him a slight nudge a couple of times and he slid in the snow all the way down. Once at the bottom I finished quartering him up, and laying the quarters in the snow, as I was worried about spoilage.

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Some maybe more comfortable with how long an elk can last and still be good, I'm not. I've seen deer start to turn after only a few hours. Of course I've had some that had to be left overnight and were perfectly fine as well, but elk skin is way thicker than a deer's and they have way more meat to hold heat in.

Anyways It started getting dark by then so I built a-

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And grilled a bit-
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Afterwards I covered the meat in snow, packed up a quarter, the back straps, tenderloins and neck meat and out I went.



Arriving at the truck with trip number 2-
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Number 3 and it had started to rain/snow/sleet-
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The fourth and last trip was a wet, sloppy, freezing mess-
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With all the meat out, I packed up, dropped it off with a processor, and drove east for deer.



To be cont.....