The only elk I've gotten out whole (that is to say, field-dressed) have been taken on private land. One was a 6x7 that rolled down the hill after being dropped, ending up close enough to a road it could be winched into the back of a 3/4-ton pickup.
One was a spike my wife shot on a rancher friend's land 25 years ago on December 1st, the last day of the Montana rifle season. It dropped 150 yards from a logging road. The snow that fell on the road during the previous few weeks had melted, then frozen into two ice-slick ruts. There were five of us there, and after gutting the spike we dragged it across a narrow willow draw to the road. When I started to drag it down the ice-rut the elk overran me, and I had to jump out of the way as it slid down the road.
The pickup was parked maybe 400 yards down the road. If had been facing the other way, with tailgate down, the elk might have zoomed right into the bed. Instead we had to lift it in.
