Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game Rowdy tags his first elk

My son turned 12 this summer, which meant he would finally be able to hunt big-game in Idaho. I'm not sure which of us was more excited at the prospect, but it was a close race for sure.

He applied for an early season cow tag, and was successful in the application process. I didn't particularly relish the idea of hunting in August, but our schedules dictated as much this year.

We started scouting in July, and the initial signs weren't great. There were a few elk in the unit, but not a lot by any stretch of the imagination. Worse still, IDFG had doubled the number of tags from the previous year and it seemed like all of southern Idaho was scouting/hunting with us.

Opening weekend came and went without much happening. Here he is getting his first peek at the area we would primarily concentrate on...



Its not flat country,



and Rowdy soon came to know the value of some tape on the heels..



He hiked his azz off, and I couldn't have been prouder of the fortitude he showed over the course of the season. Still though, he's just 12 and there were times the country got the better of him...



We hunted and scouted for three straight weekends, giving it all we had. Other camps were still cold and dark when we passed them in the mornings, and when we returned to camp in the evening via headlamps, most were already done with supper and settled into slumber.

Labor Day weekend would be the last opportunity we had to make a go of it. He had an invite to leave town with a buddy for a holiday weekend of fun, or return for some more misery on the mountain with me. I didn't pressure him one way or the other, but in the end I was proud of him for embracing the opportunity for one last chance at his first elk.

We headed up Friday as soon as school let out, and were on the mountain by dark looking for elk. We managed to spot a bull and four cows/calves right at dark, but they were at least two miles away and there just wasn't enough light left to get on them. Saturday morning didn't reveal anything, and we decided to push deeper into the country on Saturday evening.

We made it over to the area we had spotted them from the day before, but alas we weren't able to locate any where we got there. With the sun starting to settle, we packed up and started the long hike out. There was maybe 30 minutes of light left as we started up the last big hill and I caught a whiff of elk scent. I stopped in my tracks and tried to locate the direction of the evening thermals when Rowdy said, "Dad! There's an elk!". I looked up the draw to the direction he was pointing just in time to see a rag-horn bull step into the timber about 150 yards above us.

He didn't seem particularly spooked, so we started up the drainage towards where he had gone as quickly and quietly as we could. When we arrived, I pointed out his tracks to Rowdy and was talking to him about the whole incident when I heard a branch break off to our left, down in some thick aspens. I had a hunch what was about to happen and dropped down on one knee and spread the shooting sticks out as quickly as I could.

Seconds later a cow and calf exploded out from just underneath us and started up the hill. They were in the open at about 100 yards, but moving fast. I started "mewing" with my mouth as best I could, and to my utter amazement, they stopped just as they hit the thick timber. The cow was mostly covered by two trees, but there was a VERY narrow window to shoot through from my perspective. Rowdy found her in the scope, and asked if I was SURE it was a cow. I responded that I was, and asked if he thought he could make the shot. He nodded his head, and flipped the safety off as further confirmation. A second later his 7mm-08 barked.

The whole incident had occurred over the course of maybe 15 seconds. The cow immediately turned to run downhill, and I could see she was in trouble right away. She managed to make it about 40 yards before she went down, but was still trying to regain her footing when Rowdy finished her off with two more follow-up shots. The last two were unnecessary in hindsight, but if they're still alive it's been my experience it's a good idea to keep shooting.

Here is the photo of him seconds after the shot...



When the reality set in of what he'd done, we hugged each other for what seemed like an eternity. I may have enjoyed happier moments in my life, but I'll be damned if I can recall one right now.

Light was fading fast, so I snapped a couple of pictures before the opportunity was lost.



We quartered her by headlamp, and he was a great assistant in the process. He asked lots of questions, and I feel really good about how much he learned about breaking an elk down. We had the quarters hanging by 10:00 that night, and started up the hill shortly thereafter. It was close to midnight when we arrived back at camp.

We slept in until about 7:00 the next morning, and headed back with packframes on and our bellies full of a good breakfast. Here he is when we arrive...

[img]http://s25.postimg.org/w8qi3a8xr/image.jpg[/img]

The first few steps downhill were a little wobbly, but he managed to keep his footing and quickly adjusted to the reality of the weight upon his back...

[img]http://s25.postimg.org/3ls377xz3/image.jpg[/img]

He would soon realize that going down was much preferred to climbing up with that same load.

[img]http://s25.postimg.org/vfdwao2wv/image.jpg[/img]

It wasn't an easy climb, but once again he proved his mettle by not whining even once. He kept his head down and grinded it out just like every elk hunter before him.

Arrival at the top of the hill was a welcome respite, even if his expression doesn't reflect it.

[img]http://s25.postimg.org/e4nhinb9b/image.jpg[/img]

That last climb out felt like we were summiting Everest, and was just as satisfying when we made it to the top.

After a drink of water to replenish our lost fluids, we continued on towards camp. It was all downhill from there, and the last leg of the haul was considerably easier.

After a bite to eat in camp, we headed back to repeat the whole process again. It was just as miserable/rewarding the second time, though our packs felt just a little bit lighter knowing it was the last load.

With the last two quarters loaded into the coolers, we packed up camp and headed south for home. It had been a long 24 hours, and sleep took hold of him on the three hour drive back.

It's tough to accurately convey my feelings in writing, but I will say that my heart has never felt fuller as I gazed at my sleeping son during the drive home. We managed to get the meat dropped off at the butcher late last night, and he is sleeping in as I type the account this morning. He needs to get the lawn mowed today, but I think maybe I'll give him a few more minutes. I think he's earned it.

Dave