I was 13, not of age for a license, but working a colt and went elk hunting with dad on public land. About a foot of snow. Dad took off across a little park to try to head some elk when they cleared the next timber patch, but my colt was a little goosey,
so I was going easy. Heard a loud buzz, snow kicked up ahead, then the report. Twice more, once underneath. Hollered LOUD and
bucked and ran for timber. Don't know how far off the shooter was, but glad he missed. How a skinny kid on a sorrel horse, all oranged up, resembles an elk, I still don't know.
Shot a nice little 3x4 mule deer opening morning in 1996 up on the north face of Ellison Mtn outside Meeker, went back to camp, they informed me other hunters in our camp had three bulls down.
Took us a day and a half to get the bulls out, went back for my mule deer and the bears had found him, had a feeding frenzy on him, then buried him in the snow fer a re-dine later.
Pretty spooky looking stuff when you can read all that went on there in the snow.
