For years I have organized and planned our hunts and we have been very successful. This year I encouraged the younger guys to plan it. I�m trying not to be overly controlling and I was up for doing something new. The plan they established was to use a rented pack horse to put a spike camp about 5 miles into a wilderness area in Unit 54. This year my game cart, canvas tent, and ATV would all left at home in my toybox. The plan was keep horse feed at the base camp and each day a different hunter would take a turn leading the horse in to re-supply the spike camp. There he would hand off the horse to another hunter who would (hopefully) be ferrying out a load of elk meat and enjoy one night of relative luxury out at base camp caring for the horse.
Just prior to opening day our hunt location got pretty well hammered by 2 days of rain from the tail end of a hurricane. It was a muddy mess. Not what we expected for 1st season.
After the hunt ended we spoke to other hunters who had hunted not far away around the other side of the range and they said they were hoping for more of the snow and weather that we got. Our spike camp down in West Elk Creek was actually at a lower elevation than our base camp. We never saw tracks from anyone other than our own party the entire week.
For the opening day I drew short straw while the other 3 guys had the cat bird seat back in spike camp. That afternoon I arrived at spike camp and handed off the horse. They hadn't seen anything.
The 2nd day of the season I set out from spike camp in a full blizzard. I had bivyed in a one-man Cabelas tent that was Spartan but comfortable.
I hunted in the black timber for what cover it provided from the storm. It was terrifying when a huge tree would fall from the wind. I could hear the trunks begin to break and look around but since all of the trees were swaying it was impossible to tell which one was the one actually falling until it was terminal. I moved to within about 60 yards of a 5x5 bull in the timber during the blizzard and wished I had a bull tag.
The crux of the hunt occurred on Monday, 3 days into the season, on the first clear morning. Looking at the mountains from the valley floor I saw a zigzag trail about 10ft wide where a herd had passed over the range the previous night. A steep vertical gorge stepped with waterfalls led up to near where the elk trail descended. The elk would most likely be resting above in a grassy bowl with springs that fed into this gorge. I could climb to the ridge on the right of the gorge and probably get a long shot, or go to the left through thicker timber. Once I committed there would be no crossing to the other side. I reasoned that silent snow is a rare gift indeed while opportunities at long shots are not as hard to come by and could end as fools gold. I went for the thicker timber.
Slowly I climbed about 1000 vertical ft from the valley floor up to near timberline where I estimated the herd would be resting. Near treeline the forest floor was torn up with elk tracks, beds, sign, and it smelled elky. I had unexpectedly climbed right into their lair. I caught a glimpse of a cow moving through timber. I didn�t expect that I would be able to stalk them without any breeze but I also knew that in a herd this big there were always some individuals who don�t get the message, heed the warnings, or remain when the sentries bark a danger call. I never got another glimpse of that cow. Ten more minutes and another few hundred feet higher another cow grazed for forage through the snow.
At the sound of my shot more elk bolted from hidden locations. My elk took several leaps in an semicircle. Her steering seemed to go only one direction. My bullet had taken out her upper foreleg on the opposite side. Her death leap lodged her firmly between two spruce tree trunks.
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Less than 100 yard shot. 7mmRM, factory loads � 160gr Federal Trophy Copper.
My water bottle had run dry early that day and in the excitement of the hunt and I never thought about it again until late in the afternoon, hours later, well after the animal was field dressed. I remember that celebration drink tasted great � unfiltered spring water from timberline.
The next day the nearest rendezvous point for the horse was actually 300 vertical ft above the kill on a ridge at 11,600ft. We ferried loads of boned-out meat like Sherpas up a steep snow slope to meet the horse. Crampons would have been a good idea.
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Hauling elk out of the gorge to the ridge.
That evening I was leading the horse loaded with my elk up through the pass in the background of the photo below. I heard a rifle shot behind me. Mike had taken another cow very close to the rendezvous point we had just left. About the time this photo is taken I was reaching the top of the pass.
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Mike has killed an elk every year now in his first 3 years elk hunting. All of them DIY and on public land. We guessed his was about a 300 yd shot, 7mm Barnes VorTx factory loads.
In recent years it is never a sure thing that I will be able to meet the physical demands of an elk hunt. I am grateful for every hunting season I am given. I�ll never forget this hunt (not that I forget any of them) but it was just as much an adventure as a hunt.
Huge thanks to KC who gave me a few tips that really helped to plan a hunt in a unit that was new to me. Home field is everything in elk hunting and it was nice to get one on the road.
Next week begins my bull elk hunt in the Sangre de Cristos. My freezer is stocked and I've got plenty of antlers but I'm looking forward to the solo hunt and being alone with my thoughts.
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