I was part of a small group which went west for elk hunting this year. As if there was any other direction to go from here. Three hunters, one observer. Our observer, my brother in law, has had horses for ages, wanted to accompany us for the adventure and ended up having the time of his life. We booked a horse packing trip to the Fitzpatrick Wilderness with Blake Chamley. Booked it last year and were only able to get in because other hunters who had previously booked were deployed. Thanks for your service men, we tried to do you right. I think we did.
We stayed in Dubois at the Stagecoach and ate at the Cowboy Cafe the first night, no issues at all on that deal and would recommend. 6am the next morning, the outfitter and his bride were there to round us up, stopped for a morning wake up drink and off to the corrals. By 930, we were loaded and saddled and on the trail. Four dudes, the outfitter and the camp jack and about 15 assorted mules and horses. I had not been on a horse since about 1983 and it all went better than expected. No issues. We parked at the corrals at about 6400', rode in about ten miles as the crow flies and up over 10,000' into camp at 9400'. Camp was situated on a live creek, about six wall tents arranged with a corral etc. It was a clean comfortable camp and well situated. They'd had snow before we arrived and so the elk were lower than camp. Every day was up and over the cliff and down into elk country. I can see that many years, one would hunt a different direction from camp.
On the first night, the bear dog treed a small black bear in camp and so that was a ruckus of a pleasant nature. The food and fellowship on this trip was fantastic. Can't say enough about the outfitter, the cook, the guides, the camp jack. All wonderful.
On day one, a Sunday and opening day, we bugled up a bull in some timber and he gave us the slip. There might have been some opening day f'ing around there but who's to say. We saw around 40 more that day, including two shooters, but at a distance. I was paired with a nice guy from Kansas, two on one and I let him have first shot. He'd been bowhunting a few days without success and I was fresh.
The real activity that day was in the other pairing. My nephew drew the first shot, our friend had sloppy seconds. As they were talking to a six point in the timber, our friend figured out that he could see the bull, while the guide and nephew could not. He got their attention and the ok to take the shot. He did, and bull runs off a bit. In the ensuing melee, a herd of 30-40 runs past my nephew and the upshot is that they had two six points down within about 30 feet of each other. They boned out the elk, and decided they were closer to the trailhead than camp, so began to pack out. As it turned out they passed below our afternoon spotting location, and so we rode down to meet them and get the story, as related above. My nephew then rode with us the rest of the day, while friend and guide packed out to return the next day. We used a homemade meat box left in the pickup to keep and cool and transport our meat. Plywood with foam board in the middle and masonite on the inside. Dry ice worked fabulously the whole time.
On Monday, it was just plain nasty out. Low visibility, lots of squalls moving through, so I bagged it. I wasn't feeling the best, we already had two bulls, and I had three days left to hunt. We hung out with the cook, listened to the radio, tended the horses and enjoyed ourselves. We expected our friend back in camp but he didn't make it. He'd bought a wolf tag in town and on their way back up the mountain, they heard wolves howling so investigated. They found approx 11 wolves hunting a herd of about 30 elk. They were able to slip in on them all by howling back. In the confusion, they found themselves surrounded by wolves and friend was able to connect on a 70 pound gray/white wolf. Guide borrows friend's rifle and does the same, and so down the mountain they went, this time with two wolves. They had to check them in, give tissue samples etc.
On Tuesday we were up and out early, in the fresh snow. We tracked a bear up the hill for quite a while but didn't see him ever. Then down the mountain and found lots of elk tracks that morning but no elk standing in them. About noon, the day warmed up, the melt was on and so we climbed a butte to get some cell service. While talking to my wife for the first time in three days, I noted a small herd of elk in the distance. (My lungs aren't much any more but my eyes are still crazy good.) My guide didn't think they were elk (we left our binocs with the horses) but he went to investigate further. Soon he comes running back as the "bushes" were moving and off we rode in that direction. As we did, we saw a six point walking toward us from that herd and we spent an hour trying to connect on him as he navigated a steep snowy timbered hill side. The timber was too thick and no ethical shot was offered. At the very last, he was in the clear on a ridge top, broadside, at 300 yards but the angles were all wrong to get a good solid rest, and I opted to let him go. He was an hour climb from our location and if anything went wrong he'd have been out of view and gone in a flash. I like to shoot things at halitosis distance.
We then moved in on what was left of the previously located herd. We quickly found ourselves pinned down by two cows, so took a nap in a meadow. When we woke up (which could have been ten minutes or two hours later, I have no idea) they had moved into trees and we moved in on their location. We worked down a spine, timber on one side and sagebrush on the other, always cow calling with the bull bugling back to us. I was about five steps behind my guide when he motioned to me and I moved to the ridge. The herd bull was downhill in the sage, hustling his cows out of there and toward a nasty creek bottom. I put my rifle over a dead limb and found him in the scope. He dropped instantly at the shot. I am not one to just stand there admiring previously shot stuff while it runs away and down into tangles, so I shot him again. Oddly, at that, he then tried to get up on his front feet and I hit him a third time and he moved no more. 135 yards away. 450 total grains of Nosler Partition were more than enough, coming from a .270 heretofore questioning its sexuality. Actually, any 150 of them would have proved plenty, driven at 3025 or so by RL26. The inside of his chest was a mess. I found one of the bullet heels under the hide on the offside, nothing left of the front end of it but it had punched all the way through. The off shoulder was a splintered mess also and very little of this was usable. No Elk Osso Bucco this year.
It was about 330 in the afternoon. I stayed and guarded the critter while my much more nimble nephew and our guide got the horses. We had the elk boned and on the mule by 630. We were back at the main trail by 730 (we left meat and skull there, up in a tree, no sense in humping that weight over the same ground,) and rode into camp at 930. The ride into camp was euphoric to say the least. We rode of course in the dark, except that it wasn't. The moon was almost full, we were casting shadows in the meadow and looking at the stars from close up. It was beyond fantastic. We thought of taking pictures and decided there was no way to take any kind of picture which could capture that moment. Not even close. Glad to find our friend in camp and get the wolf story from him, it was a late night around a stove and a bottle of Crown Royal (from Canada and not the stuff you can get in any store in the states. If you have a chance, get a bottle north of the border. You can thank me by private message.) The very best kind of 16 hour day.
On Wednesday, the camp jack packed us down and we were on the road by 130. Stopped in Dubois, circled through Grand Teton and Yellowstone and stayed in Cody. We were fortunate to see a huge grizzly between Yellowstone Lake and the east entrance. About 500 yards away, he was digging up a creek bed. No idea why, and we didn't walk down there to ask. It was fun to watch and a real cap to the trip. Made it home on Thursday after stops at King Saddlery in Sheridan, Western Buffalo in Rapid City, and Wall Drug for donuts.
Lessons:
Go on a horse packing trip sometime if you can. I expected to meet the ghosts of O'Connor and Keith somewhere on the trail. It was great adventure.
.270 Win = plenty good caliber despite its inherent sexual confusion
Stay downwind. Being downwind was our friend on this deal. I can't stress enough playing the wind on elk and this is a lot of why this deal worked out. The wind was always in our face.
No steak place is open in Cody, Wy after 9pm. However the Silver Saddle Bar is open and the popcorn is excellent.
Buy a wolf tag.
Last edited by BKinSD; 10/16/17. Reason: It needed some clean up
