Soon we see movement in the trees.
The cow's head is up and Kenna does what she needs to do with a single shot to the neck.
It is a big old cow and I was glad we didn't have a rodeo getting her down. The first shot was too far back but all is well that ends well and we lost very little meat.
After she is tagged we start the butchering process and my son gets in on the finer details of the gutless method.
Kenna is a midget and just barely taller then the backstrap.
We planned to take out the hinds and backstraps and come back the next day for the fronts. I split meat between three packs and had Kenna put extra clothes and food in her pack. We started hiking and I ask everyone if they think they can handle a few more pounds. The general consensus is yes so we go back and completely debone the fronts and split it up. If we can get it out in one shot that will make the next day, Thanksgiving, a whole lot nicer. Everyone is all smiles loaded up and ready for the two mile pack out.
We fight some deadfall then hit a logging road before doing battle with a steep-arse creek bottom (sucks bad going down, sucks worse going up).
After a few breathers we make it to the truck early enough for a quick drive to the nearest little town for celebratory junk food for the ride home.
We get home about 9 pm and weigh packs. Mine is right at 90, Cartsten's 60 and Bailey's is 40. I was about to explain to Carsten that the extra 30 pounds I had explains why he beat me out of the creek bottom until he quickly pointed out that with his rifle he was packing way over 50% of his body weight. I shut up and went looking for a cookie and a shower. It was great having kids big enough to pack some real pounds off the mountain and I was not upset at all about sleeping in the next morning knowing I didn't have to make another meat run up the hill.
I realize later that night that Kenna has elk hunted exactly 1/2 day and has killed her first elk. I hope she isn't ruined