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Continued...

The next morning we were at our faithful glassing point and quickly located the herd again. They had moved just one ridge to the south and had split into two herds. We watched them for awhile and developed a plan to get on top of a more isolated group of elk that would give us a better chance at not being seen. While waiting for them to bed we killed the time watching the same coyote pair from the previous morning.

Once the elk were tucked in we made our way down the lane and ran into a truck with a spotting scope out. We stopped and chatted, we asked if they had seen any elk and they told us they had not. We told them where we had seen the elk and offered to get their scope on the herd. When we looked through the scope they were already on the herd and they sheepishly admitted that they were watching the elk as well and were devising a plan to get on them. We told them the plan we had devised and encouraged them to go give it a try because I had a chance at the herd the night before. Besides, it is pheasant season and we finally had a nice morning and afternoon to find some birds.

We parted ways and headed back to the ranch and called up our good friend with some of the best bird dogs I have seen. His three German Shorthair Pointers make quite a show as they work together to get us on the birds. During the walk, two of the dogs were pointing a bird and the other one circled around and flushed it up right to us. Our friend laughingly said that he taught them to do that. I wouldn't be surprised if he was serious.



Once we missed more birds than we hit, we decided to head back to the glassing point just to see where the elk went after the other hunters pushed them. The sun was about to set on our last day and it was supposed to be just a relaxing sit. That idea changed quickly when I found the elk about where I had missed them the first time. I was already out of the truck when my dad said he would stay behind and glass from the truck to not slow me down.

I got about halfway to the hill when I looked to the north I could start to see some elk making their way into the field. I knew I wanted to be closer than 200 yards after my miss, so I backed down and around and got the wind in my face and slowly made my way up the edge of the field until I could see the elk again. I then army crawled through the snow until I was 200 yards away from the herd.



I was out of cover and they were starting to appear one by one into the field right to left. Cows were followed by more cows as they funneled into my view until there was around a dozen of them in the field. Flat on my belly in no cover I looked over the herd, determining which elk to shoot. I decided on the cow I wanted and cocked my hammer. Some of the cows started to sense my presence and I knew my cover was blown. I centered my peep to the globe and could now easily pick my spot with the green pin. I put it behind her shoulder and slowly squeezed.

BOOM! CRACK! The shot broke and I was once again entrapped in smoke. As it cleared I saw the group of cows run over the rise and out of sight. Man that sounded good but none of the cows seemed hit, I thought to myself. I called my dad who had a front row (heated) seat in the truck. He answered the phone saying," that's a hit, reload", an inside joke from my nephews AK bear hunt earlier in the year (you can find it in GTC22 posts). Per my dads report, once the herd went over the rise and just before they left the field, the rear cows legs gave out and she tipped over. Though I never saw them, the herd had a couple good bulls that hadn't quite fed out into my view before I shot. Though disappointed I didn't get the bull I was after, the cow will eat better anyways!

The 460 grain No Excuse bullet hammered her three inches behind the shoulder and a little higher than I had held with my peep dialed to 200 yards. She ended up at 180 yards when I shot. It destroyed both lungs and exited further back as she was quartering to me. It made quick work of her and she was dead 60 yards from where she was shot.

I got up to her and was taken aback by her size. I've killed a handful of elk in the past, but I'm always surprised at how big they are. I called the landowner and thanked him for allowing me to hunt his property. I asked if it would be alright if we drove the side by side along the edge of the frozen field to the elk and he gave us the green light. We drug her to the road and strenuously got her into the bed of the truck.





The next morning we got all loaded up and headed back to home base. A good buddy of mine offered to let us hang her at his place. We got her skinned that night and cut up the next day. That evening we cut roasts and made burger that will feed our family for a good while.





Thanks for following along!