First elk I ever killed, dad told my brother and I "What ever you do, don't go down in the hole below camp. Stay high." We left camp in the dark and went just far enough dad couldn't see us, then down we went. He had only congratulations when I shot a spike... until we wrestled that elk waaaay up a steep hill to camp. He made it clear DON'T DO THAT AGAIN! But by then we didn't want to shoot anything below us anyway. The next one we got was miles further away, but at least it was up, way up, a steep mountain. Easiest one, and also the biggest, I shot off my deck in my underwear... but that is a story for another thread.
