Thanks Travis, it was a chore for sure. The new barrel/scope workled perfectly!

My hunting companion, Jeff, arrived in Worland on Sunday the 13th and I went down to collect him and show him the way to camp. By that time, a shower at the Cenex Truck stop was welcomed!

Opening day arrived on Tuesday....only to find temperatures at 9 degrees and by the time I'd crossed a raging creek and climbed to my glassing spot the mountain Fog had rolled in! Couldn't see more than 50 to 100 yards. No Elk anywhere so began the long struggle to find them again.

After the 6th day I spotted some Elk on another ridgetop 5.3 miles from camp. I let them feed into timber and made plans to intercept them whenthey came out to feed at dark. It took me close to 4 hours to get there and hike the mountain the get into psotion by 1400 hrs. I rested in the warm sun until I heard voices....there on the very slope I expected my Elk to feed out on, were three riders on horseback, leading two pack horses. They had apparently killed an Elk earlier in the week and had chosen that moment to come back and pack out the meat. They finally were finished and were headed out at about 1630 and as I turned around to slide behind the big rock I had chosen as a shooting platform, I noticed a herd of Elk about 600 yards down the ridge headed straight for me and looking at me with curious stares. I slowly slid behind some sagebrush, low crawled over some more to get behind a rock about 2' high. Tried to get up behind the rifle and just could not get a good shot picture through the Nightforce scope without exposing myself more to the 50 pair of eyes intently watching my location. I could see there was a herd bull with the group. Not quite as big as I had wanted for what might possibly be my last Elk, but he was a decent 5x5 bull.

I realized that my only option was to let them turn around and feed on down the ridge. They didn't spook, but they were not sure what they had seen either so they fed away downhill from me. After they left, I gathered my pack, binos, rifle, hiking staffs and dropped off the ridge on the back side and stalked them about a quarter mile until I figured they had to be opposite me on the other side of the ridge. I slowly crept up to the ridge crest at a painstaking crawl, finally spotting them at the same time they saw me. Sliding up behind a rock, I put my hat on top for a rest, and leaned around the side with the Swarovski laserguide to range them. The readout flashed 450, 455, 460, and I quickly dialed up some elevation on the scope for the yardage presented. I took a deep breath, chambered a round, and slid up over the rock. With my presence now known, the herd started moving off quickly and a last check with the rangefinder revealed the Bull was now at 474 yards and quartering away. Not wasting another moment, I slid the crosshair behind the near shoulder and a little back, squeezed the trigger when the crosshairs were as still as I could make them and the gun boomed it's reply.

Pulling the .300 Win Mag down out of recoil, I frantically searched through the scope for the bull as the herd fled downslope. The bull was at the rear trying to follow, but took a few steps, stopped and turned broadside. I readied another round and was starting my trigger squeeze when he stumbled backwards and piled up.

After all the work, the practice at the range, rifle build, load workup, and money spent on quality optics, it all worked just like it should. One shot at 474 yards with a Berger 185 Hunting VLD through the Douglas premium barrel, guided by a Nightforce 3.5-15 scope all culminated with a magical moment..........









At this moment, as I warily edged up on this magnificent Mountain creature, I was in awe of his beauty, his coloration and his...........SIZE! How was I going to move this thing to dress it out?

It was dark before I had the tenderloins, head and rack loaded on my pack. The new Horn Hunters pack worked fabulous on this trip, glad I bought it! It was several hours after dark by the time I made it back to camp where my buddy was anxious as I had not returned when he expected me to. I had contacted him by radio when I hit the canyon bottom and the ATV.

While anti-climatic, the next day proved brutal to my old ass as I hiked back up and spent the day boning out the bull and then headed down with nearly 90 pounds of meat on my back and the rest in a game bag I dragged downhill behind me. The Berger performed as expected, I found what was left of it in the offside should. The lungs were non-existent, and just jellied.

Getting off the mountain this time proved more difficult as it had been snowing all day on me. The moisture made footing treacherous and the heavy load I packed kept trying to throw me off balance. I lost footing one time and ended up face down, feet first, sliding uncontrollably down the slope, unable to stop my desent. Finally after 50' or so I got a toe dug into the mud and grabbed a sagebrush root to bring myself to a stop. Spitting the mud out of my mouth and cleaning my revolver that had been in a chest rig holster, I made a note to myself not to do that again.....

I heard this loud, raucus, raspy, strangled sound and looked to see if the ever present ravens were following me only to realize it was the sound of my antiquated, flatlander, lungs sucking in the thin Mountain air in protest of my activities.

By the time I rolled into camp near dark, my buddy had dinner ready and helped me get the meat off the Yamaha Grizzly and into the freezer I had brought.

Though it was difficult to move the next day, we hunted Mule deer for Jeff on our way down to town where a hot shower helped breathe new life into my body and I called friends and family with my good news of success.

By the way, if ever in Worland, WY, stop and have lunch at Maggies Diner on the main drag there. A huge double bacon cheeseburger will set you back $6.75 and it comes with a mountain of fresh-cut french fries, plus they would toss us a free dessert cup each time we ate there......the place is always full of locals and I can see why!

Two days later, Jeff finally connected on a small buck to fill his General deer tag. He made a bad first shot and the ensuing chase is another story, for another time.




Last edited by frogman43; 11/01/13.
~Molɔ̀ːn Labé Skýla~