Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game Hubris and bulls

This was supposed to be THE year for me. I’ve been on a pretty good run of late. I’ve only failed to punch my elk tag once in the last 7 years and that was mostly by choice. More importantly to me, I’ve been able to help my son and a couple of close friends cut their tags as well. This year was going to be epic. I took a full three weeks of work off. My best bud and hunting partner Matt did the same. For the first time ever I purchased a leftover, NR elk tag. All the necessary components were in place to wreak havoc on the elk population of central Idaho. The general deer season started October 10th, and elk opener followed on the 15th.

By the 12th, I’d sent a text to my wife telling her my hunt was over because I was in so much pain from a knee injury. Two days into a planned three-week hunt and I was sitting in a hotel in central Idaho drinking Pendleton feeling quite sorry for myself. I injured it last fall and was scheduled for a knee replacement this spring, but Covid hit and my surgery was cancelled as a result. I have been getting steroid shots along the way to keep me afloat, and foolishly believed I could “tough” my way through the season with little impact. Two days into the hunt and I suddenly realized how preposterous that belief had been.

During my pity-party at the motel, my wife called and remined me our son was planning on coming down from the University of Idaho the following weekend to join me. She was coldly indifferent to my seemingly lost season, but made it clear she did NOT want her baby boy to be without adequate food/shelter for the upcoming weekend. I was ready to break camp and head home, but I reluctantly agreed to head back to camp and lay around through the weekend so that Rowdy and his roommate (Caden) had a base of operations for the two days they had managed to carve out from school to hunt.

I started eating Ibuprofin like candy, and a by the time the boys arrived a couple of days later I could hobble around camp a bit. They headed up into some high-country past camp for the opener, and came SO close to getting a shot at a raghorn below them at one point. As these things sometimes happen though, the wind swirled at the last second and the bulls and their dreams of their first “solo” elk faded as they stampeded down the mountain with nary a shot fired.

The boys came out midday, and since I could still ride the dirtbike a bit, Rowdy and I decided to hit another trail a few miles away for the evening hunt. We didn’t see a damn thing that evening, but for the first time in several days I truly enjoyed myself for just a bit as Rowdy and I glassed some beautiful country together and shared some laughs in the process. Here he is overlooking some big country as we hobble back to my planned glassing spot. I should probably note here the look of disgust on my son’s face is because he strongly believed I should stay in camp and not make my knee any worse. He was mad at me for the better part of two weeks, but I know it came from a place of love so I’m giving him a mulligan for being so pissy with me about it.



And here we are looking over some country together.





The following morning the boys headed back into the high-country in hopes of crossing paths with the herd from the day before. My knee was feeling a bit “looser” at that point, so I decided to go for a small hike out of camp just because I was so tired of sitting around and I don’t like to hunt from the bike if I can avoid it. My view was extremely limited as daylight broke and I was stunned to see the outline of an elk on a not-too-distant ridge through my binoculars. I couldn't be sure, but I thoght I saw spikes during my brief glimpse. More importantly, I thought I might actually be able to get on it if it didn't wander away too quickly! I'd long ago decided I'd shoot the first legal bull I could find with tag #1, and then try and find something a little better for tag #2. I tucked away the glass and started my awkward hobble with my hiking sticks and my one good leg. A half-mile later I was sweating up a storm when I arrived at the rock I thought I would have view from.

I assumed the elk was within 200 yards of me, but couldn’t see it through the thick brush below me. I waited a good 15 minutes and never caught a glimpse of anything. I decided to start working my way through the thick brush in hopes of forcing the issue. Forty yards in I hear a branch snap above me and I froze in my tracks. It was subtle, but I could hear the unmistakable noises of a large animal working away, and slightly above me. The direction the sound was traveling would soon be more open country, and I flipped off the safety and shouldered the rifle in anticipation. Like a giant, yellow ghost an elk suddenly materialized from the brush. It was about 150 out, and I could see a very small set of spikes staring back at me through the scope. He turned his head to leave and I sent a 150 Ballistic Tip on the way from my .280. The first shot rocked him and he initially swayed in place, but turned as-if to head down a VERY steep hill so I sent an insurance round that finished the task.
He was literally the smallest bull I’d killed in 32 years of chasing elk, but I felt immense pride at having persevered through the pain and having tagged a general unit bull…albeit a pretty diminutive representation of the species.

Luckily, a downed Ponderosa arrested his fall after the second shot.



The boys were about 1,500 vertical feet above me, but had heard the shot and we were able to connect with each other via satellite texting. I went to work with the knife and had the little spike quartered by the time they reached me. I was extremely happy to have those young bucks join me for the pack out. Those boys are about 450 pounds of youth between them and both are pretty tough hombres. Caden and I each took a hind quarter, and Rowdy took two fronts, the backstraps, and some loose cuts of meat. It was weird to have someone other than myself take the “heavy” load for the first time in my life. My pride was wounded that it wasn’t me honestly, but the consolation was that it was my own son. He’s officially all grown up now, and the kid is a mule when it comes to packing. Not only did the load not seem to bother him, he spent half the pack holding onto the back of my pack trying to help keep me from falling. It was mostly downhill and I was more than a little grateful for that. Here are Rowdy and Caden as we set off on our way.





To be continued.....

Nice work. Go Vandals!!!

As always - fantastic post and pictures. Sorry to hear about your knee but looks like you made the best of it and got your elk! Can't wait for the rest!!

Dave, thanks for the write up, it's always an enjoyable read. And I'd be proud of Rowdy as well!

Great write up brother Dave. Sucks about the knee, gettin old sucks, I’m starting to feel all my years of wrestling and being dumb. 🤣🤣

Congrats. Great story . That is tough country even for good knees.



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Well done, from a fellow Vandal! Looking forward to the rest of your story.

That spike will be great eating.

And yes, this year my college age son out hiked me, out packed me, and took an extra-extra load of elk out on his pack to make a light load for his old man........

Sheesh.

Congrats on the elk. Well earned brother. Idaho doesn’t give up its elk easily and especially on a beat up knee!

Persistence landed a bull. Nicely done to the group.

As always another great story Dave, as per usual you find a way of getting it done.
Congrats and thanks for the write up!

Congrats Dave! Way to grind it out. Can’t wait for the rest of the story.

Persistence pays again.....well done......congrats.

What years? I be a Vandal too.
I sure miss being at that school.

Good deal. There's not a damn thing wrong with a spike.
This is the first year since 2007 I have not hunted elk. I took a transfer to a new state and am sitting with my thumb up my ass all season...though I do have a my normal mule deer hunt behind my mom's place in Montana.

Great!!

Awesome job Dave! Lookin forward to “the rest of the story”!

Hubris and bulls.... I was wondering what the title would be. Fitting. Love ya buddy and like I said...I got your back. Oh...and "I told you so"

Awesome story and write up. Hope your knee gets to feeling better soon. If you're getting it replace, you might as well get every mile out of it you can.

Way to stick with it.

Todd

good write up .bet you are glad to have the young bucks help