So there I was, walking a ridge top in colorado, chasing the elusive wapiti when my rifle slang catches on something sticking up out of the ground.
Thinking it was merely some scrub oak, I brush my hand down to clear my sling and come into contact with something solid. Very solid. And pointy.
At that point, I look down to see what I had, and exclaim "Holy f***" where upon my Dad turns around, excitement mixed with concern, "what, what?" thinking maybe I'd seen something. Seen something I had.
My theory is that someone had shot him the year before, and he laid up on the ridge to heal up but didn't quite make it. The skull was in a perfect upright position, and he was hunkered down in a slight hollow invisible from below, and one hell of a nasty climb to get up to him.
Not having the proper tape or anything, the best I have is rough guesstimathing, but he goes 180-200 easy.
I sent him down the mountain with my Dad to await me until christmas when I can clean up the skull and mount him to a plaque.
Not the antlers I was looking for when I set out that morning, but a memorable find none the less.