A 12 Year Old's First Elk - 12/01/21
My daughter Kenna turned 12 this year and was eligible to start hunting elk. A buddy and I had been hunting an area all season and had regularly been running into cows and spikes. It was a brow-tine bull area so we couldn't do much with them but 12-15 year olds are able to take cows. We finally got a day when everyone was off school, out of work, there were no middle school basketball games and the weather wasn't brutal (we havent had much snow or cold but have had some hellacious winds this season).
The idea was to head out for an afternoon hunt and look for a couple groups of elk my buddy and I had seen the day before. If we found brow tine bulls the older kids could shoot, if we only found cows Kenna would be the shooter. We loaded in the truck around 11:15 and headed toward the mountains. We got to the parking area around 12:30 and made the hike into the hunting area between 1 and 2.
It isn't terribly far but the terrain is steep and it is impossible to keep from working up a sweat, especially if you are over 40 and like tater tots fried in bacon grease. We always pack some dry clothes and budget time for a change-out before we start the evening glassing session.
We got to a protected spot in some trees to change-out and I remembered how painfully slow kids can be when changing multiple layers. I had already been through this drill a half dozen times or more this season and was dry and toasty before the rest of the crew was out of their first couple layers. Rather then sit around getting edgy while the worlds slowest pit crew did their thing I went to glass an area we had seen three cows the night before. It was only about a 120 yard walk to where I could see the spot so I told them to finish up and I would be back in a few minutes.
I made it to the glassing spot and immediately found an elk. Then another. Then another. All cows. Good enough.
I work back into the timber and back to the kids. They are about 90% dressed and I am about 120% ready to go.
"Hey Kenna. Wanna kill an elk?"
"Sure" she says with almost no emotion.
She promises she likes to hunt but is pretty much stone cold when we are in the field. It makes it hard to tell what she is thinking. She has pulled the trigger on multiple deer and an antelope and doesn't seem to have a problem with killing but she just doesn't' get wound up. I think we will start calling her Dexter.
They finally get all boots tied, coats zipped, hats situated and backpacks on and we head toward the elk. The only problem we have is that the elk are on a different hillside then we are on and if you try to get too close you get timbered out and can't see them. I was within 450 when I first spotted them and was hoping we could move close enough down the ridge and down the slope to get close to the magic 300 mark where I know the 140 accubond from her 7mm-08 should perform well.
I get within a little over 300 from where I had last seen an elk and start glassing. Nothing. I move a little and keep looking. Nothing. I expose myself on the ridge a bit more and "Bam", cow. 330 yards away and burning a hole in me with her eyes. All I can see is her neck and her head. She isn't spooked but isn't impressed either.
We slowly sit down and slide in front of a small group of trees. She keeps staring. She looks like she is upset with the situation and wants to speak to a manager.
We name her Karen.
We keep glassing.
We find another elk. Then another. Then another. Within a few minutes we probably have half a dozen elk or elk parts found scattered throughout a patch of timber. I want to move back to the timber and peal off another 30-50 yards but can't. I keep glassing. The kids get bored and cold.
Kenna is starting to get cold enough that I know something needs to happen. I tell Carsten to slowly slip back into the trees and see if he can make it into the timber. He starts, she moves, I hiss at him to stop, he doesn't, she keeps moving and then puts her head down to graze. Interesting.
I start thinking maybe we can all make it to the timber when Karen's twin sister steps out and also gives us the stink eye. Karen is now fully broadside and feeding across the hill.
She is not much over 310 and I think there may be a shot so I set up the bog and have Kenna lay down.
I have spent a fair amount of the past decade guiding my kids to game. I can say without hesitation that the seven worst words in the english language are "I can't find her in the scope". We go back and forth with pointing fingers and landmarks that make sense to me but no sense to a 12 year old. I stay calm but realize we are on borrowed time.
I find the cow in the scope, hold the rifle steady and then tell her to look through the scope without moving the rifle. She finds her. Bazinga.
The cow moves. No shot.
A calf moves into Karen's position and stands/stares. We repeat the process of finding her in the scope.
The calf moves. No shot.
Karen's sister moves into the same position and poses broadside. Kenna finds her but then let's me know she can't feel her fingers. My daughter Bailey and I both take a hand and cup it in our own and start blowing hot air to warm them up. She says she feels good. I can't believe we are getting away with this while we have fully exposed elk on a hillside within range.
I give her a quick reminder about where to hold and which hash mark on the reticle to use. She says she is solid.
Boom!
At the shot the mountain comes alive with elk. Way more elk then we originally thought. Karen's sister heads downhill and we mark the location she was standing when Kenna pulled the trigger. There is some fresh snow so we are optimistic we can figure things out whether she hit or not. We keep watching the trees to find a brow tine bull but of the 15-20 head in the herd the only horns belong to a couple of spikes.
We make it over to the marked spot and Carsten immediately finds a speck of blood. We follow it and find another speck. 50 yards down the mountain the blood gets bigger and we start finding hair and then bits of tissue. At one point it looked like she stumbled and smeared blood all over some small brush. Near the bottom the blood gets heavier.
The idea was to head out for an afternoon hunt and look for a couple groups of elk my buddy and I had seen the day before. If we found brow tine bulls the older kids could shoot, if we only found cows Kenna would be the shooter. We loaded in the truck around 11:15 and headed toward the mountains. We got to the parking area around 12:30 and made the hike into the hunting area between 1 and 2.
It isn't terribly far but the terrain is steep and it is impossible to keep from working up a sweat, especially if you are over 40 and like tater tots fried in bacon grease. We always pack some dry clothes and budget time for a change-out before we start the evening glassing session.
We got to a protected spot in some trees to change-out and I remembered how painfully slow kids can be when changing multiple layers. I had already been through this drill a half dozen times or more this season and was dry and toasty before the rest of the crew was out of their first couple layers. Rather then sit around getting edgy while the worlds slowest pit crew did their thing I went to glass an area we had seen three cows the night before. It was only about a 120 yard walk to where I could see the spot so I told them to finish up and I would be back in a few minutes.
I made it to the glassing spot and immediately found an elk. Then another. Then another. All cows. Good enough.
I work back into the timber and back to the kids. They are about 90% dressed and I am about 120% ready to go.
"Hey Kenna. Wanna kill an elk?"
"Sure" she says with almost no emotion.
She promises she likes to hunt but is pretty much stone cold when we are in the field. It makes it hard to tell what she is thinking. She has pulled the trigger on multiple deer and an antelope and doesn't seem to have a problem with killing but she just doesn't' get wound up. I think we will start calling her Dexter.
They finally get all boots tied, coats zipped, hats situated and backpacks on and we head toward the elk. The only problem we have is that the elk are on a different hillside then we are on and if you try to get too close you get timbered out and can't see them. I was within 450 when I first spotted them and was hoping we could move close enough down the ridge and down the slope to get close to the magic 300 mark where I know the 140 accubond from her 7mm-08 should perform well.
I get within a little over 300 from where I had last seen an elk and start glassing. Nothing. I move a little and keep looking. Nothing. I expose myself on the ridge a bit more and "Bam", cow. 330 yards away and burning a hole in me with her eyes. All I can see is her neck and her head. She isn't spooked but isn't impressed either.
We slowly sit down and slide in front of a small group of trees. She keeps staring. She looks like she is upset with the situation and wants to speak to a manager.
We name her Karen.
We keep glassing.
We find another elk. Then another. Then another. Within a few minutes we probably have half a dozen elk or elk parts found scattered throughout a patch of timber. I want to move back to the timber and peal off another 30-50 yards but can't. I keep glassing. The kids get bored and cold.
Kenna is starting to get cold enough that I know something needs to happen. I tell Carsten to slowly slip back into the trees and see if he can make it into the timber. He starts, she moves, I hiss at him to stop, he doesn't, she keeps moving and then puts her head down to graze. Interesting.
I start thinking maybe we can all make it to the timber when Karen's twin sister steps out and also gives us the stink eye. Karen is now fully broadside and feeding across the hill.
She is not much over 310 and I think there may be a shot so I set up the bog and have Kenna lay down.
I have spent a fair amount of the past decade guiding my kids to game. I can say without hesitation that the seven worst words in the english language are "I can't find her in the scope". We go back and forth with pointing fingers and landmarks that make sense to me but no sense to a 12 year old. I stay calm but realize we are on borrowed time.
I find the cow in the scope, hold the rifle steady and then tell her to look through the scope without moving the rifle. She finds her. Bazinga.
The cow moves. No shot.
A calf moves into Karen's position and stands/stares. We repeat the process of finding her in the scope.
The calf moves. No shot.
Karen's sister moves into the same position and poses broadside. Kenna finds her but then let's me know she can't feel her fingers. My daughter Bailey and I both take a hand and cup it in our own and start blowing hot air to warm them up. She says she feels good. I can't believe we are getting away with this while we have fully exposed elk on a hillside within range.
I give her a quick reminder about where to hold and which hash mark on the reticle to use. She says she is solid.
Boom!
At the shot the mountain comes alive with elk. Way more elk then we originally thought. Karen's sister heads downhill and we mark the location she was standing when Kenna pulled the trigger. There is some fresh snow so we are optimistic we can figure things out whether she hit or not. We keep watching the trees to find a brow tine bull but of the 15-20 head in the herd the only horns belong to a couple of spikes.
We make it over to the marked spot and Carsten immediately finds a speck of blood. We follow it and find another speck. 50 yards down the mountain the blood gets bigger and we start finding hair and then bits of tissue. At one point it looked like she stumbled and smeared blood all over some small brush. Near the bottom the blood gets heavier.