This past November marked the 67th year that the men in my family made the annual trek to the mountains of Colorado for hunting season. It has been and continues to be an amazing adventure every single year though sadly I believe it may be winding down.

The plan started off in grand fashion, we bought groceries and made arrangements for a camp 14 strong. As the excitement built as it always does as we ready our gear we had our first letdown when Grandad, the founder of our camp and the last surviving original member caught a chest cold and decided he’d best stay home. Soon after one of my uncles decided he wasn’t going to make it as his daughter is expecting his first grandchild any time now and he wanted to stick close by to keep an eye on Grandad too. The next day a close family friend who I consider an uncle by association had to bow out due to farming duties that couldn’t wait. Then the calls from our cousins in NM who come up to meet us started with different maladies for them causing their attendance to be cut by half.

So the five of us decided we’d soldier on and do the best we could and we headed out the Wednesday before the start of CO’s 3rd rifle to go to camp. We left as soon as I got off work and drove until midnight before we decided to hang it up and turn in. Got a cheap motel room and discovered we had a trailer tire going flat so rather than get up early and deal with it we swapped the spare on at 12:30 in the parking lot. Of course in the morning we found out we’d somehow ruined a wheel even though the tire was fine. With no replacement available we had to go for broke and hope for the best, by some miracle we made it the second half of our trip on a junk spare that we couldn’t find a replacement for at any stop along the way.

Fooling around looking for a tire and or wheel in several towns had cost us valuable time so rather than making our usual stop in town for tags and last minute groceries before heading up to camp we decided to head on up and come back to town the next day.

As we left town we got a call from a NM cousin who was up at camp with more bad news. Someone had parked a Gooseneck full of gear right in the center of our usual camping spot claiming it for themselves. They were looking but hadn’t found a suitable spot for our big camp.

We continued on hoping to find a workable spot and get set up before dark. As we pulled off the pavement and onto our forest service road we were happy to find 4” of fresh snow from the night before and dad quickly slid his pickup into 4HI, just in case. Unfortunately my uncle following us didn’t do the same and at the first set of switchbacks he spun out and slid backward into the ditch and 4wd wasn’t any help by then. Not being able to be of any help pulling a 20’ deckover we just waved and continued on up the mountain to try and find our cousins.

We quickly found camp and powwowed with the New Mexicans about the stuck rig back down the way. One of them had a set of heavy chains for his truck and they chained her up and went and made the recovery while dad and I started unloading our stuff to get going on building camp.

After all the drama it was getting late and we had all hands on deck getting the tent up, bunks built, lights and stove plumbed, tables and counters assembled, and then supper cooked. Luckily we’ve all done this enough that it went up pretty smoothly with everyone doing their job that they’ve been assigned or adopted over the years. Pretty soon we were eating a bowl of homemade pozole and enjoying a cold beer as the wood burner crackled and the gas lights hissed. Home again.

Friday morning we cut and stacked wood, built a world class shiet palace out back, and finished any little loose ends we’d forgotten in the hustle the day before. A quick trip to town got us licensed up and the last of the groceries bought and put away. After supper we shook dominoes, caught up on current family events, and made plans for who would hunt where in the morning.

The opener found us up at 5:00 making coffee, bacon, 2 fried eggs apiece, and biscuits. Lunches packed and plans made we headed out with high hopes to our old familiar spots, a pair to the Big Green ridge, an uncle on the stump overlooking Three Cow Saddle, two boys up on Spike Camp ridge, a deer hunting cousin headed for The Burn, and Dad and I peeled out for Hubcap Junction where we’d park and make the two mile hike to the top of the Horsetrail ridge.

It took us 45 minutes or so to make the climb to the top of the old horsetrail. We eased up to peek off into a bowl that often has elk in it at first and last light only to find nothing. After a while we decided to go around the edge and look over in my favorite hellhole, affectionately known as The Okie Pocket. It was named this by the old man who cut the horse trail years back because it’s a steep and miserable canyon full of brush and twisted gnarled pinions and according to him us Okies were the only ones stupid enough to kill an elk in there and pack it out on our backs, my biggest bull came from the darkest steepest corner of this canyon years ago.
On our way in there we suddenly found ourselves in the middle of a herd of elk not completely wildly blowing out of the country but definitely nervous and headed somewhere else. We could occasionally see flashes of color and a cow or calf through an opening but no bulls and no opportunities to shoot if there had been. It was an exciting few minutes being back in the mountains and in the elk 2 hours into opening day.

We went ahead and looked around in the place we were headed, sitting and watching a trail for a couple hours with nothing but a few deer passing through. So we shouldered our packs and headed up the ridge toward the big bowl at the top.

We stopped on the edge of the bowl under a tree where my uncle once sat all day under a GI poncho in a snowstorm with a can of Sterno burning to keep him warm until a big old 6x7 bull circled the bowl and met his demise with a well placed Nosler from an old 270. We glasses the bowl and decided to eat lunch. Dad broke out a 1994 dated MRE he’d been saving for some reason or another and I had a dry lunch of crackers, smoked cheese, and leftover fried walleye chunks from the fish fry the night before. After carefully reading and following the instructions on the MRE dad found out the heater had gone bad and he had no way to heat his beef stew pouch. Bummer. At least he thought the heater had gone bad but an hour later he must have jostled it just right because as we packed up he put it in his backpack and it almost immediately went to sizzling and boiling!

After lunch and glassing the bowl for a while we decided it was time to move and I said I would head up to the very top before falling off the back side onto a hidden shelf that has been known to hold a bull or two to still hunt my way back around to the place he planned to sit. We parted ways and I made the climb. Just as I reached the saddle at the top I heard hoofbeats headed my way. I quickly squatted down by a pine as three big cows came into view. They slowed to a walk and eventually stopped about 30 yards from me. I watched them for 10 minutes hoping a bull was behind but they were alone. After a time they decided to head out and eased over into the big bowl I’d just come from and I watched in awe as they effortlessly crossed the half mile wide bowl in less than 5 minutes and disappeared into the timber below.
Continuing my still hunt I found elk sign everywhere, definitely plenty of animals using the area and easy to keep your eyes and ears sharp knowing that there could be a bull over the next little rise or through the next opening in the timber. As I crept into an opening that afforded a view of the surrounding ridges I happened to scan back down the ridge 2 miles or so to the first bowl we’d checked in the morning and was suddenly looking at a herd of elk out feeding in the snow.

I quickened my pace and headed down the way we’d come to try and catch dad so we could maybe make it back before we lost the light to look them over. I caught him sitting on a rock waiting for me and explained what I’d found. We double timed it back down to the bowl at the far end and slowly snuck over the edge to check them out. They were all scattered on the mountainside and we checked them off as we went, 11 cows. Then all the sudden one steps out of the oak brush and I see antlers, not very big antlers but antlers nonetheless. Then the scrutinizing begins, does he have 4 on a side, are his brows 5” long, hard to tell with his head in the oak brush with those little sticks around his antlers looking just like his points. Finally after 20 minutes of watching he swings his head around to scratch his side and I can clearly count points against the yellow background of his hide, 4 on his right side for sure and I’m 99% his brows are long enough too. Rangefinder shows 411, rifle over the pack, safety off. I hold in line with his leg and put the horizontal wire on his back before sending a 130Etip across the bowl and hearing a satisfying WHAP as it lands. He staggers a little so I hold in the same place and light another one off, WHAP as it lands and he stumbles and stands still. Once more because this is the fun part I hold in the same place and send another. This time he folds up and slides a few yards down onto a little bench before coming to rest.

About then a guy starts hollering below us in the trees. We grab our stuff and walk down to meet a couple young guys about my age. They had been trying to get a shot at the bull for half an hour not knowing we were there and us not knowing they were below us. I felt bad especially when they said they’d had a bigger bull they were stalking killed out from under them that morning but they assured me that it was no big deal and not like I’d done it on purpose. We shook their hands and headed over to take a picture and get to work with the 30 minutes of sun we had left.

We got down to business had him skinned and quartered in 37 minutes. We didn’t have bags or frames so we laid everything out in the snow and beat feet for camp. I did recycle the plastic outer bag from the ill fated MRE to have something to put the tenderloins in and packed them out. We made the hike out under the stars and a moon bright enough we didn’t need a flashlight for much of the trip. At the trailhead a local father and son we’ve become friends with over the years offered their congratulations and the boys in camp had a cold beer, and following Grandad’s tradition for first meat in camp, a shot of HotDamn. They also had the stove cranking and supper hot and ready. This is what we come for and things were looking up!

To be continued…..

Awesome so far. Waiting with baited breath. I need to hunt elk one of these days.

Great story. Rickshaw its addicting.

Cool story. Well written.
Hope there are pics!

Great write up.The best elk hunting partner I ever had and I are about like your granddad. Neither of us will probably ever make it back up the mountain again, but appreciate the tales.

Very good!

I'd bet that you have many good stories from your years of elk hunting and packing. I'd love to hear them....

Bill

Great story, hurry up with pics!

The Kid,

What a great story! It really took me back.

I remember when I was the youngster going on mule deer and elk hunts here in Idaho with family and friends every fall. Our camps included tents and travel trailers over the years, and small routine things around camp-cooking, eating, campfires, good conversations and hunting stories, and good whiskey, are what I remember most. As the years went by, my Dad and his friends one by one dropped out due to health reasons, they are all gone now.

Only a few of us are left now. My son in law is a new attendant and in a few years I will add my oldest grandson. Trying to keep the tradition alive.

Your story was a nice read and I am looking forward to the rest, and hopefully some pictures. Thank you for sharing.

Regards,
Manny

Congrads and enjoying the write up! Only got to do one Elk hunt, killed a spike!

I promise the rest of the story and a round of pics are coming guys, as soon as I get time.

Great story so far! Can’t wait to read the rest!

there is some thing about a family or good friends hunting camp that is a life long love

Cont..
The next morning I rolled out and helped with breakfast before letting everyone leave and go up for the morning hunt. A good friend who’s no relation to us but we’ve agreed to adopt because he’s a great guy, a cousin my age, my oldest uncle, and my dad agreed to meet around lunchtime and we’d gang up and go on a retrieval mission. I eased back into my bunk for an hour or so after cleaning up breakfast and stoking the wood burner.

About 11:00 I got to the rendezvous point and radioed to see if everyone was ready. Sitting on my wheeler waiting for a reply and I catch a glimpse of something 40 yards off the trail I’m parked on. Sure enough it’s a herd of cows and calves bedded in the timber and totally unconcerned with my being there. Unfortunately the one guy in camp with a cow tag was a ways off and it would have been against the rules to tell him where they were on the radio anyway. Shaking my head I rolled on down to meet the guys.

We donned pack frames and slowly made the trek to my bull keeping eyes out for more elk and then carefully looking over the kill site from a distance since Dad had opted for a bear tag over a bull. Satisfied that nothing was around we closed the last bit of distance and started loading packs. Soon we were on our our way, one whole bull elk in one load. A little more than an hour and we had it all back to the wheelers, bagged, and strapped down for the ride back to the meat pole in camp.

Interestingly enough, when we reached the kill site I noticed that one quarter was moved about a foot and one backstrap was about 3 feet from where I’d left it. Closer inspection found a single set of fox tracks in the snow and the heart, which I’d set aside since I didn’t have a bag for it, had been absconded with! Rat bastard had a whole gutpile all to himself and he takes my favorite part.

The following days I spent mostly with Dad, looking for sheds, rocks, and a bear, but definitely soaking up the scenery and enjoying good company and being away from work. Saw elk every day, unbelievable when I’m used to hunting my ass off and seeing 3 or 4 the whole trip on a normal year. Also saw a few really nice bucks, of course always when the cousin with a buck tag was far away.

On one of our afternoon strolls I came to a dirt wash and saw an antler sticking up from behind a stump. Thinking I’d found a dandy shed I headed down to it only to see the other side with it. Deadhead, I thought. Well it turned out I was mostly right. Unfortunately I found a really nice buck someone had killed and lost during the second season. Coyotes had eaten his hindquarters and the hair had started to slip but the front half of him was completely intact. Due to the open area he was in and judging by the entry and exit holes whatever dumbass shot him couldn’t have possibly looked very hard for him. He had a hole perfectly centered between the base of the neck and the shoulder with an exit the size of a silver dollar right behind the shoulder on the opposite side. No way he made it far and what a waste of a dandy buck. I pulled a city slicker move and had my picture taken with him like I’d killed him and had a good laugh on the guys at work. 😁

As the week wore on the weather was great and everyone was still seeing game, just no shot opportunities. So I hatched a plan to do a two man elk drive with Dad through a bowl that we knew some were staying in. Three guys with bull tags and my uncle with the cow tag setup on saddles in the ridge where we know they cross and Dad and I started easing up the opposite side of the bowl with the intention of just letting them get our wind or see us and nudging them the right direction. We sidehilled to the top of the bowl and swung over to come back down the middle through the thick stuff we were sure they’d be in. And they were. After we split up a little I was bee bopping along down in the dark timber when I look ahead and see a cow about 50 yards from me and sound asleep. I glass and scan for 5 minutes and finally determine she’s alone. Still there’s a guy with a cow tag less than 500 yards straight north of her sitting overlooking a trail that cuts right through a heavily used saddle, this is going to work perfectly. I backed up a ways and swung around to get directly south of her where she’d get my wind and head north. Imagine my surprise when she gets my wind and stays lying down looking at me for several minutes only to finally get up and stroll right around me and go straight south! Best laid plans and everything.

In the end the stars just didn’t align for anyone else and I ended up with the only meat on the pole. But everyone in camp had a great hunt, ate like it was Thanksgiving everyday, heard some funny jokes and fun stories of trips past, and just generally had a great time.

Our wives can’t believe how well we eat. Our menu this year included fried Walleye, baked hams, baked turkeys, beans and cornbread, thick cut pork chops, fried chicken, homemade pozole, venison chili, stroganoff, and other real home cooked meals. Breakfast was always eggs cooked to order, bacon, sausage, or home cured Canadian bacon, and biscuits aside from two mornings, one where we had pancakes and another where I whipped up a breakfast casserole with leftover ham, potatoes, bacon, and cheese. A wonderful lady from NM always volunteers to bake us a huge box of the finest cookies and spiced breads I’ve ever had. In the end grocery costs were up 80 cents a meal from last year but still incredibly reasonable for as well as we eat. In 2021 it cost $5.30 per meal per man, this year we owed $6.11 a plate.

The fuel bill liked to have killed us when we divvied it up. We burned $103 worth of propane, $431 worth of gasoline, and an unbelievable $758 worth of diesel on the 1279 mile journey from OK to CO and back. Sorry Uncle but your shiny new Duramax getting 5mpg may not be our vehicle of choice next go around.

As I alluded too in the beginning, times they are changing. There’s rumors of tag prices increasing again soon and Dad’s generation that makes up 80 percent of our group are aging out. I grew up waiting year after year to get old enough to go and when I finally started I thought it would never end. I made dad promise to try his best to stay in shape with the hope that we can keep it up long enough for his grandsons to go. So until we get completely priced out of it or we just get too old we’re going to try our best to keep it up and keep the adventure going. We’re already making plans for next fall.

Under construction.
And complete.
Deluxe Outhouse being built.
A man with 40 years experience explaining what it takes to make a world class Shietter. I honestly have no idea why he was given the task but he’s been building the outhouse since 1979.
Home away from home.

Fries to go with the fish on Friday night.
Carefully follow MRE instructions to melt your backpack on the mountainside!
Typical meal of an evening.
Hams been ate so the whiskey and bullsheit comes out for desert.
Nightly domino world championship

A raghorn to put us on the board.
The 270Wby ETip combo is rough on em.
The pack string.
“My” big buck.

26deg at lunch required a small fire to warm up our bones and Uncle Woody’s Viennas.
Keeping a sharp eye out after lunch.

Hope you enjoyed the story a fraction as much as I enjoyed living it.

Awesome!

Very well done and I enjoyed it. Thanks for taking the time to post it all.

Nicely done.

Wow that's GREAT!

Great write up!

Great stuff kid!

Wow! Awesome write up! Congrats on the bull and week out in camp!

Great read, congrats .

Great write up Kid!

I very much dig and can appreciate a camp like that. Only been included in something like that a couple of times, but man was it fun.

Well done. Reminds me of our big camps in the mid 70's.Very few of us left alive now.Those old big military tents were sure heavy. I have 6-7 albums of older print type photos that I wish were digital now to relive some of those hunts.Thanks for stirring them up. Keep on keeping on.The years past all too quickly. I see a lot of gray hairs in those gents.They will soon be only a memory

Great write up and pics kid, thanks for taking us along.

I enjoyed your narrative and pictures, Looks like you boys set up the Waldorf Astoria in the Colorado Mountains.

Glad you had a great time and success.

L.W.

Priceless memories that will stay as long as y’all are earthbound. Thanks for taking the time to share it.

Excellent .. Great read. Many thanks.

Dang that was a cool read. Thanks for sharing!

Great read Kid! Always wanted to do a tent camp with a group like you guys do! At least you have a Kromer hat, to bring you Luck! Hell of a big set of mule deer antlers, hope they made the trip home. And Congrads on the bull! If you ever need another old guy pm me lol

Nice tale. I love stories about hunting in the mountains and pictures to top it off. 😊

Thank you again for sharing your trip with us. Great pictures too!

Regards,
Manny

Nice trip

My goodness. Nice work and you’re living HIGH CLASS.

I am usually hunkered underneath a tarp or in the front seat of the pickup when at ‘camp’ and shoving handfuls of trail mix in my mouth for ‘meals’ 3 times a day.

Color me impressed and a bit envious.

That was awesome ! Thank you for taking the time to take us along.

Besides having a nice place to sleep, eat, and play dominoes the inside setup for the tent is really pretty cool in its own right. My Grandad’s best friend was a hardware and appliance store owner for 60 years. They built the gas line setup for the lights and stove. He also sourced us an old gas range with live pilots so the burners don’t have to be lit with a match and it doesn’t need electricity for the igniters like a modern gas stove. Grandad always makes it a point to emphasize that “she’s the last of her kind boys and you have to be gentle with her or we’ll never be able to replace her”.

One year in the 70’s they tried electric lights and a generator. The noise and hassle of refueling and starting the generator caused an instant switch back to gas lights.

My master tinkerer, fabricator, mechanic, Mr Fixit uncle built the bunks back in the 80’s. They’re color coded for easy assembly and each has a piece of plywood cut to fit.

The kitchen “cabinets” are built to screw together and have a full set of pots, pans, utensils, and dishes sufficient for 12 guys to eat two meals before you have to wash them. That way the dishes don’t have to be done between breakfast and supper.

A few years ago we modified the rear vestibule to house a shower. We have to haul a little more water but a hot shower every third day sure beats one at the end of the 9 days trip.

It really is a neat setup and we’re all pretty proud of it and all the parts and the way they’ve evolved over the decades. We’ve had many visitors come by for a peek inside or to share a cup of coffee or a meal. From curious locals or nearby camps to game wardens who were impressed with our camp.

Great! Thanks for taking us along!

This right here is what elk season is all about. Awesome right up!!!

Todd

That's an incredible setup! How many trucks does it take to haul all that up the hill?

It all fits in one trailer. Lately a 16’ enclosed cargo trailer but in years past we generally hauled it in a stock trailer we use to haul cattle.
Here’s a better kitchen picture

Deluxe “facility” out back.

Jeebus, your crapper is fancier than my whole setup!

Cool outfit you have for certain.

That wood stove must keep y’all toasty! That rascal must be pretty dang heavy to tote.

The gas stove is awesome! Do y’all use the oven to bake too?

What was the coldest weather you camped in?

The wood stove is a Better’n Ben’s, brick lined and 3/8” plate construction. It’s a heavy sucker but it draws and dampers well and holds heat all night.

The gas range is fully functional right down to the oven and broiler. We use the oven to bake biscuits, hams, and turkeys, as well as scratch made cornbread and the occasional pot pie.

This year we had pretty cold temps, it was 9deg several mornings. There’s been years where it’s been brutally cold staying in the low teens for highs but not in the last couple decades. The black plastic sheeting covering the tent in the above picture not only helps shed snow but is remarkably effective at trapping heat in the tent as well as catching the sun and heating the tent during the day.

👍

That’s awesome! Congrats on living it up. Hope you find a way to continue the camp.

thanks for the story!

i am one of the "aged out" guys and i sure miss it.

That is one awesome camp!!

Truly, an awe inspiring, adventure Kid !!

Loved it.

Great stuff Kid, thanks for sharing it with us.

Kid, how long will it be before you bring your son along? I bet he's ready, already.

I was initially planning on bringing him along this year just so he could share a camp with his Great Grandad who he’s named after. We’ll see what next year holds as far as Grandad’s health goes. He’s 90 now and in better shape than any other 90 year old I know so we’ll hope for the best.

When he was 87 he bought his last bull tag and went up the mountain every day and sat in a saddle where he’s killed several bulls in the past. One evening at dark when we came off the mountain there were two wardens waiting at the trailhead. I asked if they needed to check my license and they declined but said they’d heard there was a nearly 90 year old man from Oklahoma up here hunting way up on the ridge and they were waiting to meet him and shake his hand. He showed up shortly after and like to have never got away from him they talked so long.

My Dad is almost 96 and this is the first year he hasn't hunted with a gun. I'm sure your little man is ready, enjoy your time together it goes by fast.

Great adventures!
Sadly, there are only 2 regulars left of our original elk camp. Also watched a big elk camp of a bunch of old Norwegians from Seattle in the Cascades dwindle over a period of years. Sad since you know your time is coming…

You guys must dream about that trip all year! Thanks for sharing a great story. Wish we had more tales like this to read here in the Campfire Forums.

Excellent write up and a tradition to be proud of! Well done in respects!

G.G Dad needs G.G son in elk camp . that would be great for both I am sure in my op. glade you had a good time kid

Awesome story of a family tradition. My family used to do things like that for Deer season in Michigan as well as the Steelhead opener as well....

Frog---OUT!

That's awesome! I can feel the mood and the atmosphere. You live in a great country. And - a nice trip with adults only - no women, no girls!

Great write-up Kid. Thanks for sharing your treasured memories with us here on the 'fire!

Great thread and tale kid thanks for taking us along.pm. inbound..mb

Love it, thanks for sharing

That looks like a great family adventure.Memories for sure.
Looks like it would be a blast,even w/o a harvest.

Congrats Kid, you're living the dream. Thanks for the blue ribbon content.

Nicely done. Looks like a great time.

Pretty impressive camp setup.

Great tradition, thanks for sharing.

This was a great read, thanks for sharing

Awesome read man. Thanks for sharing.

Dave

Thanks for the story. I must say, this was better put together than most magazine articles I've read lately. Congrats on your success and keeping the traditions alive!