Elk hunt interrupted - 09/16/13
On Saturday I planned a good overnighter with some hunting buddies into the southfork, but they couldn't leave until late afternoon. So in the morning I decided I would head up to do a quick elk hunt in a honey hole above my home, just to sit for a while and call, just to see if I could be packing meat instead of sleeping out with the grizzlies in the southfork. It was just getting light when I started up my trail, I didn't need a headlamp, as I could make out the ground pretty well. I could hear ravens a short way off, making kind of "wake up" sounds high in a tree. My first thought was they were sitting above a carcass of some sort, waiting for more daylight to feel safe enough to fly down and peck away. Second thought, oh man, some hunter whacked my bull yesterday and they are cleaning up whats left. I wasn't an eighth of a mile into my hike when off the left side of the trail in some very thick brush I heard a light growl. I instantly thought it was a bear, just letting me know he was there and I should leave. I bent over to look under some limbs and in a perfectly framed window of branches I could see a lion. Ears flattened out, growling, very upset, 25 yards ahead. What followed, took just seconds, but felt like minutes.
My first thought, oh crap, she's ticked, second thought, I got a tag for that! I immediately backed down the trail to hopefully calm the big cat, and started getting an arrow out of my quiver. She is having none of it, slinks out of the timber onto the trail in plain view, then quickly cuts the distance in half. I am now shaking like a dog crapping tacs, trying to knock this arrow. Do you know how hard that is to do with that kind of adrenaline coursing through your veins? I get it knocked, hook my release on the loop, draw way to quick and hard, causing my arrow to bounce off my drop-away rest. Oh Lord... by some miracle, I willed it back onto the rest, centered the pin right under her chin, and touched it off. Thank God she slowed into a crouch at 12 yards. If she had kept coming at that original pace, she and I were fighting hand to claw.
The arrow hit her in the brisket with a very loud smack. She recoiled, and turned up the trail, and bounded off the right of the trail, making the loudest crashing noises, rivaling ANY bull I have ever killed. It seemed like an eternity of crashing sounds in the woods, then in an instant, the forest fell silent. I am just standing there, basically in shock and awe. It's always surreal seeing a mountain lion in the woods, more so, to me, than ANY OTHER species of critter I have laid eyes on in the forest. Then in another instant, the silence is interrupted by another broken growling sound. I know now, or at least believed she just expired. I took note of where the sound came from, broke all the rules of bowhunting, and headed straight in toward the sound. Mind you, this is the thickest crap you could imagine searching for a downed animal. I got in about 80-100 yards, into a small clearing, came to my senses and realized I am not going to find this lion like this, and what if she isn't dead, what if I didn't make a good hit, and now she is sitting within one leap of me, planning my demise. I call my wife and tell her what just happened, then call my very good friend that lives nearby, and ask him if he has a little time to help me find this thing. While he is on his way, I go back to the beginning, like a good bowhunter, looking for an arrow at the point of impact. Nope. Then look for some blood, yep, but not much. Back up the trail, then off into the woods, just as I remember. Very little blood, but just enough to keep the track. I got to a point of losing any sign of blood, and decided to wait for Mike to show. I was sitting there wishing I had my drahthaar with me, she could find this thing in a blink. I hear Mike over on the trail and whistle him over. Within minutes we are both like a couple hounds searching, nearly on hands and knees for blood. �Got blood,� he says, then a little more and a little more, right back into the original clearing I walked to. He looks up, and says, �Is that a lion?� Yep, there she is, under a small clump of piss fir, not 20 feet from where I was earlier.
Together, we carry her back to the trail and onto the waiting game cart he brought up. Easy run back down the hill, and into the trunk of a Honda civic?�.oops.
![[Linked Image]](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v515/drahthaar/lions/0914130812c_zps8114560b.jpg)
My first thought, oh crap, she's ticked, second thought, I got a tag for that! I immediately backed down the trail to hopefully calm the big cat, and started getting an arrow out of my quiver. She is having none of it, slinks out of the timber onto the trail in plain view, then quickly cuts the distance in half. I am now shaking like a dog crapping tacs, trying to knock this arrow. Do you know how hard that is to do with that kind of adrenaline coursing through your veins? I get it knocked, hook my release on the loop, draw way to quick and hard, causing my arrow to bounce off my drop-away rest. Oh Lord... by some miracle, I willed it back onto the rest, centered the pin right under her chin, and touched it off. Thank God she slowed into a crouch at 12 yards. If she had kept coming at that original pace, she and I were fighting hand to claw.
The arrow hit her in the brisket with a very loud smack. She recoiled, and turned up the trail, and bounded off the right of the trail, making the loudest crashing noises, rivaling ANY bull I have ever killed. It seemed like an eternity of crashing sounds in the woods, then in an instant, the forest fell silent. I am just standing there, basically in shock and awe. It's always surreal seeing a mountain lion in the woods, more so, to me, than ANY OTHER species of critter I have laid eyes on in the forest. Then in another instant, the silence is interrupted by another broken growling sound. I know now, or at least believed she just expired. I took note of where the sound came from, broke all the rules of bowhunting, and headed straight in toward the sound. Mind you, this is the thickest crap you could imagine searching for a downed animal. I got in about 80-100 yards, into a small clearing, came to my senses and realized I am not going to find this lion like this, and what if she isn't dead, what if I didn't make a good hit, and now she is sitting within one leap of me, planning my demise. I call my wife and tell her what just happened, then call my very good friend that lives nearby, and ask him if he has a little time to help me find this thing. While he is on his way, I go back to the beginning, like a good bowhunter, looking for an arrow at the point of impact. Nope. Then look for some blood, yep, but not much. Back up the trail, then off into the woods, just as I remember. Very little blood, but just enough to keep the track. I got to a point of losing any sign of blood, and decided to wait for Mike to show. I was sitting there wishing I had my drahthaar with me, she could find this thing in a blink. I hear Mike over on the trail and whistle him over. Within minutes we are both like a couple hounds searching, nearly on hands and knees for blood. �Got blood,� he says, then a little more and a little more, right back into the original clearing I walked to. He looks up, and says, �Is that a lion?� Yep, there she is, under a small clump of piss fir, not 20 feet from where I was earlier.
Together, we carry her back to the trail and onto the waiting game cart he brought up. Easy run back down the hill, and into the trunk of a Honda civic?�.oops.
![[Linked Image]](http://smg.photobucket.com/user/drahthaar/media/lions/0914130812c_zps8114560b.jpg.html)
