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AH elite
By Leica Hunting Pro Adam Foss
It was the evening before my first elk season and all I could do was wait. I surveyed the herd from a rocky perch, sun slipping behind a jagged skyline, and wondered how the following days’ events would unfold. The razor-sharp images of dark sweeping, ivory-tipped horns through the Televid were etched in my memory leaving a sleepless few hours cut short. The moon-lit stalk was on.
Though I didn’t connect opening day, the deep throaty bugles of that first herd bull left their impression. I was addicted to elk hunting.
For me, learning to hunt a mature bull elk for the first time was a trial and error process, with a major emphasis on error. Dealing with so many variables at any give time was almost sinister. The swirling wind. A curious cow. A misplaced footstep. All resulted in the pieces being flung from the board and the game restarted.
Yet still, the desire to complete the quest remained. If I failed – which seemed more and more imminent as the season trickled by – I knew that the adventure of the pursuit and commitment to the challenge was worth more than a just a notched tag. So I pushed on, kept searching and kept failing. I knew that a glimpse of a bull through the dark shadows would provide another learning opportunity. But would it be a chance to acheive a dream? It was the humble process of learning that kept me returning to the hills to find out.
Sometimes, when you’re down and beaten and feel like the hunt has slipped away, you receive a stroke of good fortune at the most needed time. This time, it was a blood-curdling bugle followed by the perfect, consistent breeze in my face. The rut was tailing off, but the best elk hunters I knew advised me to stay out there and stay focused. With the shadows beginning to lengthen and the October aspens glowing golden, it was now or never.
From what I could see and hear through the timber, there was at least 20 cows and perhaps six or seven bulls. All of which were fired up. I cautiously placed my feet on the pinecone-covered forest floor with every step, praying the audible cracks and pops wouldn’t give me away. I tried to single out a single bull, but there was too much commotion. There were bugling bulls, sparring raghorns and cows circling to avoid the satellites’ pursuit – all within 100 yards. I could hear at least two mature-sounding bulls on the opposite side of the herd, but I was overstaying my welcome.
A group of cows had detected me and nervously pushed the group away. I had to make a move before the rest followed. I walked directly towards the largest sounding bull, alerting spikes and cows to my left and right. I crested a small rise to find an open meadow with elk rumps circling two mature, dark-horned six points, aggressively crashing their antlers together in front of an audience. A quick scan with the Ultravids revealed the left was slightly larger.
I punched the button on the Rangemaster, and drew my bow. However, the rapid movement of the jousting, antler-locked bulls prevented a shot opportunity. I let down and waited for them to pause. Again, I came to full draw and was forced to let down. Finally, as I drew a third time, the larger bull turned to his right and began to walk broadside. A quick mouth call stopped him in his tracks. Before he could swing his head around, the arrow was on it’s deadly mission. As if in slow motion, evening light filtering through kicked-up dust, I watched my arrow bury behind his shoulder. The bull dashed towards cover, then hit the forest floor and laid still forever.
As I ran my hands over his thick antlers I knew the busted-up warrior was the one I’d waited for. Many miles from the trailhead and split up from my partner, good friend and elk hunting guru Steven Drake, the time for reflection quickly passed. I got to work, adrenaline still coursing through my veins. Never having broken down an animal of this size alone, I was yet again thankful for the words of experienced elk hunters who had advised me.
I had the first load to camp around 1:00 A.M. and was met by Steve, who’d heard me coming and was already lacing up his shoes. Steve is one of the handful guys I know who’d be genuinely thrilled at the prospect of shuttling heavy loads throughout the night. I couldn’t ask for a better elk hunting partner.
As we packed out the bull over the course of the next day and a half, I reflected on the adventure. Even if I could, I wouldn’t trade the ups and downs for anything as it only added to the feeling of having it all come together.
– Leica Hunting Pro Adam Foss
Gear used: Televid 82, Ultravid 10×42,Rangemaster 1600b
Photos: Steven Drake & Will Freihofer
