A few years ago, a friend went mule deer hunting with Salt River Range Outfitters in Western WY, he had a great hunt with them, but they told him while he was out there that elk hunting was their specialty. He was booking a hunt with them again for elk and I had always wanted to do it, asked my dad if he wanted to go, and he agreed, so we put in for a preference point and got drawn the following year. October rolled around, me trying to get some shooting in with my rifle, trying to get in shape, and trying to read as much as I could about elk hunting. My buddy that booked his hunt was going a few weeks before us, and sent me a picture of his bull before they even started quartering it (it amazes me how good cell phone reception is in the mountains there!). Now time really started to drag, to say I was pumped to get into those mountains was an understatement.
Finally the time came, my dad and I made it to the airport, and we landed in Jackson Hole without any trouble, and our bags even made it with us (something I always worry about when flying to a hunting trip). Anyway, Dee (the outfitter's wife) met us at the airport and drove us the 60 miles to camp. When we got there, there was a group of 4 PA hunters there whom just finished their hunt, and all 4 had tagged out. I talked with them to get a feel for what we were going to be doing on our hunt, and seeing their excitement and enthusiasm was making me even more anxious to get into the hills and start chasing elk. They reported seeing elk every day, some tough shooting, but an all around good time. We met with our guide Tyler that afternoon, he got us set up on our horses, took us to make sure our rifles were still sited in, and then we turned in to bed. Needless to say, I didn't sleep much that night.
The next morning we got out of bed around 4:30, trailered the horses, and made our way to a trail head. Once we got there, it was still dark, and the rain came. Pouring rain, Tyler explained that the elk probably wouldn't be moving much in those conditions, and we would probably be best to wait it our for a bit, even though I was chomping at the bit to get out after some elk, my dad and I had basically no experience on horses, so I was a bit relieved that we wouldn't be making our first run in the dark. The morning got light pretty quickly and the rain subsided about the same time, so we got on the horses and made our way down the trail. It was a little tough on my dad whom was riding a horse aptly named Monster (Tyler said he weighed about 1700 pounds, I'm not good at guesstimating weight, but I can tell you he was huge!). Dad and I switched horses, and then went up some pretty tough hills, crossed some streams, and just as we were making our way to where Tyler wanted to do some spotting the rain came back. We took shelter in some pines, I walked around, took some pictures, spotted a few mule deer, and eventually Tyler saw a lot of other horse tracks on the trails and said that it looked like that area had been hunted pretty hard, so we may as well try another area. On the way out we spotted some more mule deer ( a bunch of does and a few smaller bucks), and got back to the truck. Tyler's Dodge weaved back and forth on the muddy road, and the rain continued. We made it back to camp, took the horse trailer off, and did some glassing from the truck. We didn't see any elk that day, and I was starting to get a little worried, the other hunters that had just finished their hunt saw elk every day, and I,was beginning to wonder if we were just going to have bad luck on this hunt. At dinner, other hunters in camp said that they hadn't seen much other than the short break in the rain that morning, either- so I chalked it up to the weather for the day, and was ready to get back on the horse for the morning.
We woke up at the same time the next morning, and Tyler said that we were going to be riding a lot further this day to get where he wanted to hunt. He wasn't kidding. We started in the dark, Monster taking me straight up a few mountains, and we eventually got on a trail that was pretty heavily wooded, and we're going through the woods for several hours before it got light. When it did get light, we had just come out of the woods, and got off the horses to do some glassing, just in time to see a beautiful mule deer buck about 300 yards away. I watched him for a while, but we weren't hunting mule deer so we continued on. We rode up a steep drainage, my white knuckles holding onto the saddle horn for dear life the whole way. We finally made it to the top, and the views were breath taking to me. Beautiful blue mountain lakes, pine forests, it seemed like you could see forever up there. My dad was struggling with his horse keeping up (his horse was not so aptly named Speedy) with us. Tyler got off of his horse to glass and as soon as he sat down, he motioned for me to get off my horse with my rifle. I jumped off my horse (which isn't as easy as John Wayne makes it look), and Tyler said there was a bull below us, he ranged it at 465 yards, I held just over his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. I still don't remember the rifle recoiling or the bang, but I looked at the elk, he stood there. Tyler said something I didn't understand and to shoot again, I already had another round chambered, and I squeezed another round off, again nothing. Now the bull was getting nervous and was quickly walking to our right, I chambered another round and when he stopped for a second I squeezed another round off, and this time saw dust fly just over top of him. He ran off, and we watched as he ran the whole way over the top of the mountain and onto the next. I couldn't believe I just missed an elk. I was disgusted, Tyler kept his cool about him but I think he was understandably upset, too, evidently what he was telling me that I didn't hear was that I was shooting right over the bull's back. My dad came up just as the bull was running over the mountain, and we showed him where it was when I shot, he consoled me by saying it was a tough shot, but it didn't help my ego much. Tyler said that we would walk the horses back a ways to where we would eat lunch and we were going to meet up with another guide and his two hunters. As we walked back and I thought about my shots, looked at the scenery, and even though I was still disappointed at myself, I thought how lucky I really was to be there. We made it to where we were going to eat lunch and got there just in time to see a big group of doe and fawn mule deer running around an opening down below us. The other hunters had not seen any elk that day, but their guide spotted a group of bulls past where I had shot at mine. The horses were too tired to make it over to where they were and they were going to go back the next day to try for them, so we started the white knuckle ride (for me, anyway), out of there. It was steep and really tough riding for me, but we made it to the wooded trail and it leveled out a bit eventually. When we got to an area that we were riding along a fence, I saw a tree that was near the fence on our side and everyone was riding between the fence and the tree. I saw Monster wasn't going to fit as well between there and I tried to steer him around the tree, but he followed the other horses, I tried pulling my foot out of the stirrup, but wasn't quick enough, Monster smashed my knee into the tree, my foot twisted so that it was pointing backwards, and pain shot through my whole leg. I sat on the horse and continued riding out, but when we go to some steep hills just before we got out, I knew I was going to to have to get off the horse, not being able to straighten my leg for the descent. I got off the horse, and fell down when that leg didn't want to hold any weight. I walked along Monster using him as a crutch, and we finally made it down to some flat land again, where I got back up on him, but my knee was throbbing in pain. We got back to the truck, I pulled my pant leg up,and the knee was already swollen, and we went back to camp. I put some ice on it, which helped with the swelling, but not so much with the pain. I could still barely put any weight on it, and my dad told me I better take the next day off and if it wasn't any better we would need to get to a hospital. I hated the thought of missing a day of hunting, but I wasn't much good without being able to out my weight down on that leg.
The next day rolled around and my dad and Tyler did some looking in the morning, without seeing any elk, came back late in the morning and checked on me, got some lunch, and took the horses out for the afternoon. It was getting dark and Matt (the outfitter) came in my bunk with a smile on his face and said that my dad had killed an elk. I asked him for all the details, but he didn't know much other than he had gotten one, and he wasn't sure if they were going to pack it out that night or go back in the morning. Before long my dad came back in and I could tell he didn't want to show all of his excitement over getting an elk while I was sitting in camp with a bum knee, he said it wasn't a very big bull, but he wasn't going to be picky (it was his first elk hunt, too). I congratulated him and was really excited because at 66 years old and being his first Western elk hunt, he had a lot out I be proud of. They didn't pack the elk out that night and we were going to go in the next morning and pack it out.
We slept in a little that morning, getting to the trailhead just as it was getting light. We got on the horses and within about 20 minutes got to about where my dad's bull was. We tied the horses up and walked into the woods, found his elk (a respectable 4x4) took some pictures, and Tyler was starting to cut the bull up,when he asked me to go back for the horses. My knee was still sore, but it was only a few hundred yards to the horses, so I left my rifle with them and walked back. When I was a little less than 50 yards from the horses, I looked to the mountain to my right, and saw an elk's hindquarters sticking out from behind a pine tree. I looked a little further to the right, and there was another elk, this one a small bull. I looked at the hind quarters sticking out of the pine tree, and thought that thing looked huge compared to the smaller bull and the one my dad had killed. Now I had a little dilemma, do I rush back to my dad and Tyler to get my rifle or do I grab the horse first. I clearly wasn't thinking straight because I went for the horse, figuring I could walk on the other side of the horse for cover. I untied the new horse I was riding that day, Hooch, and tried pulling him, he wouldn't budge! I pulled as hard as I could and all Hooch would do was look at me. I quickly gave up, scurried behind some cover to put between me and the elk, and made my way back to get my rifle (now thinking why didn't you bring it with you to get the horse!). I got about 30 yard from my dad and Tyler, now busily cutting up his elk, and waved them over to me, Tyler said, "Where's the horse!?" I quickly motioned to bring the rifles over, and they got the idea quickly, grabbing guns and running towards me. I told Tyler where the elk were, one was definitely a bull, but the other one seemed a lot bigger (I still hadn't seen his rack, yet, if it had one). We got into position, and just as we did the bigger elk stepped out, and with my naked eye I could see his dark horns, with light tips on every point. Tyler said, "That's a great bull, we need to get this one." I agreed. I asked him how far it was, and he said he didn't bring his rangefinder because he thought we were just packing my dad's elk out. He looked, thought for a second, and said it was about 500 yards. I put my rifle up, and a small tree was blocking his shoulder. I looked at his rack through the scope for a second, and took my head off the stock to catch my breath for a second. Just as I did, Tyler said to hold right over his shoulder, and the bull moved forward, clearing the small tree with his shoulder. He was facing to the left, and I put the crosshairs right over his shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The gun went off and nothing again, he stood there. My thoughts went back to the bull I missed 2 days before, but this time I saw the bullet hit over his shoulder. He turned around an went back to the right, I adjusted my hold and squeezed the trigger again. The bull stood there, but something felt different about that shot, I chambered another round and kept the crosshairs right where I thought they should be while I squeezed. The gun went off, and he still stood there. The shots felt right but I wasn't sure, I went to put another round in the gun and he took off, my dad yelled, "He's going down!" and I realized he wasn't running, he was stumbling down the mountain. High 5's all around, I think my dad was more excited about it than I was. Tyler congratulated me again, and told me to watch and make sure he didn't come out of the thicket, while he and my dad went back and finished cutting his elk up. I sat there, still not believing how it all happened, and didn't even care if my knee was still sore. They finished cutting the elk up pretty quickly, and we made our way down the mountain we were on with the horses, then had to tie them up and made our way up to my bull on foot, up the steepest, thickest hill I ever climbed, Tyler beating my dad and I to the bull, but when I got there, it was worth everything. I couldn't believe the sheer size of the body, let alone the antlers (I don't think I'll ever look at a whitetail the same way again!). We took some pictures, and then started quartering the bull, which was quite a job on that steep of a hill, especially as thick as it was where the bull fell.I helped as much as I could with Tyler doing all the cutting, and before I knew it we were ready to start down toward the horses with the meat, and that was tough, but again, worth every second of it. We made it down to the horses and loaded as much as we could on them, but would have to come back and take another load. My dad and Tyler rode out while I walked out with my dad's elk head and antlers on my back. I was on cloud nine on the way out, then I went across a stream, my left foot slipped between 2 rocks, the pack's weight shifted on my back, and wretched the knee I hurt two days before. It hurt. I still hobbled out with a grin on my face. :grin:
We did another quick trip for some more meat, got it to the truck, and took everything to a processor in Thayne, dropped my elk off at a taxidermist, grabbed a pizza, and went back to camp. No one was there yet to share our story with, so I got the first good sleep I had since we got out there. I learned a lot on this trip, but most importantly, I will go hunting out West as much as I can afford to in the future, because I definitely have never had as much fun as I did on this trip.
