Baffled, Bugled and Bugged

[Deleted member 33033]

As hunters go…I consider myself a novice and compared to some guys I know, I am barely a hunter at all. There are far more guys with superior woodsmanship and stalking skills than I may ever hope to learn. I often envy these guys, they enter the wilderness with a unique confidence…for they are as comfortable there as they are in their own living rooms. I had not experienced this comfort. Whenever I entered the field; as I leave the roads behind me, I feel a strange sense of foreboding…I am not at one with the forest. At least, not until this year. Usually as I tread deeper into the wilderness I am filled with an electrical sensation of excitement, my senses keenly alive and I feel I am both predator and prey. Entering the wilderness feels like the beginning of a great adventure to me…as if I am discovering a new unchartered land or something.

The forest casts shadows over the terrain and the collage of plants, rocks, deadfall and sunlight strewn so much like the patterns in a kaleidoscope that I have difficulty actually seeing anything at first. An elk could be standing still 30 yards away and I might not see it for the busyness of the view. There is so much to take in…I pause and remind myself to slow down. Even with a knee injury I am moving too quickly.

At 9,000+ feet where my journey begins, glassing from near the top of Bill Williams Mountain I have never felt so old. I live at the beach and sea level is a world away today. I smile at the realization I have once again placed myself in a forest I know little about and may not be entirely equipped to handle. Oh well…that never stopped me before and perhaps, that’s where the fun is. On a rocky outcropping I find a perfect lion track. Usually I would find this disconcerting but amazingly, I am delighted and completely unafraid. I stopped in Kingman on the drive up and purchased a lion tag. I wanna see one now.



It’s warm, real warm and muggy. The kind of heat that makes the forest silent. Nothing is moving, or so it seems. Even the insects are not bothering me…perhaps they too are resting, just as I suspect the elk are resting. I picture them in my mind, laying in their muddy wallows in a state of half sleep waiting for the cooling breezes of dusk.

Well I could go on and on about the first three days wandering around at various elevations looking for something besides tracks and scat. I wanted to see elk, not evidence of lightning strikes every 60 feet. Seriously, everywhere we went we saw trees burnt, blown apart and fried from electrical storms lay strewn in a vast tree graveyard. It was eerie and made me keenly aware of changes in the cloud cover. There was one day when the wind always was at our back and we changed direction for times. It was very frustrating. We saw several pronghorn and deer including one MONSTER buck… everything but elk. At one point we spotted elk from 3 miles or more away in the lower junipers but after racing to the spot, they had magically morphed into antelope. Sneaky basstardos! This is my very good friend Gary (Bubblehide to you) aka, The Glassmaster!



Hiking in Arizona’s Unit 8 was maddening. We would select an area devoid of roads and hike in that direction for a couple hours, then what we thought was a plane crashing turned out to be road hunters in ATVs on closed roads that were not shown on our map! This would be repeated too many times. Apparently the Obama Administration had begun a blood feud with the State and closed thousands of NF roads. I guess King Barry was unhappy with AZ Gov. Jan Brewer pointing her finger at him. We would get up at 2:20am, shower, be in the field an hour or more before first light and start hiking with our ears open. Mostly we were greeted with silence except for the occasional novice caller using every call in his pocket…………..badly. I can recognize a Hoochie Mama anywhere.

So then I decided to break down and called the local GW who had been helpful to me months earlier in planning my hike. He gave me a couple of places to check out and finally we are in the elk. Big THANKS to Game Warden Mike Rice. I called him at 2PM on Monday, Sep 15th and at 4:15 I was seeing elk. Things moved quickly after that. We were in the truck when we spotted a massive rack of what must be the dominant bull in the area (he was escorted by several cows including one that was clearly over 800lbs and perhaps closer to a half ton). We watched where they were heading, sped past em a quarter mile, parked and sprinted to an ambush point where we expected them to crest a hilltop. I had just reached the point I wanted to shoot from, had an arrow nocked when the big ole girl busted us. Another 30-60 seconds and I would have had a 50 yard shot. But as they say, that’s elk for ya. They just know. I did take a mock full draw shot though cuz I like taking photos. LOL



I sat on a watering hole till last light for nothing and returned to the motel for a celebratory filet mignon and some much needed rest. When I woke up I was covered in bug bites…serious bites. It almost looked like a rash on my back there were so many…dozens of em, large and small. I had em on my hands, face, neck shoulders, chest and belly too but my back was a mess. No backpack for Bruce. I scrubbed with soap and the hottest water I could stand, swallowed a bunch of antihistamines, grabbed my hip pack and we returned to the land of Mr. BigRack. The sound of his bugles made my itching lessen. We worked towards the calls in the dark and when we were within 190 yards, saw the herd enjoying breakfast on the wrong side of the private property fence. Figures, right?



Then it happened…one of those Uh Oh moments when you realize the wind is at your back. The 90 degree shift happened so fast we couldn’t move quickly enough and the herd was gone, dropping from one private parcel to the next with no chance of a shot in between. Bugles got more distant and we gave up the chase, completely spent and exhausted. My wool shirt was soaking wet with sweat and the itching on my back became a burning. I didn’t know it at the time but I later learned I have a rare and serious allergy to bed bug bites. It was unbearable. By 1pm I was packed up and headed home. The long drive home was quiet as disappointment swallowed up any attempt at conversation like a black hole. The following morning my dermatologist was confirming the severity of my condition, prescribing $225.00 cortisone cream and telling me I would be hating life for a week. I assumed she meant a five day work week and scheduled a return to the same spot on Monday, Sep 22nd. In the meantime I am soaking in the hot tub and scrubbing these bites until I’m bleeding to clear em up and dry em out. This is not the recommended treatment but it seems to be working for me. Tequila with antihistamines is also part of my (doctor unapproved) regimen. We’ll see. The good news is I never once felt out of place, in over my head… I am a true predator now. My confidence remains high and my leg is somehow holding up despite the steepness of the country. Life cannot get much better than this. Stay tuned…

 

[EliteGame530]

Awesome read! Good luck when you go back out bud! Can't wait to hear more!!

 

[dustin ray]

A second chance is all you need i hope you get to throw an arrow and you find it RED

 

[Deleted member 33033]

Doctor said sitting in hot chlorinated water would leave scars. Hahahaha...as if that matters at my age! I just wanna hunt. Two days in the pool/spa and my hide is looking like leather but the damn itching is gone and I will be wearing pack again next week. Soaked everything with Permethrin to kill any hitchhiking bed bugs and will wash all my gear this weekend. Leaving Sunday and hoping to be be back on em Monday...scars and all.

 

[Jake F]

GOOD LUCK BRUCE!!! I'm itching just reading your story! I cant wait until you next post hopefully describing the kill.

 

[Deleted member 33033]

Part II


When I attempted to leave for AZ on Sep 11th my truck decided it didn’t wanna go and began spitting like a pissed off camel. It appeared to be the water pump and was towed home. My good buddy Gary saved the day by picking me up in his 4X4 truck which effectively added about five hours of driving (round trip) for him. Major save! Our original idea was to meet in Hesperia, transfer gear from my truck to his and head to AZ together from there but the angry camel cancelled that plan. I am blessed to have such a good friend. As hunting partners go…he’s top shelf.





So I got the truck back from the shop and was fortunate enough to only need the thermostat replaced…no damage to the engine because I shut it down immediately. So I intend to load the ole girl up and hit the road at 3am Sunday and plan to meet a longtime long range fishing buddy in Flagstaff. Now this guy is an AZ elk killing machine. His name is Mike and he’s the real deal. Always fills his tags AND makes it look easy. If it swims, runs or flies…if Mike’s around it dies.







The area I will be hunting has a lot of elk lovers there who like to honk their horns when they see hunters or hunting vehicles. Yeah, even Arizona has people who view elk as pets. I am told many of these property owners are “inhospitable to hunters” and will deny access to your animal. Fish & Game won’t intervene and the FS guy told me it’s a Catch 22 when a mortally injured elk runs onto private property. You have to trespass onto the property to request permission to trespass onto the property. Hmmmm. If this happens I am going to try this approach, lemme know if you have a better idea:


Knock Knock


“Good morning, my name is Bruce and circumstances force me to speak to you. This is the last thing I wanted to do. I shot a cow elk on public land not far from here and it ran onto your property. I respect your property rights and stopped the pursuit at your fence. Fish & Game laws require me to make every effort to retrieve the animal and to make sure it does not suffer. I suspect it is dead but it may not be so I am requesting permission to access your property to retrieve it and, if it is still alive, end its suffering. You have every right to deny me access in which case I must report this to Fish & Game so a Game Warden can come and investigate the incident and/or put the animal down but that will take time and really isn’t fair to the animal. I know this is upsetting to you and am very sorry things turned out as they have. I have no choice at this point other than to respect your decision but if you will allow me to enter your property, I will be sure to leave nothing behind that could attract predators.”


What else can ya say? Anyone been in this situation that has a better option? Please share it if ya do. There’s an easy 50-50 probability I will find myself talking to a person who enjoys watching the elk eat their lawn as they drink their morning coffee.


My next update will come after a cow drops or the season ends.

 

[Bubblehide]

While Bruce quickly found his comfort zone in the woods, I reached my frustration level. Well, Bruce's truck breaking down, set us back a few hours, and were were slightly sleep deprived with our early wake-up and departure. Fortunately, Bruce called me early in my departure, and I did not have much back-tracking to do. We arrived in Arizona, settled in, and still went out to explore despite needing sleep. We checked out a few places recommended by the Arizona Game and Fish, and decided on a starting point. For the both of us, it was new territory; totally unfamiliar. Generally, I'm reasonably comfortable in unfamiliar territory. However, this zone appeared to be heavily vegetated with a variety of trees, from pines to oak, and there were very few places with more than a 100 yard view. Any place with a longer view, seemed to have other hunters camping there.

We arrived after a series of monsoon rains. Rains that caused flooding, closed roads... in both Az and Nv. Subsequently, the zone looked more like a rain forest in south America than the mountains of the northern rim of the Mogollon Rim as described by Louis L'Amour. We were after Elk, and everywhere looked like prime elk habitat. Let me say that differently, everywhere had prime elk feed, and a variety of it. To top if off, water was everywhere. The roads were wet. Hell, in some places, the water looked so deep, I wanted to roll up my window (I had it down in hopes of hearing some bulging). Every single place we went (drove or hiked), had elk sign, some old, some not so old. Every once in a while, we would come across fresh elk sign, just not enough of it to get me to excited. It didn't take to long for me to figure out that the elk could meet their needs anywhere; but where was the question.

I have honey holes that I hunt, and I know better than anyone, that what really makes them honey holes, is the intimate knowledge of the local animals, the areas they prefer, the areas they use, cross, bed, feed... Considering the jungle we were in, we needed local knowledge, or a place the elk used outside of the jungle. After all, I was there not only as a support person for Bruce, but I wanted to put him on the elk. After a couple days of stealthy traversing the jungle, only to find people on ATV's, and trucks using closed roads; many times, only being able to hear them due to the thick JUNGLE we were in. Knowing that we would never see elk in this jungle, unless they ran us over; we switched it up and headed to the low country oft he unit. We arrived just before sun-up. It was a low rolling hills type of cedar country. It slowly rolled, and rose into the higher elevations of the jungle we were in, just the day before. We drove past one hunt camp; a promising sight, considering that we had not yet seen a single elk. The road started to turn a bit rough, and I put it in 4-low, locking the hubs, and continued to zig zag into the higher rolling hills. Still in the low lands, but at the edge of the rolling hills as they climbed up, I spot a massive buck feeding his way along a sliver of junipers. In excitement, I point, almost yelling at Bruce "LOOK AT THAT BUCK!" Bruce maintains a much lower volume, likely afraid it will hear us. But you can hear and feel the excitement in his voice as he proclaims "that's no buck, that's an elk!" Now this particular animal, if it was a buck, was exceptionally tall, and wide. Doubting myself, I stopped and pulled up my binoculars. Yep, this bad boy was indeed a buck, one of those once in a lifetime bucks; the third I have seen in my lifetime. Clearly it would be at the top of the record books. The first one I ever seen was a Ca buck, in X-5B; At first, I thought it was an elk, but soon realized in was a buck, a deer. But damn, antlers just aren't supposed to be so tall, the tines aren't supposed to be so long, unless they are on an elk. In short, I know what Bruce was experiencing as he looked upon this magnificent animal; as it put me in a place I had only been in twice before. Alas, we were there for elk, not deer, and we did not have a deer tag, so we moved on, as this magnificent animal watched us bounce past a few hundred yards away.

We finally reached a place that the road appeared to end. I stopped the truck, tossed my pack on, and set up the spotter, a Nikon ED-80. It took a little while, and Bruce decided to check the slope to our north, as I could not see it from my location. He finally came back as frustration was setting in with us both. A minute or two later, I see some brown. I center on the 4 small spots of brown and see movement. I can see 4 legs, a body, and heads on them all. They look like elk. I zoom in from 20 power, but the image blurs out in higher power. they are just to far away. I was pretty sure they were elk, so I proclaim, in excitement, "I found em!" Bruce looks through the spotter, but they moved out of the view of the Nikon. I find them again, center on them, and give Bruce another look. Were miles away at this point, but we know that they are really close to where we came in, right off the highway. In excitement, we rush tot he truck, in a mad dash to get to the "elk", before they feed their way to the next county (if you have ever tried to get ahead of feeding elk, you know what I mean). Several hundred yards away, I spot one feeding by a small group of cedars, then a couple more bedded. The realization hits us, we've been duped from a few miles away. We were on the animals all-right, but the wrong kind, imitation elk. Speed goats were not on the hunt menu, at least for this trip. I knew I was not the only one fooled by the imitators, but I was still left embarrassed. Need I say, disappointed. We checked out the country a bit longer. I drove along a ridge, only to realize that I was now in the cedar jungle. I managed to get to a high point, only to realize that once again, to find elk, we would need to be run over by them, as the jungle was just to thick, for miles and miles. We knew we need some help, as we had now drove over half the zone to find only one place with a view more than 100 yards.

We talked it over, and Bruce made the call, head into the forestry office, and then call Mike, the local expert, the Game Warden. It was clear that the people in the Az forestry office were hunter friendly, but they couldn't recommend anyplace were hadn't already been. We exchanged a shared frustration of our experience attempting to get into a place void of ATV's and trucks, and the frustration of finding them road hunting closed roads. The call to Mike was very different, he was obviously interested in Bruce having a successful hunt; and he provided some pretty specific information, if you were really paying attention.

So 5 minutes after talking to Mike, the GW, we decided we had enough light left int he day to try to get an idea of where to hunt in the morning. We get off the freeway, down the exit, and turn right, to an area Mike recommended. We make a right turn onto a dirt road leading to the area Mike recommended, and Not 5 minutes later, with that loud excitement in my voice, expletives leave my mouth, proclaiming that I see elk. Bruce is trying to turn, to see the elk, and more expletives leave my mouth as I tell Bruce about the Bull with this heard of cows. They are working the tree line, and Bruce is having a hard time spotting them, as he needs to twist around to look back, over his shoulder to spot them. Finally, Bruce spots the elk, just as they disappear into the trees. I lightly hit the throttle and make it around a curve, totally out of sight of the elk. I pull off the road, down it's embankment, and park. In a big rush, I throw on my pack and follow Bruce into the woods, after elk, FINALLY! And we're not in the Jungle. We follow the base of a slope, the slope separating us from the elk, and then turn to climb toward the top of the ridge. We're at some trees, stop for a second or two, and move forward. I see a large cow cresting the ridge to our right. I drop to the ground. She's looking away from us, and down the hill. I turn to Bruce, a second later, I can see the excitement in his face, then, a very different look, it seems the Clydesdale sized cow made us, did a back step, and pivoted on a dime, taking the herd with her. After 3 days of seeing nothing but jungle, Bruce and I revel in the experience. My frustration is gone, and I now feel like I am back in my element; once again, I feel like a hunter.

Bruce and I later talk about the elk, the stalk... I tell him about the bull, It's clear that I got a much clearer look at the bull than he did. This is one of those bulls that can slightly lift it's head and scratch his ass, almost without any effort. Seeing it was again, one of those once in a lifetime trophy animal moments. This bull was a dream animal. I hope some lucky hunter with a bull tag bags him later in the season.

It's 2:30am again, and I grab a cup of Joe, look over at Bruce after he steps out of the shower, and he looks like a test dummy of the placebo version of Deet in the height of the Alaskan summer. He's a virtual pin cushion from the neck line down, and the discomfort is written all over him. The weather forecast calls for the return of the monsoon rains from hurricane Odile, as it heads north from Baja. We have time for a half day hunt, before it arrives, and Bruce is ready to go, despite the pin cushion look. We stop the truck a few times on our ay in, in the dark, listening for any sound of elk. We hit the spot we stalked them the evening before, pass it by a bit, and once again, stop the truck, turn her engine off, and listen. Something tells me this is the right spot, and we exit the truck, quietly. We hear the distinctive sound of a bulging bull. we slip off the road, and head toward the sound. It's a race to get ahead of them, but which way are they headed? the wind is in out favor, so we aggressively stealthy move on. The wind changes, we stop, listen, and then see the elk. This time, the bull stays out of sight for me, but Bruce gets another glimpse. They're on private property. But it sounds like they are moving to the north east, back toward public. We go to aggressively move ahead in an attempt to get ahead of them. Once again, the wind shifts, and we stop. We are stuck, with no options. We try to sit it out, but the elk are not moving to the north, they slip down to the south west, into an area with more private property.

With a couple days of monsoon rains, and a backlog of work, Bruce calls it a trip, with plans to return in a few days, to pick up the hunt where we left off. On the drive out we hit a little rain as the country to our south, both east and west, is dancing in the light of a massive electric storm. Bruce reminds me of all those tree remnants we saw, literally everywhere we went on the hunt.


Okay Bruce, hopefully you have a successful follow-up.

 

[Bossbrott]

Wow, great am read, thanks guys!

 

[Deleted member 33033]

The area I will be hunting has a lot of elk lovers there who like to honk their horns when they see hunters or hunting vehicles. Yeah, even Arizona has people who view elk as pets. I am told many of these property owners are “inhospitable to hunters” and will deny access to your animal. Fish & Game won’t intervene and the FS guy told me it’s a Catch 22 when a mortally injured elk runs onto private property. You have to trespass onto the property to request permission to trespass onto the property. Hmmmm.

I am into the elk daily now. The pieces of the puzzle are coming together clearly. Since Mike arrived I have learned more in a few days about elk hunting than I have learned in years of reading. Time spent on the ground with a highly experienced and successful elk hunter is priceless. There is a one huge cow I have set my sights on…even Mike, who has seen many elk over the years says it is the largest cow he had ever seen and it took him 15 minutes of watching her through binoculars in the early morning (as I was stalking her and he hung back) to realize this elk had no antlers. She was almost as big as the 340ish bull she was with. Clearly a dry cow, she was wily and always led the way for the rest.

During my stalk I watched her every move thru the glass, moving when she turned away and had her head down. She never knew I was there. Using the trees I would make large and small gains towards the clearing she was in. Behind me is a road to a large meadow, to my right and left are densely treed hillsides and in front of me is a small (maybe 80-100 yard) clearing filled with feed. With 30 yards left to go a high pitched chirp sounds from behind me and I’m pissed thinking it is Mike. Next I hear a bugle, then two more high pitched chirps and the jig is up…the elk are moving away.

Turns out is wasn’t Mike at all, I had snuck past four other cows on my stalk to big momma and it wasn’t until I had entered the last 73 yards that I became visible to them cuz this is where the area really opened up. I was using one lone tree between the toad cow and myself for cover.

I watched as several elk took off up the hill, saw the bull stop to turn back and give me the stink eye and they were gone. Stupidly I chased after em as soon as they were outta sight. I hoped they had only gone a half mile or so and stopped but they didn’t. Out of breath from running uphill, sweating Rosie O’Donnell in the Florida sun on a humid day and feeling the bad knee coming alive…I stop and take stock of my situation. Mike finally catches up. A hillside seminar on the probability of catching spooked elk quickly raises my IQ.

Another bull is bugling on the opposite hillside…then another below us. This one sounds like a chain smoker. His tone is deep and raw, nothing like the others. I figure it has to be the 370 we spotted (when Gary was with me the week before) and we head in his direction. He MUST have cows!

We drop down and at the bottom hear him rip a long and horse bugle in the deep timber directly above us. I motion for Mike to hang back and begin the climb. I see sign everywhere, like a herd of a thousand has been here. My heart races as I ascend, eyes in the glass looking for that color. 4/5ths of the way up I spot em…cow after cow cresting the top. I’m busted again. Was it the thermals or the dry leaves? Probably both. At the top of the hill I find a large 3’ tall stump and sit to wait for Mike. As I sit I hear a third bull bugle a few hundred yards away in the direction of the truck. Five minutes passes, no Mike. At ten minutes the sounds of the bugles gets to me and I am off, using the cover of the deep, sunless timber to get close.

I am not thinking about anything but getting into these elk. I don’t care where Mike is…he’s a capable guy. My injured knee and other physical limitations cease to exist. I am on a mission and as single-minded as I have ever been in my 54 years. Another long and loud bugle so close I find it jarring stops me in my tracks. I nock an arrow…this is it.

The ground is soft here, the wind is in my favor, the scent of elk is heavy. I move slowly, cautiously…Spidey senses tingling at a full 220 volts. I reach the place they had just been. Busted for a third time. I text Mike…he lost me and is waiting at the truck.

We decide to leave the area and not blow em out of there. Upon return to this same area later, approaching it from another (better and more concealed) angle we find it a cemetery. Total quiet. We beeline it back to the truck as the sun will be up soon.

This is where I really felt good. 18 minutes later and nearly 8 miles away, I drove right to em, spotted em from the road and the chase was on again. Big Momma instantly jumps one of those high pole fences used to corral horses and heads off with the bull and a couple of cows into the public land. The remaining cows walk the fence line apparently uncomfortable with the big leap over the fence. They are half the size of Big Momma. We race down a side road directly between the two groups, park in a low spot and make a plan. Mike will be in the open to drive em over a rocky hillside where the other elk has just gone. I run to the top of that spot and see the big girl and her crew 187 yards away. They walk to a road and onto another property and begin calling to the rest of the herd. That’s where my previous post left off. I’m in a perfect spot between the two groups watching em meander back and forth a mere 88 yards away but neither will come my way. When I lose sight of the smaller and closer group I give chase only to run into a fence. Oh those fences! Text Mike and we regroup.

Now Mike has developed a sixth sense about elk and suggests we drive the road deeper back and park. We have been walking a flat spot for about 12 minutes when he points to a track. That’s fresh Bruce. Thus began our tracking and I am thankful feed is everywhere because the elk are pooping like a person before a colonoscopy. Fresh, fresher, recently airborne…I can see the difference. Elk dropping so fresh they are still melting onto a rock. We arrive to a place loaded with tracks; a squashed plant Mike calls Indian buttwipe. “Here’s where they bedded, they like to sit on this stuff,” says Mike. We keep moving further and deeper into the public lands…no FN fences here. Up, down, up down…the miles click by. After a couple of hours my boots feel like lead. I am starting to lose focus and am hot and thirsty. We take a break to rest. Mike makes it clear that we are on the right track and must keep moving so we do.

Thirty minutes later, at the top of yet another hill and just outside some of the densest, darkest timber we’ve seen yet we spot a lone cow. She looks at us takes off. Ya know that scene in Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid where they look back at the posse chasing em and say, “Who are those guys? They can’t follow us over rocks can they? Who are those guys?”

Well that’s how this felt. That cow knew she was being tracked. Tried to cut her off but a spooked elk is a quick elk. The anchors that were my boots disappear and I am all nimble and fired up again which is good since we have traveled 7.6 miles and it’s gonna be that far back to the truck. After that all we saw was deer and small game but the lessons I learned on that hike will serve me forever. Now I finally now how it’s done.

That was the last elk we saw. We covered many miles at the end…drove to many places, called for nothing and kept moving. Wherever they went, we couldn’t go. I imagined them sitting on someone’s porch laughing about us. Tag soup for a second year. Funny thing is…I’m not bummed. I had a helluva time, was into elk left and right and well within 100 yards repeatedly…I just never got to full draw. That first week sucked my enthusiasm big time…Mike taught me not to hunt on foot until you know you’re into elk. I know, seems obvious now but I spent a week pounding the ground without seeing or hearing an elk. So I am completely addicted and there’s no going back.

Some random memories (in no particular order) that stuck in my head in the final week.

I can sit perfectly still in the dimming light ready to draw with bugs flying around and will them away from me until the Thermacel warms up.

Fresh elk urine smells like a plant until someone tells you otherwise.

When you can hear your heartbeat…you have got to slow down.

You can never keep track of all the eyes on you…some dumb luck never hurts.

When more experienced guys tell you to travel fast and light, listen to em! I started out with a DT1 and all kinds of stuff. I ended up wearing a hip or small day pack with water, snacks, GPS, phone, RF, wind checker and hydration pack. The kill kit and other stuff remained in the truck. I added a chair, Thermacel and jacket for evening hunts. Ya don’t need the other stuff till you fire your bow.

Go light and add miles to your hunt.

There are 3300 miles of closed roads in Unit 8 alone (thanks Obama) and nobody in Arizona enforces the closures.

When that little voice in your head says STOP! Well stop and look around. Even when driving. I found a lot of game this way.

Once you see big elk, ya stop thinking about the new paint job your truck got and blast thru mud and bushes to get to em like a crazed person (or maybe that’s just me). I had to refill the washer fluid because of the waves of mud and water that cover the vehicle from top to bottom…it actually looks like a hunting truck now.

A good hunting buddy is invaluable but not always present.

Placing a Heads Up decoy behind the backseat of your truck so it appears to looking at the drivers behind you will get nods of approval….and disgust. <g>

Paying attention to details and taking in the view ahead of you is almost as important as paying attention to the details of the view behind you. Being able to recognize landmarks and unique structures, water, trees and rocks for your return makes your GPS almost unnecessary.

Cameras are a complete distraction until you shoot an elk.

Once the elk bug has bitten you…you forget about all the things you used to worry about in the woods. The only word that comes close to describing it is obsession.

I am feeling pretty beat up, have aches and pains in places I have never had before and don’t care one bit. I’ll gettum next time. For me 2014 was a great hunting year. Best yet!!!

Special thanks to all those who joined me and others who provided tips, locations and details that made this hunt so special. I owe you!!!

 

[Bubblehide]

Bruce, it sounds like you were in them thick; way to keep after them! Just wish I was there.

 

[JustGuy]

It sounds like your new knee brace helped a bit.
Great story. It is the best, reminds me of my bear hunting

 

[dustin ray]

Cool story bruce sounds like you had a great trip would you go back to that unit?

 

[Deleted member 33033]

Cool story bruce sounds like you had a great trip would you go back to that unit?

In a heartbeat. Beautiful area and the weather was great. Never saw a snake! LOL I am actually looking at properties around Flagstaff...love it that much!

 

[dustin ray]

In a heartbeat. Beautiful area and the weather was great. Never saw a snake! LOL I am actually looking at properties around Flagstaff...love it that much!

Ya same here iv been looking for properties Flagstaff to Williams im heading up to unit 9 in oct. cow tag

 

[goldenarrow49]

Sounds like a fun hunt. I am planning on going elk hunting next year for the first time and I just hope I get the chance to see some.

 

[warren nelson]

Great story and sound like a better hunt. A place around Flag would be great.

 

[Deleted member 33033]

Only concern is that the areas I can afford that would allow me to hunt don't have water, it's gotta be hauled. Arrggg.