Modocer
Well-known member
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2001
- Messages
- 700
- Reaction score
- 9
My father-in-law invited me to go elk hunting with him this year. We hunted in NW Colorado - between Craig, CO and Vernal, UT, on a private ranch. We left home on Oct 29, and arrived there the next day. Since I had a ranching for wildlife tag (similar to CA's PLM program), I was able to start hunting the minute we arrived.
On the first day of hunting, the first elk that I saw was a small spike laying under a tree about 10 feet infront of me. I knew then that this was not going to be like hunting mulies here on the Modoc. The weather was cold and stormy - perfect for hunting elk, I was told, sure to bring the elk down from the high country. We saw 34 elk the first day - all cows and spikes. Although, I was able to kill a cow or a spike, I was waiting for a branched bull. The first and second day consisted mostly of touring the 30,000 acre ranch. The second day we only saw 4 elk. The third day, we drove to the far back side of the ranch where we stopped and glassed the elk entering the property. The elk were really moving through the canyons via their migration routes. We also saw 3 monster bulls, but they were on the nieghbors property. The sheep herder then appeared on the scene and scared away the bullls and the rest of the elk (that reinforced why I hate sheep
). We could see the bulls about 3/4 of a mile away, and all we could do was drool. All in all, we saw 44 elk that day.
The fourth day turned out to be my lucky day - I even decided to take my digital camera with me that day. We decided that since we were seeing the elk on the back side of the ranch, that we should probably go back there again. We decided to make a big circle in this area so that we could cover some of the canyons that we couldn't see from our vantage point. Before we got there, we crossed 2 bull tracks going the opposite direction than we were headed. We followed these tracks for about 1.5 miles before deciding that we were not going to be able to catch up to these fast traveling bulls. On the way back to the pick-up, we decided to hike up along the property boundary fence to see if anything had crossed through.
Suddenly, my father-in-law said, "There they are." I looked up and there were 36 elk, including one branched bull, staring at us from across a small ravine. We were in the great-wide open, and there was no place to hide. The elk spotted us and I thought the hunt was over. They started to run parallel to the fence - directly away from us. Just then, my father-in-law grabbed his cow call, let out a squeak, and the elk stopped dead in their track, turned to look at us as if recignizing us as another elk, they started walking. As soon as the elk dropped over the ridge out of sight, we hurried and got back behind the ridge, so that they couldn't see us, but where we could follow them. The elk followed the fence line for about 1/4 mile before jumping the fence and entering the ranch we were hunting on. By this time they were in a deep draw and as they moved up the bottom of the draw, we were able to stay on top of the ridge and parallel them. We followed them for about 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile. As we were following them, I was getting so nervous. We would periodically stop and glass the elk. I was shaking so bad that I was having a hard time focusing on the bull through my shaking binoculars. Finally the elk stopped and started milling around a small stock pond. Some of the cows laid down and I knew this was where I would kill my first elk - oh, if the shaking would only stop.
Because I had never killed an elk before, my father-in-law wanted me to take this one. As we creeped over the ridge, my father-in-law used his range finder and determined that the elk were about 360+ yards away. Since they had no idea that we were there, we decided to sneak down the hill for a better shot. We crawled on our hands and knees through the snow and sagebrush. I removed the glove from my trigger hand - just in case I needed to shoot quickly, so I had one gloved hand, and one bare hand. I was still shaking and my father-in-law, having done this numerous times before, just kept laughing at me. We crawled about 30 yards down the hill, and decided that was far enough to go without scaring the elk. I sat down and prepared for my shot. Yes, I was so excited, that I had trouble setting up shooting sticks. Finally, I got situated and glassed the herd one final time to make sure where the bull was. I then prayed that God would give me a steady hand. When I finally saw the bull, to my surprise, he had stepped out away from the herd. I thought, "This is it." I raised my gun, clicked off the safety, set the cross hair on the shoulder and on the top of his back, held my breath and squeezed. BOOM! My father-in-law heard a thwap, but the bull showed no response. Being used to hunting deer, I was expecting the bull to hump and bolt, but nothing. The bull casually walked down the hill about 10 yards, as I loaded the second shell. I again aimed and pulled the trigger. Again, no response. I then loaded a third shell and thought to myself that maybe the bullets are falling faster than I thought, so this time I aimed higher on the bull. I pulled the trigger and my father-in-law immediately told me that I shot over him. My response, "Damn, I must have shot over him on all three shots." Just as I was preparing for my fourth shot, the bull staggered and fell. I finally drew in a breath of air. At this point in time, the shakes got worse, and I became a big blubbering pile of giggles and farts!!!!
The final distance was 336 yards.
After watching the bull for a few minutes to confirm death, we hiked down the hill to him. The rest of the herd ran off about 200 yards and stopped and watched. When we finally got a good look at the bull, he was a 3x4, with the brow tine broken off on the 3 side. The tines were long and had a spread of 32 and a height of 36. The bulls body size was what was most impressive - about 650-700 lbs. Pictures will be posted at a later date.
This was truely a wonderful hunt - I will remember it for the rest of my life.
For all those fo you who are interested, I was shooting a Remington model 700, 30-06. I was shooting a 165 spitzer boat-tail loaded with 56.5 grains of 4350 powder and CCI 200 primers.
On the first day of hunting, the first elk that I saw was a small spike laying under a tree about 10 feet infront of me. I knew then that this was not going to be like hunting mulies here on the Modoc. The weather was cold and stormy - perfect for hunting elk, I was told, sure to bring the elk down from the high country. We saw 34 elk the first day - all cows and spikes. Although, I was able to kill a cow or a spike, I was waiting for a branched bull. The first and second day consisted mostly of touring the 30,000 acre ranch. The second day we only saw 4 elk. The third day, we drove to the far back side of the ranch where we stopped and glassed the elk entering the property. The elk were really moving through the canyons via their migration routes. We also saw 3 monster bulls, but they were on the nieghbors property. The sheep herder then appeared on the scene and scared away the bullls and the rest of the elk (that reinforced why I hate sheep
The fourth day turned out to be my lucky day - I even decided to take my digital camera with me that day. We decided that since we were seeing the elk on the back side of the ranch, that we should probably go back there again. We decided to make a big circle in this area so that we could cover some of the canyons that we couldn't see from our vantage point. Before we got there, we crossed 2 bull tracks going the opposite direction than we were headed. We followed these tracks for about 1.5 miles before deciding that we were not going to be able to catch up to these fast traveling bulls. On the way back to the pick-up, we decided to hike up along the property boundary fence to see if anything had crossed through.
Suddenly, my father-in-law said, "There they are." I looked up and there were 36 elk, including one branched bull, staring at us from across a small ravine. We were in the great-wide open, and there was no place to hide. The elk spotted us and I thought the hunt was over. They started to run parallel to the fence - directly away from us. Just then, my father-in-law grabbed his cow call, let out a squeak, and the elk stopped dead in their track, turned to look at us as if recignizing us as another elk, they started walking. As soon as the elk dropped over the ridge out of sight, we hurried and got back behind the ridge, so that they couldn't see us, but where we could follow them. The elk followed the fence line for about 1/4 mile before jumping the fence and entering the ranch we were hunting on. By this time they were in a deep draw and as they moved up the bottom of the draw, we were able to stay on top of the ridge and parallel them. We followed them for about 1/2 to 3/4 of a mile. As we were following them, I was getting so nervous. We would periodically stop and glass the elk. I was shaking so bad that I was having a hard time focusing on the bull through my shaking binoculars. Finally the elk stopped and started milling around a small stock pond. Some of the cows laid down and I knew this was where I would kill my first elk - oh, if the shaking would only stop.
Because I had never killed an elk before, my father-in-law wanted me to take this one. As we creeped over the ridge, my father-in-law used his range finder and determined that the elk were about 360+ yards away. Since they had no idea that we were there, we decided to sneak down the hill for a better shot. We crawled on our hands and knees through the snow and sagebrush. I removed the glove from my trigger hand - just in case I needed to shoot quickly, so I had one gloved hand, and one bare hand. I was still shaking and my father-in-law, having done this numerous times before, just kept laughing at me. We crawled about 30 yards down the hill, and decided that was far enough to go without scaring the elk. I sat down and prepared for my shot. Yes, I was so excited, that I had trouble setting up shooting sticks. Finally, I got situated and glassed the herd one final time to make sure where the bull was. I then prayed that God would give me a steady hand. When I finally saw the bull, to my surprise, he had stepped out away from the herd. I thought, "This is it." I raised my gun, clicked off the safety, set the cross hair on the shoulder and on the top of his back, held my breath and squeezed. BOOM! My father-in-law heard a thwap, but the bull showed no response. Being used to hunting deer, I was expecting the bull to hump and bolt, but nothing. The bull casually walked down the hill about 10 yards, as I loaded the second shell. I again aimed and pulled the trigger. Again, no response. I then loaded a third shell and thought to myself that maybe the bullets are falling faster than I thought, so this time I aimed higher on the bull. I pulled the trigger and my father-in-law immediately told me that I shot over him. My response, "Damn, I must have shot over him on all three shots." Just as I was preparing for my fourth shot, the bull staggered and fell. I finally drew in a breath of air. At this point in time, the shakes got worse, and I became a big blubbering pile of giggles and farts!!!!
After watching the bull for a few minutes to confirm death, we hiked down the hill to him. The rest of the herd ran off about 200 yards and stopped and watched. When we finally got a good look at the bull, he was a 3x4, with the brow tine broken off on the 3 side. The tines were long and had a spread of 32 and a height of 36. The bulls body size was what was most impressive - about 650-700 lbs. Pictures will be posted at a later date.
This was truely a wonderful hunt - I will remember it for the rest of my life.
For all those fo you who are interested, I was shooting a Remington model 700, 30-06. I was shooting a 165 spitzer boat-tail loaded with 56.5 grains of 4350 powder and CCI 200 primers.
