It was the last day of my archery elk hunt. I had stumbled upon a herd and spent the next 2 hours manuvering into position for a shot. I had lost my call earlier that day, soI had torely on nothing but stealth and luck for a shotoppertunity.
The herd wondered thrusomehigh alpine pines, allowing me to follow, skirting from tree to tree for cover. Thetrees opened up to a hugeopen area on the mountainside, withnothing more than sagebrush and rocks to hide behind.7 small bulls were on my left,with one spike in archery range.About 30 cows were on my right, with one calf only about 10 yards from my hidden position. I was about to draw on the spike, when I noticed the big herd bull. A beautiful6X6.Antler fever took over, andI focusedin on the bruiser.
I slowly manuvered into a better position by crawling over the rocks and between the sparse sagebrush. The whole timeI had to check the calf and spike, and move only when they went tofeed. My final spotI was within 20 yardsof the spike,and settled in for a shot at the herd bull. He kept his distancefrom me, running himself ragged between keeping his herd together and keeping check on the lesser bulls. The whole scene was increadible, and gave me huge insite to herd activity. Light was fading fast, and the other bulls moved off further down the ridge.
I then heard the distant call of one of the cows on the other side ofthe ridge. The herd bull immediately trotted off in her direction, followed by the cows. With the sun now down, I sprang from my hiding place, and raced down the ridge, hearing the elk on the other side. I ended up below them, and startedover the ridge.
Istopped behind a large pine and could hear them above me. I checked my sites, and the light had faded enough that my pins were loosing thier glow.It was now or never.
I stepped out from the tree and came face to face with the herd bull at about 30 yards. We both look as surprised as the other. Me, that he was closer than I thought, and him wondering what the heck that weird moving bush was. We stood there for what seemed like forever, waiting for one or the other to move. I finally looked down and saw that my sites had no illumination. The light was gone, the hunt was over, the Bull won.
I raised my arms and let out a huge yell! AAAWWWWWWWGGGGGGGG! The bull trotted up the hill. I took out my flashlight and made my way of the mountain, all the while hearing the echo of that bulls bugle trailing off behind me.
I returned 2 months later for a late season spike elk rifle hunt. At nearly the same spot we left each other, I ran into a single 6X6 bull.I do not know if it was the same bull. We just exchanged greetings and he moved off into the thick timber. I took my spike 2 days later, but that archery experience still sends shivers thru my spine.