Look folks, this is a 23 year old man, not a kid in the kid sense. I call him a kid because he went to High School with our oldest, so to me he is a kid. For the record, I hunted with him after he spooked away the 7x7 for another day. I don't know how to explain this. When you call in a bull, and somebody wounds it, you feel as responsible for wounding it as the shooter, well at least I do. It ruined the hunt, and I really didn't feel like calling in an elk for somebody I know can't make an 18 yard shot. It knawed on me thru camp. I also had to make sure he wasn't in position to do it again, all the while pretending to be trying to get an elk in front of him. Anyway, I have had the comforts of home and the trail dust washed off and I feel better. I am going back in with my regular partner on thursday, but I know I had some opportunities that will probably not come again. For the clowns who think my anger is about not getting a shot at the 7x7, you are nuts. You know nothing about me and this hunt has nothing to do with getting a shot at this bull or that bull. I have paid my dues, via trial and error for many seasons in the elk woods. I learned about elk, back pack hunting, meat preservation, calling etc on my own in the woods. I would have killed to have the chance to go on a hunt like this at age 23. This kid had a chance to by-pass 20 years of learning and skip right into advanced elk hunting, I think he should have taken it more seriously. Finally, I will be 40 in a few weeks, how many more years will I be able to do this? I would like to pass this on to him, and hopefully when our oldest gets back from Iraq, he can join us and eventually it can be their spot and their hunt. I havn't completely given up on this kid, I just want him to understand that wounding elk is a worse case scenerio that sours a hunt.
I leave this on a positive note: This was, without a doubt, one of the most incredible hunts I have been a part of. I saw several elk and several big bulls all roaming about the mountain and receptive to calling. Having that big boy standing next to me was the single greatest thrill of my life on the mountain, it was intense. I could hear him breathing, and chirping to that little calf. What a trio, a 7x7, a forked horn, and a calf.
