I have another story but it is not a muzzleloader hunt. Please forgive me but I would like to tell this story about my Uncle Jim.
My uncle was in WWII he was a sub vet and came back with what many would call PTSD. He went on to be a successful farmer and business man. He was a Hunter down deep and was so every day of his life.
I didn't get to know him until my Mom and Dad died. He was 82 in 2005 when we became acquainted. We were best friends right off the bat. In 2010 He told me he wanted to hunt elk again one last time. I was honored he asked me to help him.
The next year I put him in for a elk hunt that I knew I would get him into some elk. But he didn't draw. I was sure that was it for that chance. Then I got a call from a rancher. He told me he had heard I was trying to get an elk tag for a WWII vet. I said yes I am. He said it would be an honor for me to give him my cow tag. Oh boy it was on!!!
A huge herd of elk lived in the area I was planning to hunt. The problem was they are mostly bulls on winter range. This hunt was in December and Uncle Jim was 88 years old. We had to be able to go out and come back home at night. He was having some health issues so we were all worried.
I took him out to sight in his rifle. He has macular degeneration and he has a hard time seeing. But if you turn the magnification WAY up it shrinks the black spot in the center of the eye sight. So the scope that was always set to 3 power was set to 9 and he could see pretty well.
He showed up at the house and we spent the night talking about WWII. He has loosened up a lot in the last few years and I am getting more stories. We turned in way too late, we would have to leave early to make the 4 hour drive into the desert on a two track road.
Shortly after daylight I found a herd of elk.
Every one of them was a bull.
Bull after bull we saw more and more bulls. We counted 83 bulls and I think Uncle Jim was not believing me. Then just before dark I found the big bunch. There was over 300 head in one herd.
We made our way to them with the truck. He had a permit to shoot from the truck. He had never shot an animal from the seat of a truck. I am sure it was somewhat a disappointment that his health was poor enough he had to but his desire for his last elk made him. We were stunned at all the elk he saw. He had never seen a herd bigger than about 20 animals. I don't think he had ever seen that many elk in a day in his whole life.
I was able to get the truck to a spot and parked it. The elk spooked and were heading out. The problem was I had them pinned between a steep canyon wall and the truck. They had to pass the truck, and a rifleman with a pre 64 winchester 270.
He asked me which one to take. it was tough to tell him they were packed together. I said the last one is a cow wait for her.
I was looking through the binoculars when the roar of the Winchester filled my ears. The cow was running hard. Something happened that I never expected. My eyes get teary as I heard the Winchester roar, then she roared again. The cow was down! I could not believe what had just happened. My frail old Uncle, my hero, the man I had always looked up to as being the best hunter my dad said had ever lived, just killed an elk in front of me. She was on the run!
Damn you got her uncle Jim!!!!
I drove him up to her. The first order of business was to tag her, Then I wanted pictures. I wish I would have had time to spend more time taking pictures. But I had told my family to come looking if we were not home by 9:00pm. We were going to be late. I would have to gut and load this elk by my self. He was not strong enough to help much. So I got to work and got her broke down and loaded. We got to phone range and I was able to make sure they knew I was coming in with him, and an elk. My Aunt was stunned. His Daughter was stunned. I was stunned!
The next day we all got together and boned her out and cut and wrapped. If we left her hang she would have frozen. It was late in the afternoon when I got done. I was pooped. I told My Aunt the story and I teared up again when I recalled to her the sound of the Winchester.
The Winchester had given an old man the strength to take his last elk. The old Winchester in the hands of the rifleman. I can barely write this now 4 years later. He said it was the funnest elk hunt he had ever had in his life. He said he thought was was foolin him about the bulls.
In his prime he guided many of my cousins to their first elk in the wilderness of Central Idaho. I always wanted to be invited but never was. The reason was we didn't know each other. He told me he regretted not getting the chance to take me to the "camp". But he enjoyed me guiding him.
I went to see him today 10-31-2015. My son and I had to hold him up a little to get a picture. He has been in the hospital several days this year. I have slept in his room and in my camper in the parking lot of the hospital. My uncle Jim is dying and at 92 he is still clinging on to life. Earlier this year he had a stroke. The Nurse asked him Jim, do you know why your here? He said I guess I lost my grip on life. How profound is that statement?
I didn't get to spend as much time fishing this year as I have before. I didn't spend as much time hunting. But the time I have spent with him has been priceless. I took him some deer and Antelope meat today. We took pictures and told stories. This story was one of them. Thank you for reading it. As I finish I can hear the Winchester.
