A few months ago soem friends convinced me to go to Colorado on an archery Elk hunt. Since I have been wanting to go for a while but never did the research, it dindt take much arm twisting and I was in. We arrived to the camp site (near Montrose) Friday morning at 2 a.m., set up the tents and went to sleep for a few hours. After heading to Montrose for liscence and supplies we were able to do a little scouting before dark. 15 minutes into my scouting, I saw 2 cows, a 5 X 5 and another big bull but didnt get a good look since they were running off by then. I then decided to head back to camp and wait until opening day to continue my scouting with bow in hand.
Day 1: At sunrise, I was setup near the location I saw the four elk the previous day. 3 hour later I gave in and started scouting. Shortly after lunch, I spooked an elk and it snorted at me several times before vacting the area. Got back to my moring spot at 4 pm and several animals ran off as I was walking in.
Day 2: At sunrise, I was setup in the same location as the day before with the same results. Mid-morning, I headed back to where I had been snorted at the day before. This time, I approached from UP wind in hopes that the animal would slip out and give me a chance to thoroughly check out the area. When I got to the place, I discovered several large beds, numerous rubs, and piles of droppings. At 2 pm I headed back to the morning location, again I spooked off several elk as I walked in.
Day 3: I headed for the bedding area well before daylight. On this approach, I went 1/2 mile downwind before crossing the ridge then woked my way up the backside. I finally arrived at the bedding area about an hour after daylight but had not spooked anything as far as I could tell. I set up against a spruce tree, 15 yards from the cluster of beds. At 7:45, I heard him cross the ridge top and start workign his way towards the bedding area. A few minutes later I finally see him at about 100 yards and immediately new he was a shooter. At 50 yards he stopped broadside, I drew and then decided tat it was not the shot I wanted and I would give a few more yards to turn towards the beds before I tried a longer shot. 2 steps later he turned and began quartering towards me. At 21 yards and very near broadside, I drew, located my pin for a lung shot and released. "TWANGGGGG" as I burried my broadhead into a small spruce I had never noticed. The bull never flinched and continued working his way towards the bed. I nocked another arrow and began to draw back as he crossed a 15 foot wide old road at 18 yards. My knock pulled out of the arrow and I had to let down. Thanks to the wisker biscuit, the arrow didnt fall to the ground. I placed the nock back in the arrow. By this time the bull was at 14 yards and I was beyond rattled. As I came to full draw, the bull was stopped and looking dead at me. I placed my pin on the lungs and released. A fatal hit but fartehr back than where I had intended. I guess I was shaking to much. I gave the bull 2 hours before I began tracking. After only 150 yards, I lost blood and called in the rest of my hunting group. 4 hours later we had not gained another inch on the trail. They all left for there evening hunt and I continued until dark with no luck.
Day 4: Depressed, hunted fro downed bull all day with no luck.
Day 5: Misserable, continued to luck for bull. At 9 am one my hunting budies called me on the radio to me he had found my bull. I was estatic and ran back to camp. The bull had ran to within about 150 yards of a road and he had marked it on his GPS. We drove around the road to get as close as we could. I ran down the hill and to the bull. He looked much smaller laying there but I had found him, a nice 5 X 5. A few pictures and screams later, I decided to roll the bull over to see where I had hit him. As I rolled him over, I saw the arrow sticking out. The arrow was just behind the lung but it was not mine. We had found someone elses bull. Talk about falling off the earth into a pit. I mustered up enough energy to walk back to the truck with the arrow in hand. I headed down the road to check with a few of the other campers. The first camp I came to had shot a bull Monday moring as well and lost it. I asked to see the an arrow liked the one it was shot with. A perfect match. As I shoed them where the bull was at, the other hunter pointed to a tree with ribbon on it as the location where he had lost the blood trail on Monday. He had gotten within 100 yards of the bull. I spent the evening in camp and wasnt sure I would go back out the rest of the week.
Day 6: I had been woken by coyotes at 3 am. At daylight, I decided to search that area even though it was the opposite direction that the bull had ran. As I got near the location, I heard the crows and ravens. A few steps later, I saw a buzzard and got the smell of something rotten. 100 yards later, I walked up on MY bull. A near 300 inch 6 X 6 but he had broken off the last two points on the right side after I shot him. I called the game warden office an they sent someone out. He inspected my bull, voided my tag and allowed me to remove the head.
I spent the remainder of that day and the next looking for the broke horn with no luck.
