The Monarch – Part 2

My watch woke me at 6:00.  We had survived another night camped on the edge of some serious bear country.  We begrudgingly crawled out of our warm sleeping bags and stepped into the crisp morning air.  We quickly packed up camp and headed north up the dark logging road.  We were again headed to a new location, situated below the ridge we had hunted only one day earlier.  Just as the sun began to creep through the tree tops we slipped into a good location to call.

We called for 20 minutes.  Nothing.  It seemed as if the elk were ghosts.  Leaving us sign but never seeming to show themselves.  We moved up through a ridge full of the regular downfall.

We worked slowly and patiently, knowing a bull could be lurking anywhere in the dark timber.  We called again with no success.  We tried cow calls, bugles, raking, and a combination of all three at times.  The elk were just being stubborn, or at least that’s what I’d like to think.

We continued on undeterred.  We were constantly reminded of the bulls that roamed and call these thick mountains home.  Rubs would crop up out of the blur of grey trees, and often in the most dense areas.  This only served to fuel the fire further.

We pushed on and stuck to the game plan.  Sneaking through the woods as quietly as possible and calling in any area that seemed good.

Over the course of this trip we were thoroughly impressed with the Open Country pattern on this trip.  While one might not think that a lighter patter would be ideal for the dark timber, the pattern actually blended with the woods amazingly well.  Let’s just say if an elk came in it wasn’t going to be seeing us.

As we neared the truck that morning it was beginning to set in.  We were running out of time and we needed to find an elk.  When half your time is running the camera your season is cut in half, and Travis and I needed to seal the deal soon.  We had worked hard and knew it could only be a matter of time.  Just keep a positive mindset and keep pounding away.  As Cameron Hanes would put it, “Go Beast Mode.”  We hung out at the truck and had lunch, contemplating the options for the evening.  As we sat and talked we began talking about a water source.  In the two years we had hunted here, we had never found a creek, wallow, or seep.  We knew the elk had to drink somewhere, and we decided to check out a small pond back down the road.  It’s easy to access and I figured wouldn’t hold any promise.  Well I was wrong.  After some inspection we found some quality sign around the pond.  Nothing to amazingly fresh, but we knew they’d be back sometime.  We continued to walk the waterline and found a natural blind another hunter had created.  I knew it was there for a reason and shortly after I found why it was there.  There was a heavily used wallow that had been carved into the ground almost three feet from years of use.

The only real fresh sign were a few sets of bear tracks.  I still had my bear tag and a good feeling began to make it’s way into the depths of my brain.  We got back into the truck and decided to quickly head to a new area and make a final decision for the night around 3PM.  After a few hours of exploration we had yet to uncover anything too mind blowing and relied on our instincts.  Travis and I both had a good feeling about the wallow, and with our knees sore from the constant climbing over and through deadfall we decided to go back and spend the final evening sitting in the natural blind on the edge of the treeline.  I’m not usually one to sit in place for long, but I knew our chances were better here than busting brush all night.  We threw on new layers and walked the 400 yards from the truck to our natural ground blind.  We setup and settled in for a patient evening.

As we sat I wondered about the hunter who had made this blind.  Was it meant to be that we found it?  Did he already shoot an elk from here or had he made it and was looking to come back to it at another time?  I said a prayer and leaned up against the log as Travis and I waited and listened.  After about thirty minutes I decided to lay down.  Sitting in one spot usually isn’t my thing, and I can get very sleepy staring at the same piece of real estate for too long.

Soon I felt like I should man up and be ready for anything.  This was our last night and I needed to be in the best position to have my bow in hand if something did sneak in.  I got back up and waited.  I’m glad I did because twenty minutes later Travis told me he heard something walking our way.  He always seems to hear things before me, and I got my bow in hand and waited.  Sure enough the sound was unmistakable, an elk was making his way through the tight trees and headed for the pond.  Soon I could see a chocolate set of antlers peeking through the limbs.  He was getting close and the adrenaline hit hard.  I hoped our wind was good and got into my shooting position.  He was on a path that would bring him very close to us.  As he finished his way through the tight trees he soon closed to twenty yards.  When he made his way behind the last set of trees, I drew my Bear Anarchy.  He stepped out at 8 yards and stopped.  At this point I could only see his head and half of his huge neck.  Travis had a full view of him only a few feet to the right of me.  I was nervous as the bull waited and listened.  Moments later a squirrel began chirping 100 yards behind us.  The bulls head swung instantly, inspecting the area.  He wasn’t looking directly at us but soon turned his head and stared at the two of us, sitting dead still staring back at him.  With his ears alert I figured a mature bull like this would bust and I’d never get a shot.  Well he didn’t.  He looked right through both of us, and I know that our camo served its purpose.  He didn’t see us as humans.  He slowly turned and began walking towards the wallow.  At this point I’d been at full draw for a minute.  Between holding my bow back and the adrenaline, I was beginning to shake.  He slowly walked away, only giving me a Texas heart shot.  I waited.  He neared the wallow, taking one slow step at a time.  Soon he turned broadside with his front leg back.  My pins were shaking all over even though he was 30 yards away.  It had been almost two minutes now and I was on the verge of letting my bow down.  I took one last deep breath, and as he stepped forward with his right leg I released my arrow.  It was a hard hit behind the shoulder.  He instantly bucked and went screaming into the timber.  I could see the blood instantly coming from his right side as he ran off, and I knew that he wouldn’t make it far.  I could hear him crash up onto the road.  He ran down the road and then there was a loud crash followed by silence.  I sat and listened.  Nothing.  He had to be down.  Travis and I decided to give him thirty minutes just to be safe.

We grabbed our packs and slipped out into the golden meadow.  As we neared the wallow we could see where he had stood when I shot him.  A few short feet later the blood trail began.  It wasn’t huge, but enough to follow easily.

We slowly made our way into the timber and soon found my arrow, covered in rich red blood and broken off just behind the broadhead.

I slipped the arrow back into my quiver knowing it would only be a few minutes before I laid hands on my second elk.  We made it up to the road and followed his tracks down the side of the gravel logging road.  The blood had been covered by a truck that had passed earlier leaving us only his hoof prints.  We soon began looking for blood where he had crashed off the side of the road.  That’s when I saw those white tips just over the weeds on the side of the road.

I couldn’t believe it.  After 120+ miles this year and hunting through some of the gnarliest deadfall imaginable, my bull was laying only 20 feet from the road.  It was ironic but also a blessing as he was truly one of the largest bodied elk I’d seen.

He had wedged himself in a very interesting spot.  His rear half was on top of a rock and wedged against a tree.  His front half was about to slide under a downed log just behind him.  They just don’t always fall in the best spots as this year has shown us, but I couldn’t care, my #1 goal for the year was complete.

The character and the mass on this bull was also truly awesome.  His left side held incredible mass throughout.  His third tine was palamated and thick.  The right side also had good mass but only held three points.  Along with that he either had lost his brow tine or G-2 over the years as he had one set of tines protruding from his forehead.  I figured with the huge body, heavy mass, and a degenerated right side that this was an old monarch of a bull.  A true king of his domain.

I couldn’t believe it, after so much hard work it was the most simple of tactics that paid off.  It truly goes to show you that you can make elk hunting as complex or as simple as you’d like and still be successful.  This bull had lived a long life.  He had survived many winters, avoided numerous predators, and kept his distance from many hunters, only to be killed in the most simple of setups.  I later had him aged by a biologist, and he was estimated to be 9 or 10 years old.  I’m extremely blessed to have harvested such a beautiful, old bull in only my third season of chasing elk.  He’s going to be tough to top next year.

Not only was I able to harvest an elk, but I was able to do so with my brother by my side.  A guy just can’t ask for much more.  It’s a memory that will last a lifetime for both of us, and Travis was able to beautifully capture the whole hunt on film.  We’re really excited to share the footage here in the future as it’s by far the best elk footage we’ve captured in our short two years of filming our hunts.

Once we had taken some photos we began the process of determining what to do with him.  If we cut him up as he lay he would slip down under the deadfall below him and it would be miserable to attempt to cut him up.  We drove up the road and got service.  We called our dad and told him the good news.  We told him of the situation and asked him if he could bring a chainsaw and a tow rope up the mountain and help us pull the beast from his final resting place.  After an hour and plenty of time to relive hunt he showed up.  Smiles were had by all, and then the work began.  The tow rope barely made it to the elk.  We tied it up to both rear legs and cleared some small trees.  The diesel quickly pulled the 700-800 pound elk up to the side of the road.

God truly answered my prayers on this night.  We shot an awesome elk, on film, and didn’t have to spend at least 12+ hours packing him out of the jungle.  Not only that but my brother was there for the hunt, and my Dad made it up to see my bull in one piece this year.  I’m truly excited for the future and all the amazing things that lay ahead of us out there in God’s country.

I also found a few thing interesting about my hunt this year compared to last.  Last year I shot my bull on my first day hunting the mountains of Western Montana after hunting the Missouri Breaks.  This year I shot my bull on my first full day back in the mountains after 5 days in the Breaks.  Last year I ambushed my elk at 40 yards from my knees.  This year I ambushed my elk from 30 yards off my knees.  Last year I shot my elk quartering away, and he ran and looped left only making it about a hundred yards before he took his last breath.  This year I also shot my elk quartering away and he also made about a hundred yard loop to his left before crashing.  Nothing too crazy but definitely an interesting comparison of the two seasons.

Thanks for reading my story.  This is a post that I look forward to writing each year, and I can’t wait till 2013.  So far it’s been a truly awesome season.  We helped my good friend Tyler McCann kill his first bull this year, and I was able to take a great elk also.  Now it’s Travis’ turn, and we’ll be working hard to get him a bull before archery season is over.

-Zack

October 4, 2012 | Categories: 2012, hunting | Tags: 2012, archery, bear archery, bowhunting, bull, elk, film, hunting, montana wild, MT, sitka gear, video, Vortex Optics, wallow | 10 Comments »