MountainmanZ
New member
- Joined
- Jun 26, 2016
- Messages
- 17
As hunters I think one of the major injustices we do ourselves is not sharing the story / context behind a hunt, or not supplying some helpful content. I've been swamped with work and cutting meat, but I'd like to share a little more of the story, without it getting too long (oops)!
So.... to spite the short season, I feel I did plenty to earn this one! Scouting trips, poring over maps over and over, confirming thoughts with friends willing to share their input all lead up to this season's success. I estimate I put on 36 hard miles in a short amount of time, hiking through the thickest dead-fall I have ever faced, bombing into deep drainages after elk, crawling up steep shoots, being on the verge of dehydration, avoiding grizzlies, encountering wolves at 20 yards, much of the time solo.
This opportunity could easily have been blown, but both patience and persistence in the right combination paid off. It had already been an exhausting trip. I had consumed almost five gallons of water in the couple days I'd been on the mountain.
FAST FORWARD to when I find myself face to face with this awesome animal. I was kneeling in front of some cover. As I drew my bow the bull paused behind some trees. I was surprised he'd caught the movement. I'd been here before, so I prepared for the aches that come from holding a bow at full draw for five minutes. Fortunately, the bull began to move again after only 30 seconds or so. I had taken position just off the trail, and wondered just how close this encounter might end up being! Luckily the bull stopped again at about six yards, facing right at me. As he was studying the odd ball of camo in front of him I found myself extremely focused as I held my pin dead-steady on a small area of his chest filled with arteries and veins leading into his vitals. I did not notice my heart attempting to pound out of my chest, which occurs sometimes. There were a couple small limbs keeping this from being a perfectly clean shot. I hoped the bull would take just one more step, but I judged it wasn't going to happen, so I concentrated hard on threading the arrow through the limbs and began applying pressure to the release.
In an instant the well tuned arrow completely disappeared into the chest of the bull. I still have a still-frame in my mind of the gush of blood that exploded from his chest as he turned to run. Graphic, I know, but I can't tell you the relief and reassurance this would bring me later as I sat waiting to track the bull. As the bull turned to his right to run he uprooted a 7' tall pine that was growing beside the trail, carrying it away in his rack!
I was dead cool during the shot, but then completely lost it as the bull disappeared into the timber. A wave of emotion bombarded me, and I hit the ground. It really is difficult to put into word. The intensity of what I felt. Like all the suffering, frustration, struggle, joy, accomplishment from past seasons gets balled up in your chest, and then the ball suddenly explodes! I can't do it justice.
After quivering on the ground like a fool for a couple of minutes I gave my hunting partner a big hug, probably cussed more than I should have, and babbled with emotion.
(This is getting long) As I approached the point of impact I could see the blood on the ground. I followed the trail for about five yards, ducked under some low branches, was looking at the blood spattered ground, when my hunting partner said, "Hold on." I glanced up, and 60 yards ahead I could see a light rump laying in the tall grass, along with one large beam sticking up in the air. This was cause for another celebration!
The blood trail to the elk was essentially a pink pathway that I could have felt myself along, let alone followed visually. Near the bull we came across an uprooted tree. Both of us were amazed, and glanced around for the hole it was plucked from. Suddenly it came back to me! That was the tree I'd seen in the bull's antlers as he disappeared out of sight! He ripped it out of the ground, and carried it 60 yards to where he'd fallen. I ran back to confirm the hole near the trail.
We got to work moving meat away from the carcass. I was already pretty beat before all of this unfolded, but the work had only begun! We crawled out of the drainage with our first load of meat around 2:00 am, and a much needed drink was in order.
I couldn't have asked for a prettier bull, but a rack isn't much of a trophy to me without a good story. A story that includes dedication, hard work, preparation, a clean harvest, and some adventure thrown in makes that rack on the wall even more special.
2017-elk-1 by Zach Even, on Flickr
The tree the bull uprooted, and carried 60 yards in his rack.
tree by Zach Even, on Flickr
My first glimpse of the bull!
first-look by Zach Even, on Flickr
The blood trail.
blood-trail by Zach Even, on Flickr
Pulling a 32" arrow that got full penetration on a frontal shot. It was quite a site to see the lighted nock appear from the chest cavity.
arrow by Zach Even, on Flickr
Grizzly tracks that shared my trail for two miles.
grizzly-track by Zach Even, on Flickr
No easy way out of here but straight through this.
deadfall by Zach Even, on Flickr
His seconds might be my favorite feature, but whale tales, and wide 4ths are cool too.
side-view by Zach Even, on Flickr
My very FIRST selfie. The high schoolers I teach can't believe I've never taken a selfie with my phone. I told them I was waiting for the right time.
First-Selfie by Zach Even, on Flickr
Trophy shot!
meat by Zach Even, on Flickr
So.... to spite the short season, I feel I did plenty to earn this one! Scouting trips, poring over maps over and over, confirming thoughts with friends willing to share their input all lead up to this season's success. I estimate I put on 36 hard miles in a short amount of time, hiking through the thickest dead-fall I have ever faced, bombing into deep drainages after elk, crawling up steep shoots, being on the verge of dehydration, avoiding grizzlies, encountering wolves at 20 yards, much of the time solo.
This opportunity could easily have been blown, but both patience and persistence in the right combination paid off. It had already been an exhausting trip. I had consumed almost five gallons of water in the couple days I'd been on the mountain.
FAST FORWARD to when I find myself face to face with this awesome animal. I was kneeling in front of some cover. As I drew my bow the bull paused behind some trees. I was surprised he'd caught the movement. I'd been here before, so I prepared for the aches that come from holding a bow at full draw for five minutes. Fortunately, the bull began to move again after only 30 seconds or so. I had taken position just off the trail, and wondered just how close this encounter might end up being! Luckily the bull stopped again at about six yards, facing right at me. As he was studying the odd ball of camo in front of him I found myself extremely focused as I held my pin dead-steady on a small area of his chest filled with arteries and veins leading into his vitals. I did not notice my heart attempting to pound out of my chest, which occurs sometimes. There were a couple small limbs keeping this from being a perfectly clean shot. I hoped the bull would take just one more step, but I judged it wasn't going to happen, so I concentrated hard on threading the arrow through the limbs and began applying pressure to the release.
In an instant the well tuned arrow completely disappeared into the chest of the bull. I still have a still-frame in my mind of the gush of blood that exploded from his chest as he turned to run. Graphic, I know, but I can't tell you the relief and reassurance this would bring me later as I sat waiting to track the bull. As the bull turned to his right to run he uprooted a 7' tall pine that was growing beside the trail, carrying it away in his rack!
I was dead cool during the shot, but then completely lost it as the bull disappeared into the timber. A wave of emotion bombarded me, and I hit the ground. It really is difficult to put into word. The intensity of what I felt. Like all the suffering, frustration, struggle, joy, accomplishment from past seasons gets balled up in your chest, and then the ball suddenly explodes! I can't do it justice.
After quivering on the ground like a fool for a couple of minutes I gave my hunting partner a big hug, probably cussed more than I should have, and babbled with emotion.
(This is getting long) As I approached the point of impact I could see the blood on the ground. I followed the trail for about five yards, ducked under some low branches, was looking at the blood spattered ground, when my hunting partner said, "Hold on." I glanced up, and 60 yards ahead I could see a light rump laying in the tall grass, along with one large beam sticking up in the air. This was cause for another celebration!
The blood trail to the elk was essentially a pink pathway that I could have felt myself along, let alone followed visually. Near the bull we came across an uprooted tree. Both of us were amazed, and glanced around for the hole it was plucked from. Suddenly it came back to me! That was the tree I'd seen in the bull's antlers as he disappeared out of sight! He ripped it out of the ground, and carried it 60 yards to where he'd fallen. I ran back to confirm the hole near the trail.
We got to work moving meat away from the carcass. I was already pretty beat before all of this unfolded, but the work had only begun! We crawled out of the drainage with our first load of meat around 2:00 am, and a much needed drink was in order.
I couldn't have asked for a prettier bull, but a rack isn't much of a trophy to me without a good story. A story that includes dedication, hard work, preparation, a clean harvest, and some adventure thrown in makes that rack on the wall even more special.
2017-elk-1 by Zach Even, on FlickrThe tree the bull uprooted, and carried 60 yards in his rack.
tree by Zach Even, on FlickrMy first glimpse of the bull!
first-look by Zach Even, on FlickrThe blood trail.
blood-trail by Zach Even, on FlickrPulling a 32" arrow that got full penetration on a frontal shot. It was quite a site to see the lighted nock appear from the chest cavity.
arrow by Zach Even, on FlickrGrizzly tracks that shared my trail for two miles.
grizzly-track by Zach Even, on FlickrNo easy way out of here but straight through this.
deadfall by Zach Even, on FlickrHis seconds might be my favorite feature, but whale tales, and wide 4ths are cool too.
side-view by Zach Even, on FlickrMy very FIRST selfie. The high schoolers I teach can't believe I've never taken a selfie with my phone. I told them I was waiting for the right time.
First-Selfie by Zach Even, on FlickrTrophy shot!
meat by Zach Even, on Flickr
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