For the last 13 years, I’ve been applying for a special draw elk tag here in Montana. This year was nothing different, throwing in the unit number and assuming I’d get another bonus point but for some reason this year was different. Maybe the hunting God’s knew I was expecting a baby this winter with my wife and a hunt of a lifetime wouldn’t be the best option for me next season? Whatever it was, when I finally checked my draw status this past spring, I did the thing most people do after they’ve drawn a rare tag. I went straight to the regulations and double checked I actually applied for the correct tag, I called friends, freaking out, double checking with them it was correct, but after numerous texts and emails and I finally convinced myself I had drawn this ever-elusive rifle tag, 1 of 30 in the state, and it was time to start figuring out exactly what I wanted to do in a few months once rifle season opened.
I was lucky enough to have some friends who had drawn it in the past as well as a few friends who lived in the area that pointed me to some great areas including a block management spot that generally holds big bulls. I put in some vacation time from work and as soon as opening weekend hit, I was off with hopes that the few days I was given to hunt would be enough.
The first days of this season were hot. Like almost hitting 70’s during the day, which as most know, isn’t the best weather for elk hunting. The first day came in went with me not seeing much other than 1 bull that scampered off without getting much of a look at him.
Day 2 was about the same, up hiking in the dark before sunrise and hoping for some luck. It didn’t happen, although I had a run in with a few rag horn’s that weren’t exactly the bulls I was looking for. I hiked nearly 11 miles that day and saw 2 elk. Not exactly what I had anticipated.
Day 3 started off like the previous 2 until about 10 am I heard some bugling from the southern part of the property. I walked about 3.5 miles and got into the area where I thought I heard the bugles coming from. Across the small valley I glassed a spike walking through the timber but never got a glance at the bugling bulls I was looking for. As I started to eat lunch, another bugle rang which was back towards the area I had just came from. Over the next hour or so, I circled back and started following the bugles until I felt I was about a few hundred yards away from the bugling bulls. Crawling through the brush, I peaked over the next ridge and found myself about 100 yards from 2 spike bulls, both sitting in the brush, likely exhausted from their hour-long bugling session. I was disappointed but kind of just laughed to myself as I had been fooled into following these little guys for the past few hours on my last day of hunting this spot. I decided to sneak back off to a high glassing point and wait for the darkness to set in, which it did, and much earlier than expected. Rain and clouds came in about 2 hours before sunset, it got dark and cold. And it dumped rain. I could still glass through my binoculars and as the darkness came, the elk emerged. Small groups of 2-3 started popping up everywhere. I found the ones I thought looked like the most mature of the few within a reasonable distance and took off after them. After closing the distance to a few hundred yards and as shooting light disappeared, I was able to lock onto the biggest bull in the group through my scope and realized he was likely one of the rag horns I had spotted earlier in my trip. As darkness came in, I waited out and watched these guys slowly feed away and realized opening weekend was over for me, I didn’t have an elk, but somehow still felt like it was a success without harvesting an animal. Before I left, I told myself I’d only take a mature 6 point bull with this tag, and even though I had opportunities on other elk, they didn’t quite fit the bill. I hiked back to my truck, soaking wet in the rain, pondering what my next move would be and if I’d be able to get back up to the area again anytime soon.
As luck would have it, I sent an email off to the block management owner and he approved me for another hunt a few weeks later. Those few weeks came and went, I made some plans, set out, and set up camp about a mile from where I was hunting in a camper loaned to me from a friend. I knew this trip was likely my last to this particular spot and missing any hunting time was not an option.
My first day started out like many of the previous days on my earlier trip as it was fairly warm out, but this time it was very windy. I explored the particular piece of land I was assigned to as it was about 2 miles west of where I had hunted previously. I started off before the sun came up and got to a high glassing point but did not see anything but a few mule deer roaming around. I came back down off the glassing spot and started heading towards the end of the property, about 3 miles away from where I currently was. Almost immediately after dipping into the trees, I jumped 3 big bulls from their beds. They sounded like a herd of 50 crashing through the trees as they dipped off the side of the hills I was in and took across the open meadows towards a thicker forest about 2 miles away. I glassed and watch them slowly disappear and figured they were as good as gone. They didn’t stop running for damn near 2 miles. It was almost as impressive as the racks on all three of them were. They were by far the biggest bulls I had seen on my trip and I was so pissed at myself for spooking them off so damn early in the trip. Stalk and spook success! I gave up on anymore adventures through the timber as the wind was bad and I didn’t want to risk blowing out any other elk that may happen to be bedded down in the area. I finished the evening off on an alternate ridge, glassing until shooting light ended, and slowly made my way back to camp.
Day 2 started much like day 1, except it was even more windy. With the wind directly at my back, I wasn’t able to make much headway into the areas I wanted to hunt, so I hiked up the same ridge as the night before and hung out until mid morning. Nothing was moving in this wind and I think I was likely the only one dumb enough to be out and about at that point in time. I headed back down and decided to head into town to grab a few supplies and watch a little Sunday football before coming back for an evening hunt. I was hoping the wind might have died down a little before the afternoon came around, but I was wrong. Back out again in the wind, I decided my only option was to climb the tallest vista in the area, get out of the wind as much as possible, and sit and wait. Coming through the opposite side to make the wind my advantage would take me a few hours of hiking before I could even start hunting and I’d still have the chance to spook any remaining elk out of the property, so sitting high and tight not far from the road on this peak was my plan. I reached the top of the vista at around 1:30 PM and decided I would wait it out until shooting light ended around 5:30 or so that night.
I soon realized that I didn’t bring a big enough jacket and had forgotten my gloves in my truck. The temperature dropped and I ended up hiking back and forth up the hill to keep myself warm over the last few hours of daylight. It was a slow afternoon and I did not see anything as my binoculars focused in on the same tree stumps and random logs that somehow appeared to be moving or “definitely weren’t there before”. Out in this wind, I would be amazed if anything decided to show itself. The sun was disappearing and I was making plans of where I wanted to head for the final light of the day. Before I could do that though, I heard something unusual. Something was crashing in the deep timber right below me. At first I thought maybe a tree had been blown down as it was super windy, but the sound kept coming and soon enough I realized it was bull elk fighting in almost the exact same spot as I had busted the three big bulls out of yesterday. I slowly made my way down from my glassing location to see if I could get a look at these guys fighting. As soon as I left the protected side of the mountain, I felt the wind again at my back and realized I had made a mistake as 3 giant bulls, likely the same I encountered the day before, poured out of the trees below me looking ever so cautious. I realized they must have winded me but they weren’t exactly sure where I was as they almost ran directly towards me and the wind was swirling in every direction. They ended up cresting a near by hill and as soon as they were out of view, I took of sprinting in that direction. I reached the base of the hill, completely out of breath, and slowly climbed up to the top to peak over and get a good look at these 3 bulls and prepare for a shot. As a looked over, I was surprised what I saw. Nothing. Not an elk in sight. I was dumbfounded and had no idea where they had ventured off to. I started glassing frantically, glassing the nearby trees and open meadows they may have ventured to. Nothing, at least for a minute. As I was glassing around, I pulled my binoculars down and took another look across the field. About 200 yards in front of me was another small hill, and out from under it, 3 bulls came out. Two of them definitely spotted me and walked into the timber cautiously and the third was still in the open meadow, unsure what the other 2 were looking at. I dropped down quickly to my rifle resting on its bipod, focused my scope on the 3rd bull in the open meadow, picked my target, took a breath and pulled the trigger. The blast definitely got the elk moving, as all 3 joined up to go over the next ridge. As I readied for another shot, I had to figure out which one I shot at previously as all 3 had grouped together and were heading on up the ridge. As 2 continued up the ridge, the last one suddenly stopped, and I noticed blood coming from the vitals. He started “the wobble” as I put a second shot into the chest cavity as he tipped over. I kept my scope on him with another round chambered but it was done. My excitement was overwhelming. I had done it. I was whispering to myself “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD.” I laugh thinking about it, wishing I had video taped myself in that moment but I finally got the bull elk I had always dreamed of. I texted my wife through my Garmin inReach “BULL DOWN!!! 5 x 5!” I sat and watched him through my scope, making sure he didn’t move and just waited a few minutes to calm down. As I was confident he wasn’t going anywhere, I headed over to see what this guy looked like up close. He was a giant. Not just his rack, which I soon realized was actually bruiser 6 by 6 with a busted off 3 as he was a fighter, but his body. I couldn’t believe how big these elk are up close. I’ve been on many elk hunts, but for some reason this guy just seemed bigger. I looked back at where I had shot from and noticed he ran about 30 yards from my initial shot and as I gutted him out, I realized he wasn’t going anywhere. I had placed my first shot right through the top portion of his heart. It was a nice knowing that all the time I had spent on reloading and getting the perfect round for my rifle had paid off. I had shot and sighted in my rifle as best I could, even printing out a shooting chart just in case I had a longer shot I needed to take. It turns out 200 yards was all the distance I needed.
Grandpa’s knife with R.A.M. initials
I took a few photos as the sun set and remembered to pull out my grandpa’s knife resting in his self made leather sheath with his initials burned into it. It was his hunting knife he had used many times over his years and I have brought it with me on almost every elk hunt I’ve gone on, hoping that one day I’d be able to use it again on a bull elk such as this one. It was surreal. The moon and stars were now out shining from above and I was sitting with my elk in the darkness thinking about my grandpa and hoping he was looking down smiling at what his grandson had accomplished. It was a perfect moment of stillness and reflection, reminiscing about all the hours I had put into my rifle, my scope, my hunting applications, scouting, driving, camping, etc. I was thinking about my wife at home with our unborn child, excited to call and talk to her about my hunt and even more excited to get back on the road to see her again. It was a moment of pure happiness and relief, excitement and relaxation. It’s hard to explain other than saying it was just a perfect moment in time that I’ll never forget. And after that the realization came forth that I still had a 700 pound animal to take care of.
About 2 hours after a text to a childhood friend of mine, (a guy who’s been my best friend since I stepped foot into second grade at Cherry Valley Elementary in Polson, MT) I saw his headlights coming down the road. I asked him to bring a wheelbarrow and a couple other guys if he could and we could have this elk out quickly. It turned out he was the only one who could make it but with a game cart and a wheelbarrow, we slowly but surely got the elk out after quartering and caping him out. It took about 7 hours from the time I pulled the trigger until I stepped onto the first step of my camper to ready myself for bed. Still filled with adrenaline, I finally caught some sleep after realizing my goal had come to fruition. It was a long road to get me to this point, but the journey was worth it. I finally had my mature 6 point bull, a successful hunt, and a lifelong friend of mine to enjoy it with. It was definitely a hunt of a lifetime.
