First Elk

I had a cow tag for my first elk hunt.

Got out to my unit the night before the hunt with a buddy. We drove 40 miles looking for sign that night on the forest roads. 26 miles in, we snapped the upper ball joint in half. We wired it together, and drove into town, slowly. We spent the night in a motel, finally getting to asleep at 4am, opening morning.

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After a few hours of sleep, we replaced the ball joint and got the tire replaced.

Hunted hard for the rest of opening day, saw nothing in the northern part of the unit that is forest. We only saw maybe six elk tracks crossing the miles of roads we traveled. Only saw one elk hanging in a camp. There just weren't any around. Other hunters were saying the same thing.

We formulated a plan for the second day and went to a different area, down a ridgeline. We hiked 10 miles round trip, and found some good sign.

We went home for church on Sunday. Monday morning, I went alone. I went back to where we saw sign. Hiking in, I kept seeing fresher and fresher sign. I was getting close.

I went over to the edge and glassed up twenty elk. They were 1200 yards away. I went down behind a hill and worked my way into where they were. I was watching close as I stalked in, and I came into three or four elk off the main herd. They didn't see me, and I got two shots broadside. Misses. I kept stalking towards the main herd.

I find more. Another couple of broadside misses! They go over the edge. They are at about 350 yards down the mountain, just standing there. I get time to set up with my bipod, get a steady shot. I was shooting 5 inch groups at home the weekend before the hunt at 300 yards. I dial in paralax, get my breathing steady. Squeeze. Boom!

I see it hit low. I get one more shot. I hold up. Missed, low.

I had three opportunities to shoot! Twice at less than 100 yards. Once at 300. I don't miss elk sized targets... but I was missing like crazy. Confused, I shot at rock, 25 yards away. I was a full 10 inches low, or more. My scope must have gotten messed up on the ATV. At least, that is my excuse right now.

But now, I knew where they were. I called my buddy to help me the next morning, he brought his gun. We met an hour before light and got to the spot to hunt into where I'd seen them the day before. We saw elk within 30 minutes of shooting light, about 800 yards away, same place I saw them the day before.

As we moved in though the cedars, we came up on a few outside the herd we saw earlier, still grazing. I had a split second, but only a Texas heart shot as they were running away. Hunting cedars is a close and fast shooting business. We saw them moving fast towards the edge.

We went to the edge, and from a point, there was a herd of 100 or more moving down the canyon. My buddy ranged them at 350 ballistic yards with my Vortex Ranger, which meant they were more like 500+ yards down the mountain.

I set up on a rock. I picked one, and shot her with a 300 win mag, accubond. Per my buddy, holding at the spine for drop at that distance. It went in a few inches lower than I held, behind her shoulder, came out through her ribs. Looked like a double lung hit. The bubble on her side is the broken ribs and exit wound. She stood still, then we saw her go down.

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Now, the real work began. We hiked down into where she was. I quartered her, took the backstrap and tenderloins in game bags. I left the hide on to protect the meat on the quarters. We drug it up the side of the mountain. It-took-four-hours. I am beat...

This is a picture across the canyon, and is taken from where we quartered her. I love looking across Arizona canyons. Hiking up them and packing out an elk... not as much.

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