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I have been hunting elk in Alberta since I moved here in 2005 and since then have only arrowed two, in 2012 and in 2013. That being said, 2013 was extra special, as I was introducing a friend of mine, Logan Knowlton, to the intricacies and excitement of bowhunting that fall. Logan had never hunted before and I offered him the opportunity to tag along with me.
I had the following day off work and planned to go out first thing for elk. Logan had the day off as well, so I suggested he come along for the thrill; he accepted enthusiastically. We made plans to rendezvous at a location close to the public land we would be hunting.
Morning came, preparations were completed, and off we went to our hunting grounds in the rolling hills of east-central Alberta. After parking my truck, we commenced walking into the mixed poplar and pasture land terrain. After about 20 minutes of walking, we found a spot on a knoll to glass for elk. It was twenty minutes before legal hunting time but was getting light enough to see in the distance with optics.
With some quiet banter back and forth, Logan stated, “Wouldn’t it be awesome if something just walked in front of us now?” To which I replied, “Ya, it would, but we wouldn’t be able to shoot it yet.” Not a minute after he said that, off in the distance, in a valley between two ridgelines, a dark shape appeared.
I could not believe what I saw approaching us. I looked through my binoculars and stated excitedly, “Logan you won’t believe this, but there’s an elk, coming this way.
“It’s a bull too!” I said, as I pointed to the area for him to see through his binos. Once he saw it, both of our hearts started to race.
I looked at my watch and it was fifteen minutes before legal time. The bull had about a kilometre to travel before it got to us, as it was currently on private land, and into the area where we had permission to hunt. Our hope to hunt this animal increased as it came closer and closer to the fence line it had to cross for us to be able to pursue it. It finally got to the fence line after what seemed like an eternity, but then it just stopped and paused, looking up and down the fence line. Both Logan and I were praying the beast would hop over, but it just stood there about 300 metres away.
Seeing as we were partially exposed, I decided to slowly make a move toward some more scrub brush to better conceal our location. So, on hands and knees, we slowly crept along the knoll, as the bull looked away. He was still standing there looking indecisive as to whether or not he should cross the fence.
In order to persuade him and give him an incentive to come onto our side of the fence line, I decided to give a soft cow call. That perked him up and he looked directly toward our direction.
For the next two minutes or so, the bull just stood there, looking our way. Then it slowly turned and started walking along the fence line, away from us. I decided to give another cow call and the bull, once again, turned and looked in our direction, but continued walking along the fence, again away from us.
“If he goes over the hill he is on, we need to run over to that hill to see where he goes.” I said softly to Logan. Sure enough, he disappeared over the hill. We picked up and ran the 300 metres to the hill the bull was just on. Once there, we slowly crept to the crest in order to see where the bull went. No bull was seen! He completely disappeared. At that point, I thought the hunt was over and that he went into the deep bush on the private land side of the fence. Suddenly, off to our left, I caught movement. Logan and I realized that instant, he jumped the fence and the hunt is on. The problem now was that both the bull and we were all in the open meadow, which had undulating terrain. How do we hunt this one I started to contemplate. As we watched the bull continue to walk further from us, I turned to Logan, “Are you prepared to run a bit on this one?”
To which he replied, “Yep, I think so!”
The bull was about 400 metres away and putting more distance between us. There was another knoll about 400 metres to his front.
“If he goes over that hill, we need to run to the small knoll next to the tree line in order to get into position and see where he is going. Just follow me and stay as low as you can.”
Sure enough, the bull disappeared out of sight again and the race was on. Running as quick as we could, zigzagging over deadfall, rocks and small shrubs, we made it to the top of the hill.
“There, by the lone tree, I see antlers,” Logan indicated along the edge of the meadow, as he caught his breath.
All we could see at 300 metres were the tips of his what I believed to be his 5 X 5 rack. We were now parallel to the elk with the wind perfect. As the bull continued to walk straight ahead along the edge of the meadow, I picked another small knoll about another 200 metres way as an intercept point. I figured the small knoll would put us in bow range.
We backed down the knoll we were on and crouched out of the bull’s sight to the next knoll. As we got there, down on hands and knees, we slowly crept up to the top. I peeked over the top of the knoll and saw the tips of his antlers and the top of his back at the bottom of the other side. With my heart racing and pumping, I turned to Logan, “He’s right there!” You could see the excitement building on Logan’s face and I am sure, my face was no different. I motioned for him to stay where he was, as I grabbed my range finder. Sixty-five yards. It was too far for my comfort zone. I turned to Logan and mouthed that I had to get closer.
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| Logan and Shannon with their bull elk. |
Knocking an arrow, I then crawled further up the hill to get into comfortable bow range. The bull still had his head down, grazing lazily. I ranged again, fifty-five yards downhill. The year before I arrowed a 6x6 bull at fifty-one yards; so I knew I could make this shot. I slowly got to my knees, came to full draw, and let the arrow fly. Hearing the thwap of the arrow and watching the arrow enter just behind the front shoulder, I knew it was a good shot. The bull lifted his head, hopped, spun around 180 degrees and took three steps, looking around.
I was shaking with excitement, turned to Logan and pumped my fist. He was just a grinning, as he had heard the smack of the arrow. However, the bull just stood there, and heeding the advice of my older brother Nelson to continue to fling arrows until the animal is down, I tried to knock another arrow. I was so excited the second arrow came off the string, as I began to draw back. Fumbling, I got it secured, came to full draw and let fly. The bull turned, wobbled, and started to walk toward the bush. I knocked a third arrow and let fly, this one being somewhat of a Hail Mary, as he was about seventy yards away now and quartering away. I watched as the bull walked into the bush on a trail for about ten metres, then I saw the back legs collapse.
I turned to Logan and whispered, “He’s down!” Logan and I turned to each other and at that time, the “high fives” were given.
I explained to Logan that instead of going directly to the elk, we would give him some time to expire for sure, and go back to the truck and get the supplies we would need to gut and lift him into the box of the truck. During the walk back to the truck, you could see the transformation in Logan’s face from just being along for the ride to wanting to be an active participant. He was bitten by the hunting bug, but I didn’t know how badly yet.
I knew Logan had enjoyed the hunt, running and all, for not two weeks later, he texted me that he bought himself a bow and was looking forward to next fall. He was hooked, big time! Although the hunt was exciting, the biggest reward for me was seeing the desire in my friend to pursue hunting. I am sure we will have just as much fun and excitement next bow season and hopefully many more to come. ■
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