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November 27, 2015: My five-year quest had finally come to a conclusion this season, and I’m more hooked than ever. Is it September yet!
I have been elk hunting hard for five seasons now and up until this season, I have been a university student. So I was stuck with minimal hunting time but managed to get out every day I possibly could, but was never successful. Finally, I graduated university in June 2015, which meant I had more time to hunt during fall 2015, as I tried to gain employment in my field of education.
October 25th came along and first thing in the morning, I was into a herd of 30 elk, sitting just 45 yards from them. Guess what, no legal bulls to be seen! I was there undetected for 10 minutes and that’s how the rest of my season was going.
I put in about 12 days hunting elk and hiked between 15 to 20 kilometres a day in the process. I received good news on November 25th that I was hired in my field of choice, which I’d start in the middle of January. Everything was starting to look up—I was hoping this would be the good luck I needed to find my first bull elk.
On November 27th, I woke up after my alarm and rushed down to get packed up to get out hunting. When I got to my hunting area, it was still dark out. I then hiked in four kilometres southwest by myself in the dark and got up high on top of a ridge. As soon as I could see (little light), I looked northeast and over four kilometres (as a crow flies) there was a herd of about 120 elk feeding on the side of a ridge. Instantly, I started kicking myself for wasting so much energy going the wrong direction. I set up a game plan to get in close and hopefully get an elk.
I dropped out of sight of the elk and hiked through a valley, zigzagging my way to the base of a ridge (three ridges away still), and then climbed the ridge to get a view of the herd. I spotted some antlers sticking up over the ridge, but only saw the top two points. Initially, I wasn’t sure if he was legal, as I already had a close encounter with a big two-point, non-legal bull earlier in the year, so I was determined to get closer. I had to backtrack and scurry around the ridge to stay out of sight of the elk.
I dropped down into a valley again and ended up at the base of the ridge across from the rest of the herd. I ranged the herd but my range finder wouldn’t pick them up (only good for 450 yards), so I knew I needed to get closer. At this point, the bull was still just showing the top two points of his antlers. I cut through some trees, came up through another set of trees, and was just coming up to the top of the ridge when I suddenly saw the herd of elk all bedded/feeding. Right away I could see the bull—standing—and I knew he was legal! I counted five points on the one side and as it was a 3-point zone, I was in luck! I got excited and right away found my rest about 25 yards away. My rest was going to be some rocks, so I belly crawled in some wind-drifted deep snow to get to my rest.
I set my rifle down over the rocks and pulled my range finder out—it read 321 yards. I felt comfortable with the shot. So I got behind my gun and... boom! The whole herd jumped up and started looking around. The bull was clear from the rest of the group, so I put another shell in the chamber. Looking straight at me, kind of quartering one way, I sent another one at him and heard a loud TAAWAACCKK! I knew the second shot was on the mark and a good shot, as the herd began to run over the hill.
My heart started pounding as I called the other guys in my hunting group to let them know what had happened. I regained my composure and went to look for blood. I couldn’t find blood upon arrival to where the herd was and I began to feel sick to my stomach. But I had a hunch to look over the edge to see if I could find the herd running and if the bull was with them.
My plan was to watch the bull to see if he went down or anything and determine the direction of travel. As I crested the ridge, I saw 120 cow elk and spiker bulls looking up at me about 100 yards below. They were piled up at a fence line. They would look up at me on top of the ridge, then look halfway down the hill, then back at me, and then back down lower on the hill. I couldn’t see the bull in the herd, so I looked at where they were looking and saw the bull’s antlers sticking up. I let out a WOOHOO! The elk scattered a bit but I managed to get a picture of some of the herd (see above photo).
I called one of my hunting partners to let him know he could bring in the sleds to help drag out the bull. But just as I started to talk to him, the bull stumbled to his feet at about 25 yards. I put another round into his lungs and he hit the dirt. He then begins to roll down the hill... the wrong way of course! After he came to his resting place, I was able to put my hands on my first bull elk. I checked my step counter (on my phone) after I got to my bull—I had logged over 10 kilometres that morning.
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| Brett poses with his Bull Elk. |
That’s when the work began. I hiked part of the way out to meet one of the other guys to help lead him into where I was.
We snapped a few pictures and then I was coached on the gutless method to get him ready to be packed out.
I had spotted the herd just after 7:00 am and shot the bull around 9:00 am. I was back at the road (over four kilometres from where I shot my elk) just before 4:00 pm with all the meat and antlers. It took two trips with sleds to get my bull elk back to my truck.
I learned that day that persistence pays off. I never gave up and continued hunting a hard as I possibly could. I spent 24 days hunting big game this year, from a 10-day sheep hunt to hunting whitetails on the prairies. This hunt was by far the most exhilarating and mind-blowing experience of my hunting career. I learned more about myself that day than I have in nine years of hunting.
A big thanks to my dad, my uncle Tim, John and Norm for teaching me so much and helping mentor me throughout my hunting career. ■
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