After an unsuccessful elk hunt in Idaho — nine days and saw only three elk, all running like scalded dogs — I headed down to Colorado to hunt with my buddies Greg Jouflas and Nathan Andersohn. The hunting was fantastic. In seven days, we killed five elk and a bear, had wild parties around the campfire at night, and enjoyed fantastic meals such as stuffed elk loin, wild mushrooms, farm-fresh eggs, grilled elk steaks, and myriad other delights.
Since the area is not very large, and is surrounded by golf courses on one side, private land on another, and a small section of National Forest up top, we hunted from treestands and ground blinds up to the end of the season to keep from pushing the elk off of Greg’s ranch. The second to last day of the season, I was sitting up high on the ranch and heard several bulls bugling all around me. So, I gathered my gear and went for a walk.
The wind was perfect as I dropped down the mountain below a bugling bull and began my stalk back up below him. It was near dark … time was of the essence. I finally came to a spot about 75 yards or so below the bugling bull, nocked an arrow, and gave a few cow calls.
There was a chirp, then a sick bugle … the thought of calling in another hunter went through my mind. Then a small cow came out of the stand of aspens above and called while walking straight at me. Then a five-point bull appeared and followed her down, then another … this one a 4×4, the minimum legal bull for this area … and finally a smaller bull.
As the four came down the hill, the cow damn near ran into me, barked, jumped, and trotted off. The 4×4 stopped broadside up the hill, silhouetted against the western sky. The arrow took him low through one lung and the liver marking one of the most successful and fun elk hunts I have been on, with great friends, great memories, and several hundred pounds of delicious elk meat in the freezers.
Now, if 2012 will be so good!
