I am going out next week on my first Oregon elk hunt. I will stay very close to the truck. I have been thinking about my last hunt that took place in Montana toward the end of a general rifle season. My next door neighbor skipped his college classes and came along. We went down to the truck stop at Rocker and filled up on food and fuel then headed southbound on I - 15.
We were headed to the game range on the way to Wise River. I had hunted this spot on the previous day.
Lots of other hunters were on the road there as well. Recent inclement weather spurred every elk in the Big Hole valley to leave and they streamed onto the game range. We ambled by hunters that had pulled over to install tire chains in anticipation of deep snow ahead. I had ten ply tires and a lot of sand in the back. It was time to get busy climbing the hill. It was my friend's chore to scan for our turn point landmark. A big snow covered rock. I was busy flailing the wheel and keeping the foot feed mashed flat with the gearbox in low range. At the rock I swung wide. "Are we still on the road" my bud asked. I couldn't say I was still busy.
So now we ease up to our parking spot and commence the pocket drill ritual. Then we part. My friend is young and strong and heads up the mountain. I am not so I take a much easier sideways route . I stop to listen while I wait on the sunrise. I am at a place where I suspect game coming around the side of the mountain would not see me until it was too late.
Here comes daylight. I have company nearby. Two young bull moose are only 50 yards away. They object to my presence and stomp off but then return to continue raking their antlers on tree. They are still very close and are now showing off. What a great decoy.!
Then after a long time I am rewarded with cold feet. I see some guys below me talking as they head back on a trail. It seems like a good idea so I head back. On the way I cross my first wolverine track. I follow to see what he is up to ending up back near where I was.
Then twenty-two shots ring out about 500 yards away. I wait some more. A huge lone bull steps out 40 yards off. I pull up my rifle to see snow covered branches. I kneel, same view. I launch into prone in the snow. As my scope finds hair he turns back into the woods going uphill. I pump my legs in pursuit while he saunters ahead. He hits a trail and is gone. Now I am in the open and some leatherheads pass by twenty yards away. One is lookin me funny. I hope she dies childless.
When I get back to the pickup some hunters ask "Was that you up there with the skyscraper horns ? ". Yes it was me, my rifle is cold, my tag pristine. Yet I was a very satisfied hunter and said " Thank You Lord for that fine bit of action".
We were headed to the game range on the way to Wise River. I had hunted this spot on the previous day.
Lots of other hunters were on the road there as well. Recent inclement weather spurred every elk in the Big Hole valley to leave and they streamed onto the game range. We ambled by hunters that had pulled over to install tire chains in anticipation of deep snow ahead. I had ten ply tires and a lot of sand in the back. It was time to get busy climbing the hill. It was my friend's chore to scan for our turn point landmark. A big snow covered rock. I was busy flailing the wheel and keeping the foot feed mashed flat with the gearbox in low range. At the rock I swung wide. "Are we still on the road" my bud asked. I couldn't say I was still busy.
So now we ease up to our parking spot and commence the pocket drill ritual. Then we part. My friend is young and strong and heads up the mountain. I am not so I take a much easier sideways route . I stop to listen while I wait on the sunrise. I am at a place where I suspect game coming around the side of the mountain would not see me until it was too late.
Here comes daylight. I have company nearby. Two young bull moose are only 50 yards away. They object to my presence and stomp off but then return to continue raking their antlers on tree. They are still very close and are now showing off. What a great decoy.!
Then after a long time I am rewarded with cold feet. I see some guys below me talking as they head back on a trail. It seems like a good idea so I head back. On the way I cross my first wolverine track. I follow to see what he is up to ending up back near where I was.
Then twenty-two shots ring out about 500 yards away. I wait some more. A huge lone bull steps out 40 yards off. I pull up my rifle to see snow covered branches. I kneel, same view. I launch into prone in the snow. As my scope finds hair he turns back into the woods going uphill. I pump my legs in pursuit while he saunters ahead. He hits a trail and is gone. Now I am in the open and some leatherheads pass by twenty yards away. One is lookin me funny. I hope she dies childless.
When I get back to the pickup some hunters ask "Was that you up there with the skyscraper horns ? ". Yes it was me, my rifle is cold, my tag pristine. Yet I was a very satisfied hunter and said " Thank You Lord for that fine bit of action".
