I'm fond of recounting a really funny incident while I was tracking down stray cattle in the Rockies. We try to get them all in before elk season starts, but there are always a few that need a little extra help in finding their way back home. :grin:
It was in fact midday Monday after the Saturday opening day and I was on a big sage flat something like a mile wide and three miles long. There were hills at one end and steep bluffs at the other, with timber running down either side. Out in the middle of the flat was a low knob covered with timber, a place cattle had liked to hide out in years past.
Along the "bluff" end of the flat were several big camps. Did I say big? I meant to say HUGE!!! Several were each a dozen or more camp trailers and camper trucks ringed around a giant central fire pit with whole ranks of ATVs parked everywhere. Guys were lazing around yelling, playing music, running chainsaws. Generally hooting and hollering to beat the band.
I spurred over toward the little timbered knob to check for strays. Along the way I saw sure enough bovine tracks and piles, but also started seeing elk tracks. Really fresh ones.
Just as I got up to the knob all heck broke loose. A herd of about 40 elk including several very nice bulls went piling out one side while my strays went out the other. The elk beat feet all the way across that open sage flat, between the two biggest camps and over the edge of the bluff. I figured World War III was about to break out and spurred toward some granite boulders for cover.
Not a shot to be heard. No break in the commotion from all those "hunters." Darnedest thing I've ever seen.