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2019 Alberta Elk Hunt

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Sept 21, day 6...

Woke almost 2 hours before legal shooting light to find the stove almost out. Just a few coals and embers still glowing as I feed the wood into it. I crawl back into my bag to try and grab a bit more sleep...

People often ask why we do this hunt? Why do we work so hard to get an elk when we don’t have to? Why do you guys camp with bugs and mice? You see, my best friend, and the fellow with whom I’ve been hunting beside for 25 years, has a sister and brother-in-law who farm and ranch nearby, lots of land that is covered in deer, moose and elk. We have been told we can just sit over access trails on their alfalfa and collect our animals. Same story for myself, with a half dozen friends also owning land, being told the same thing. “Sleep in the house,” or “Bring your trailer and park right in the yard,” is relayed annually to us. Yet we continue to come here. Why do we do it? Its because it is not about the collection of the animal. Do not misunderstand, we all want the meat and work hard to both gain, and preserve it. It is about the whole experience. The sights, smells, chilly morning air, scream of a bugle, howl of a wolf, rising and setting sun, laughter and camaraderie, great friends, good campfire and warm tents. This becomes a stark reminder when my friend remarked to nobody in particular this morning, as he sat gazing into the clear, star filled northern sky, “I really love this place!” We all know that our presence, coupled with the four(?) other camps around us, is a lot of human scent and traffic for this tiny little corner of crown land, sitting in a finger as the river bends around us on three sides. We are aware that in all likelihood the elk have moved into the deepest, toughest and gnarliest gullies this place has, and with every passing day our odds of success drop further. We could venture into those areas, but we don’t. Elk also need their sanctuary. Yet the group returns, with high spirits, new gear, open excitement and always a big hug from old friends each and every year!

I depart camp headed for an old trapper trail that runs directly East. This trail has not been utilized in years, thus not maintained, there are many blowdowns and much undergrowth. It really slows your pace down, which makes for better hunting. I follow this right to the edge of the river bank, which is almost a sheer drop 600’ to the river flats. There are elk down there, I know that but you’d have to eat it there too! That or build a raft and float it out. I then turn South. This new path will bring me near the Perch, on the East side by roughly 600 yards. My thoughts are that perhaps if I slow hunt through here, make the turn back West on the trail that passes through the clearing below the Perch, I may gently move an elk past the sitting party member. However rather than completely walk through that clearing, I will cut back North on a different trail, roughly 200 yards shy of the Perch, and slow hunt my way back to camp. Now, this does present a wee problem. Being just over the river banks means rolling hills and draws. Also, as this is old growth aspen, with 36”-60” high undergrowth, there are moments of high spots where visibility is way beyond my self imposed 80 yard shot limit, followed by visibility near zero. This will continue as I pass around the natural bend in the river right up to almost the Perch. However the scenery is beautiful so I will chance it. As I slowly follow the trail around I suddenly hear the soft purr “putt putt putt” of a grouse. I lower to the ground as my eyes search. There it is, a nice size ruffie sitting under a small spruce right on the edge of a little spruce bluff. I watch as he slowly moves away, his head bobbing with every step before I continue. I do not wish him to flush and put anything close on edge.

It is becoming quite late in the morning, the sun is high and packing heat, with me walking a south facing slope, which means openings and lots of exposure. My canvas bag has a single water bottle in it and I am thinking of breaking it out. The trail takes me into the shade of some trees, where I pause to enjoy the coolness. Laying on the ground right there is another water bottle! It is unopened and cold still from the previous evening. Well, can’t be leaving garbage hanging around so I do my part and pick it up. There is also no sense in packing the extra weight of the water, and pouring it on the ground doesn’t seem right, so I guess I’ll drink it. Yup, tasted good and did the job! I arrive at the Perch area having decided to push past the early trail. My guess was there probably wouldn’t be anyone there this late, and I was not wrong. A little rest then start the hill climb back towards camp. The sun tells me its lunch time.

As we eat we talk of the morning experiences. One seen some moose, cow and calf, as well as a deer, another seen a mullie buck and couple whitetails while a third seen a nice little whitetail buck. No elk were sighted. Again, the afternoon sun is quite hot, and we are forced to the shade. Way too warm for napping in the tent. I keep my promise to myself and have a good sponge bath, complete with a hair wash. It always amazes me how good one can feel after getting cleaned up. Discussions of old hunts, lost friends, farming and future ideas are abound. Its a good day...

Evening finds me gearing up lost in puzzlement of where to try? What to do? Finally I decide to just wander out of camp headed West. Isn’t that the saying? “Go West old man!” or something like that. Nobody hunts the area directly west of camp, its thick and dark, and never really showed signs of elk. Lots of moose sign, but not elk. Perhaps though with all the pressure??

I enter on an old trail and follow it generally westward, the wind is once again blowing fairly strong and every so often a dead pine tree falls. They do make a noise by the way. Pine beetles tore through here many years ago and there is standing dead pine everywhere. There is also lots of deadfall to step over. A lightening strike at the wrong time would be devastating. As would an irresponsible camp fire. The wind is creating a swirling effect in the forest. One moment its in your face, next at your back. Oh well, cannot control that. Onward!!

Working game trails ever westwardly I pause often to cow chirp, with only the odd soft bugle thrown in. Never hear a response. Lots of sitting and watching for motion in a sea of windy motion. Feels futile at best, but better than just sitting in camp. I stumble on another mule deer shed, this one older and badly rodent chewed, but has great mass and indications are had some good tine length. Wonder why I’ve never seen anything bigger than a forkie running around? Oh ya, they are smarter than me! At one point I slowly enter an open area with low underbrush. Trees are all white poplar and spaced several yards apart. Close examination shows the underbrush all nipped roughly 36” off the ground. Moose! Major moose browsing area for sure. I am not sure if elk will browse like this, I don’t think so but I carefully scan throughly. CHATTERING right beside me, scares me bad enough I jump. Damn red squirrel is sitting on a limb, ear high and only a few feet away. Apparently he wants me gone, and wont take no for an answer. Eventually I oblige as he wont keep quiet. Continuing my journey I start to swing North on trails to eventually end up at the main trail, where I rest and wait on my son-in-law, whom I know has to go by me on his way back to camp. Darkness sets in as I remove my percussion cap and secure the gun while waiting on him. Once again, nothing sighted by myself. Tomorrow???
 
Great questions ~~~ Well-answered.
There is a special depth of meaning to "the hunt," and you have uncovered it beautifully. All the thoughts you have shared are part and parcel of the answer.

Ah, once more your "Onward." As you have brought me (us) along on your hunt, I'm certain all look forward to your tomorrow. Your on-going chronicle is always upheld by looking toward a realized harvest.

And it is good to know of the dead pine tree. I can almost hear it...


Sept 21, day 6...

People often ask why we do this hunt? Why do we work so hard to get an elk when we don’t have to?

...we continue to come here. Why do we do it? Its because it is not about the collection of the animal. It is about the whole experience. The sights, smells, chilly morning air, scream of a bugle, howl of a wolf, rising and setting sun, laughter and camaraderie, great friends, good campfire and warm tents. This becomes a stark reminder when my friend remarked to nobody in particular this morning, as he sat gazing into the clear, star filled northern sky, “I really love this place!”

Discussions of old hunts, lost friends, farming and future ideas are abound. Its a good day...

Evening finds me gearing up lost in puzzlement of where to try? What to do? Finally I decide to just wander out of camp headed West. Isn’t that the saying? “Go West old man!”

I enter on an old trail and follow it generally westward, the wind is once again blowing fairly strong and every so often a dead pine tree falls. They do make a noise by the way.

Onward!!

Darkness sets in as I remove my percussion cap and secure the gun while waiting on him. Once again, nothing sighted by myself. Tomorrow???
 
Walking eagle, given the quality of your journal thus far, both the events and the writing, I would like to respectfully request/suggest that when all is said and done you copy and paste all your updates into a post in the "hunting journal" section that we might enjoy it in the future uninterrupted.

Be well, and God bless,
Dave
Also submit it to muzzleloader and or muzzleblast for publication. Well written, thought out, detailed and a fun great read. This is what icwant to read in those magazines as well as the other things.
 
I read a lot here, and almost never post...but I just had to tell you that this is a wonderful thread.

As an aside, my dad retired at 63 after being told that he had cancer; prognosis was 3 to 6 months. He passed away at 84 from unrelated causes.

Fingers crossed crossed for you!
 
Sept 22, day 7...

Camp time this morning. A little extra sleep was welcomed as well. Lord knows the hips and knees are sure deserving of a little rest. My son-in-law went out on his hunt this morning. He has a new family with two young children and really can use the meat, as such he is the most committed of us all and really putting in the hours. The rest remain in camp to start breaking most of it down.

Did not feed the stove last night as the tent I am in is coming down today. Wasn’t necessary anyhow, it was a very warm windy night. Three of our party are pulling out this morning so we have to spend some time breaking most of the camp down, then resetting for just the remaining two of us. Working at a relaxed pace should easily have things done within a couple hours. First however, a hot tea with a splash of honey!

Upon arrival at camp last night I learned there is a new party set up roughly 200 yards from us. We do a rough count and figure there are now 6 camps in the area. Too many. I hope the newcomers become discouraged and move on next year. This is something we have faced before though.

Well as most things work in life, I didn’t even get time for a tea before a shot rings out, followed by a second. I have a strong feeling that my son-in-law just harvested his first elk. Not long after it is confirmed, he has taken a little meat bull, 3x2 that is legal, by a few inches only, but legal non the less! He is very happy and all five of us go to help. Upon arrival we get the story, “So, I decide to sit here as there is a bunch of fresh tracks crossing right over there. I give out a bugle, glance downward and shift a bit, look up and there are two bulls standing broadside right there (roughly 30 yards away). Right away I can see the one is only a spiker, but this guy looks legal, so I raise my rifle and sent one through his lungs. He went straight down! I reload and put a confirming shot right behind his ear, just like you guys say to do.” Short and simple. Why aren’t my elk like that? The recovery is easy as he dropped right on the trapper trail, and the “ponies” came right to it. He is also one of those that has to head home today, so this is truly one of those last minute success stories.

With the elk dressed, loaded and my son-in-law packing for his trip home, it’s back to breakfast than breaking camp. Things flow smoothly and we still have the camp broke down by noon, with things repositioned for just the two of us completed also. Finally I get my tea, and sit down while enjoying it.

Today is overcast, thus a little cooler, yet still warm. The wind is still present and out of the West, but nothing like yesterday. Myself and the last remaining party member sit and talk of old stories till mid afternoon. We make a pact, should one of us be successful and get an elk, we will split it and our hunt will be over. It’s just too warm to hang something in camp, and unwise to be here alone anyhow. Soon we decide to gear up and head out for the evening hunt. Just as we are about to exit, the members of that camp set 200 yards from us pull up. It looks like they are leaving. Said they have to go back to work. Seem friendly enough but I suspect they wont be back. I think they feel the area is too crowded.

As we walk to our respective hunting areas, I decide that it might be a good evening to sit the Perch again. We part ways and wish each other luck. Upon arrival I settle in and once again start my patient calling, watching and waiting routine. This time the valley looks different. Oh the fall colors are still abound, but the sky is overcast with no rays reflecting off the clouds. It is still early in the evening however. An hour into things the wind has died completely, and an eire calm sets in. Roughly two hours into my sit the rain starts. It is light at the moment so I decide to continue the hunt. I tuck the rifles lock up under my arm and nestle in. My calling seems to generate what sounds like footsteps both behind, and below me, with the odd sound of a stick cracking. Something big is moving around... then I hear it, coming strong and getting louder as it nears. The wind is back, and not alone. Rain starts to intensify until it is no longer light, but a steady pour. This I cannot sit through, so I grab my bag, tuck the rifle and start the climb.

Back at camp I find my partner is already there, being driven out as well. He is 20+ years my elder and has the same concerns. Together we quickly secure things against the moisture then start supper under our tarp. Tea and coffee wash a simple meal of sausage on bread down, and we are content to listen to the rain on the tarp...
 
Sept 23, day 8...

Nature is calling, and badly. Must be time to rise. No time to dress as mother nature is demanding precedence. Outside I gaze at the sky, it has cleared overnight and is cold. Stars are shining in the black night sky. Wait a minute, black sky? I look around, no sign of a coming sunrise to the East. Back to bed I go. Probably shouldn’t have had that last tea..

Breakfast, granola bars and raisins again, along with the tea of course. Still clear and cool rain had stopped sometime in the previous evening but not before ensuring that the bush was soaked. I resolve to remain on the main trail systems this morning in attempt to stay as dry as possible. Immediately upon leaving camp there is a cow and bull elk track in the sandy trail. Sometime in the night they walked within 100 yards of camp. Likely spit on the ground at us also! I work my way in a West-Northwest direction when I hear the soft moaning wail of a cow moose, followed by the constant grunting of her impatient, and ever demanding male counterpart. Soon I can hear them also walking as they get nearer, when I suspect she smells my presence. I do not think the bull is even aware it is dawn yet, being so lost in his quest. She leads him off still grunting his pleas. Once again I continue onward until I come to a familiar spot where the trail passes close to the rim of a small bowl. There I sit to watch and call. 30 minutes into my routine there is a single rifle shot from the general direction of my partner. Part of me hopes it is him as he is so excited to take a bull, having only had cow draws in the recent past, however another part is not yet ready for this adventure to end. I guess I’ll find out around lunch.

I continue with my patient game, cow calling often but bugling very sparingly. Another hour passes and I am considering moving when there is another shot, followed by a second. Both these from the same general direction as the first shot an hour ago, only appearing more distant. Oh, oh. Either this is not my partner, or we are in for some serious work! I decide to shift locations and try some more. Same results. My thoughts wander to the load in my rifle, no doubt brought on by the rains last evening. Did I do enough to protect it? Will it be reliable when called upon? Will it even actually be called upon? Give your head a shake! It will be reliable and it will get the opportunity, you’re just a little off tilt from the lack of elk action the last few days! I take a moment and relax. Things will come around. Finally I concede another morning to the elk and slowly work my way back to camp.

Upon arrival I find my partner still out. Perhaps that was him? I break out the pan and start frying up onions with potatoes which I will follow up with four fried eggs. Breakfast is my favourite meal as eggs are easy on my system. I am finished eating before my partner arrives. He fixes himself a strong black coffee and enlightens me on the shots. It seems there were two different parties, one hunting from the river that fired the first shot and the other two shots came from a party hunting across the river. He didn’t see anything either, but lots of tracks of elk activity. They are still here, just better at hide n’seek than us..

Afternoon brings a social visit from a neighbouring camp. It’s a real good friend and his brother, who established their camp spot 10 years ago, and approximately 8 miles from ours. We established years ago an unwritten boundary between our camps so that we don’t mess each other up when calling. They report on their level of activity, including the success on a large 7x7 bull, and listen to ours. They too are seeing quite an influx of new hunters in the area, along with a word of caution regarding one group in particular, and their “hunting practices.” We then spend the rest of the afternoon retelling the same old hunting stories of past years. Finally its an early supper, the last of the moose steaks and potatoes with carrots wrapped and baked in the coals of the fire. Came out excellent!

The evening again finds me at the Perch where I call and watch. I only hope the rains stay away this time. It has been cool and overcast all afternoon, but high cloud so it should be good. The wind never fully dies but the clouds disperse and it looks like it will be a clear cold night once again. At one time the river ran high on these banks, way up high where I sit. The rocks in the soil are all very old river rocks, and I spy a flat one roughly the size of my open hand. I pick it up and examine closely. It is extremely smooth and my curiosity arouses as I pull out my forged roach belly knife to see if the rock will hone the edge. This is a very good knife made by a fellow goes by “Two Feathers,” and was used on both the bear and the son-in-laws elk, and held an edge throughout. I did touch it up after each animal but it is the best knife I’ve ever owned. This rock however did not treat the edge well. I toss it aside and vow to retouch the edge tonight in camp.

Darkness comes and I’ve seen nothing. I start on the trail back for camp and find where two elk have crossed behind me this evening. Foiled yet again!!

Back in camp my partner is already there. He reports no sightings as well.

We spend the evening in idle talk around the campfire. Both knowing our trip is coming to a close, and we are striving to get as much time in as possible. Friday morning will be the last hunt. Then I will head over to spend a day or so with my grandkids before heading home.
 
Sept 23, day 8...
We spend the evening in idle talk around the campfire. Both knowing our trip is coming to a close, and we are striving to get as much time in as possible. Friday morning will be the last hunt. Then I will head over to spend a day or so with my grandkids before heading home.

Walkingeagle, with 3-1/2 hunting days remaining, I believe what you said: "I take a moment and relax....Things will come around."
 
Sept 24, day 9...

Quite warm and cozy in the tent last night thanks to my partners aging bladder. When I step outside I discover it is cold, almost at freezing temps. Tea and breakfast then off for the hunt.

By this time there is little of our regular haunts which I have not spent time in, and we formulate a plan which involves the area around the Perch. However as we slowly walk that direction we come across fresh elk tracks headed East. We change the plan to him sitting at the Perch with me pursuing the elk tracks. These are on a trail I know well, in fact one I hunted a few days back. I will follow the same route and eventually pop out just below the Perch, where we will walk back to camp together. Plan made and we are off our separate ways.

Only a few hundred yards into my trail, the elk venture off on a thin side trail. I hum and haw as I weigh the options and consequences of following or not. I have spent time in the area these elk are headed. It is thick with lots of blowdowns, dense underbrush and curse words. I’ve never heard so many curse words as the last time I ventured through those woods! I do remember that upon exiting, a vow to never again enter. Now here I am exactly one year later. Am I really that dumb? Yup, here we go again..

I start in on the thin trail and break through the thick wall of aspen shoots/alder/rose hips/willows that are all competing for the limited sunlight available at the forests edge. Not too far in, and once past the thick edge vegetation I discover this thin trail is actually very heavily used. Maybe 16” wide and bare dirt. Wow! This area is exclusively mixed poplar with a few spruce as well white birch. The undergrowth is a steady blanket of hazelnut bushes, as is the entire area not covered in pine or spruce. The wind the last few days has likely removed 25% of the leaves, and visibility has improved greatly. I slowly work this trail, eyes probing and ears attentive. The light wind is perfect, in my face and steady. I cow chirp and sit often to just observe. Nothing, so I continue on, repeating this routine. Off in the distance to my North, I hear the grunt of a moose. Mustn’t be too far with the wind as it is. Oh if I had the moose draw I think this fellow would be sizzling in the pan very soon. Bull moose rifle season opened this morning for those fortunate enough to be drawn, and I wonder how many rifle shots I will hear. At one of my rest spots there is an old fallen poplar log, limbs still holding it perfect hight for a chair while I call. Ten minutes in one of the limbs break and my chair drops eight inches while my heart jumps a foot! I guess nature is telling me to get off my butt. I will listen and oblige, and off I go. Suddenly I hear the sharp crack of a step. I cannot see the source as it is in a shallow alder choked draw 60 yards to my left quarter, but my wait is not long. A cow elk breaks out and bolts across in front of me headed southwest. I wait, rifle ready for the bull that never follows. She was alone. I continue onward, same routine. Soft cow calls, watch and wait, move then repeat, ever working southeast. There is another moose grunting to my South now. Nice to hear the forest alive in the cool morning.

As the day progresses the wind starts to pick up as well. The sun is getting higher in the East as it starts its crescent to the South and eventually will fall into the forest directly West. There is not a cloud in the sky. I continue with my slow travel, call, wait and watch routine. You know, I have not heard one cuss word! These elk have that thick stuff figured out, and the trail system in here is huge. “The animals must be evolving,” I think to myself. “When I was younger this style of hunting yielded more game for me than it does now. Now, I hardly see anything nor hear anything! Darn smarter animals.” I continue until my quest leads me to the trail below the Perch. My partner is sitting where he said he would and reports there was no activity. We slowly work our way back to camp as our stomachs are doing more talking than we.

After lunch I build a fire with my flint and steel. Start by gathering some real dry Old Mans Beard (the mossy stuff in old spruce trees) along with small dry spruce branches, until I have a handful. Next larger branches, followed by even larger. I do cheat and use char cloth, but two strikes, a little gentle air and we’re off to the races. I have gathered some dry punk wood and will take advantage of this fire to make up some charred punk. Got to always replenish from the inventory. Taking from the bank without putting back will leave a man destitute!

There is a single rifle shot only a couple hundred yards from camp. A few minutes later a follow up. I suspect there is a dead moose close by. Confirmed, my friend that visited yesterday got the bull that I suspect was with the cow I heard yesterday morning. I had told him where he could find it while he was here. Season opened and closed in one day for him. Now his work begins. I offer our assistance but he has help in the form of a wife, father and two brothers already on route. They make quick work and are off to care for the meat.

We head out for the evening hunt, and the wind has once again picked up. Swirling like crazy in the bush and calling will be futile, so I decide to slowly stalk various game trails, trying to keep my nose to the wind. My partner has opted for a stand being his knees are sore. Still hunting, as I am doing, involves only a few steps followed by lots of looking and listening. Listening is out of the question due to the wind, and movement is everywhere, but the plus side is mine is masked as well. You need to focus on seeing an animal’s parts, an ear, antler tine, face, rump, etc before they detect you. You will not see a whole animal in the bush. I am proof of that, as I definitely can’t see them! Lol. The wind dies and I start cow chirping. Now I can hear, and what I hear is a large animal moving off to my left. I search hard for movement with no success. It continues on so I take a chance and work that way, cow chirping as I go. It does not stop and I come to the trail it was utilizing. There the track is obvious, lone cow elk was just moving through. Success in the fact she didn’t recognize me as human at least. I push on. The sun has now set below the forest and there is only a few precious minutes left before my iron sights cannot be seen. I enter onto a main trail I know well and figure to start hunting my way back to camp. Wonder how my partner made out? I did not hear a single shot this evening, however the wind was bad for a while.

Back at camp with sore legs and tired feet. Lots of walking. Partner had np success either. Bring on tomorrow...
 
The details of the sights and sounds, the step-by-step experience of your hunting time today was invigorating...from the ease of my desk chair, of course! I'm definitely not as sore and weary as you are. But to be included and brought along with you was special.

Yes, agree with your forward look of "bring on tomorrow!" Best of hunting....sure hope you harvest on the morrow.
wiksmo
 
Sept 25, day 10...

Nature calling once again, darn tea! Wind is still blowing, actually quite strong, and overcast sky. Appears it rained a bit at some point. Does not seem too cold out. Back in the tent for a bit more sleep.

Breakfast and tea again. Wind has died right down and the sky has cleared. I am in a state of uncertainty as to where to head this morning. My partner wishes to sit the Perch again, so I tell him I will “head that way,” as I point in a sweeping motion from North through East until South. He laughs and says, “ok.” “Good luck,” and we’re off. I start out on a trail Northward from camp then jump on one headed East, after a short distance there is a pretty good trail that takes off to the Northeast, which I pause at and ponder. My original plan was to follow this Eastern trail to near its end then cut Southward on a fairly well used game trail. I have intersected elk in here before, and the breeze would be favourable for sure, however something is nagging at me to jump on this other trail. I decide to follow my gut. Slowly I work along, not yet calling as I feel I’m not far enough from camp. Besides, I need to get somewhere the breeze is not against me. Silently I walk along, I hear a bull moose grunting again to the North, and more migrating geese headed South high overhead. What am I doing? This breeze wont work for this trail? I gaze up at the geese, they are high and definitely not stopping anytime soon. Our neighbours to the South should have an excellent goose season this fall, there have been a bunch this year! As I am lost focusing on the geese I hear a step, followed by another. My eyes scan. This animal is close and walking parallel to myself. What is it? Dark front, tan hide, light butt, ELK, and close! My eyes search ahead for an opening, there, I wait and it finally walks through. BULL, lets see, one, two, more... yup legal but has now moved past the lane. I silently sneak ahead several yards, another lane and this one a little bigger. Up comes my rifle, silently cocking as I raise and I wait. I can see sporadic tan movement and know he’s still coming. Finally he slips into the opening, my eyes confirm its the same animal, “snick” and the trigger is set. The elk freezes at the sound, still unaware I am even here, full broadside and searching for the source before committing to another step. Sights settle tight behind the front shoulder, BAMM! There is no hesitation, confirming I did my part in properly protecting the load during the rainfall a few days back. Smoke hangs in the air as the elk bolts, crashing through the underbrush. I quickly cow call, and again. The elk stops and I hear the loud struggle for air, then a crash. I reload carefully as I do not wish to rush and make an error. I start counting the paces to where the elk was at the shot. 26 paces, and blood confirming the location, I slowly start to follow the easy trail. 42 paces and there he lies, no need for a follow up. I pause and give thanks. Then start to admire my trophy. Not anything to brag about, a simple little 5x4 raghorn meat bull, but my trophy non the less. I am proud.

After a bit it is time to start the work, and isn’t long before my partner shows up to assist. Together we make short work in breaking it down and securing the meat. Then back to camp for a good meal and start breaking things down. Too warm to hang so our trip is now over.

A mere couple hours later things are all packed in our “mules” and goodbyes are said, along with promises of seeing each other again next year. I reflect on the trip as I pull out, and my friends statement one cold morning. “God I love this place!”

Bring on the grandkids...
 
My trophy...
 

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My Two Feathers (member here) Roach Belly knife. I did two elk and one bear with only light touch ups. Highly recommend his product.
The shot perfectly broadside and pass through. Did not touch a shoulder.
 

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