What a year so far! Dave and Donnelle hunted hard during archery. We had our chances. Here are a few of the stories.

On the second day of the season (it rained the first day) we ran into 13 different groups of elk on the mountain we were hunting. We saw many, many elk in including 4 5x5’s. You archery hunters will relate to seeing elk but not getting the right shot. We actually became a little disoriented (politically correct hunting term for lost) on our way back. We ended up walking about a mile below our camp. During the walk, we were trying to get our GPS to work and kept looking down at the unit trying to get a reading. At our last stop Donnelle was looking down at her GPS when a 5x5 stood up out of his bed and scared us all. He trotted off while we contemplated tossing the GPS.

Here’s one for the "no way" category. Donnelle and I walked out into a large meadow. She needed to tie her boots so she handed her bow to me (I didn’t have a tag for this area). There was a small ridge in the lower end of the meadow so I slipped up to the edge of the ridge. After Donnelle finished tying her boots she took out her video camera to take a video of the area. I turned around to strike a pose for the video and low and behold a 5x5 was walking down behind her. I have it on camera. I’m pointing trying to get her attention while the camera rolls. What was she going to do, throw a rock? I had her bow. I’ll try to get the video posted soon.

I had a draw tag this year in Southern Colorado and spent the last week of archery season in the woods. I think it was one of the best hunts ever. I bugled and called with at least 20 bulls. It took about 5 days to find where they were then another 3 to figure out how to hunt them.

This year the big snow during the last two weeks drove the elk down early. I took a hike up to "bull gulch" to only see tracks and sign of elk moving down. On morning Chuck and I had emerged from the woods onto a well-traveled gravel road. We were both tired but I told Chuck "I’m going to cow call just for fun". I chirped and did an estrus call and a bull lit up about 300 yards down hill. We knew there was a meadow in that direction but had never paid attention to it. Being so close to the road there were usually one or two hunters perched in the meadow on their ATV trying to find elk who can’t hear or smell (go figure). It was 10:30 am. We were totally shocked when the bull started moving toward us.

I dropped into the trees and started making my way toward the bull. He was moving up to me on an opposite ridge. We moved to within 50 yards of each other. Then the bull started moving back down the ridge to the meadow. I followed him down to the meadow hoping he would stay interested. What a rush. I moved to the inside edge of the meadow behind a pine tree and called. He was in the middle of the meadow bugling and pawing. He wanted what I was selling but wouldn’t come any close than 100 yds. I called for at least 5 minutes, he paced back and forth gazing intently for a sign of a real cow.

After an eternal 5 minutes he trotted off. Did I mention he was a 6x6 and his royal tine had to be at least 18 inches. He was the biggest bull I’ve seen in the wild, absolutely huge. But that’s not where it ends. Thirty seconds after he trotted off I saw a cow trotting my way with the big boy behind her. He had his head down and was pushing her toward me. He stopped, again at 100 yards, and the cow kept moving right toward me. She came over to check me out. She walked to the edge of the trees, just about 10 yards from me and paced back and forth, looking right at me. After about 20 seconds she put her nose in the air, shook her head, and trotted over to the big guy. He turned and trotted with her, glancing over his should as if to say "I knew it". Truly the smartest beast I’ve encountered yet.

Chuck and I checked out the meadow edges that evening, before the big snow. We found a rub, either from that big guy or another, where 1.5" branches were broken off 7ft above the ground. Now, Chuck and I have told our share of fish stories and I heard a bunch more on this trip, but this is no lie. I hunted him for the next two days and never saw him again. I think I heard him a couple of times but the senses aren’t as reliable after you’ve seen the "big one". Man he was big.

I did get a shot. Below this article you can see my bull from last year. Ten minutes into opening morning I had him. I waited until the last cotton picken night of archery in 2006 to get my shot. I had the byline all figured out. "From the first day to the last day".

Chuck and I had played with 3 bulls on a ridge two nights in a row. They would not move down until after dark. The last night we decided to change our tactics. All week we had been able to get bulls to answer with a locator bugle but they wouldn’t approach. The cows would move through the area but the bulls were shy. We could get them interested with an estrus call but could not get them to come in to close the deal.

I put Chuck in the lower part of a meadow we call "Dallas" meadow. It was higher up the mountain, close to where the bulls were getting vocal the previous two evenings. We were practicing the normal tactics of advancing the hunter in front of the caller about 30 yards. I decided to tell Chuck "Don’t bugle, just do an occasional estrus call". I moved up above Chuck into the trees about 100 yards.

About 30 minutes before dark I heard a crackle and scramble like an elk getting wind of a hunter. I looked to see what would be running up the hill but didn’t see anything. I was curious so I stayed in place for a long 10 minutes before I saw his feet below a pine. I didn’t know he was a "he" but I had an either sex tag and there were no point restrictions. I determined that that elk was mine. After the first 10 minutes he started to move slowly. My eyes were barely focusing in the haze of the trees but I saw him. I first thought "big cow, very big cow". Then I saw his horns, he was a very nice 5x5. Not as big as last year but hey, it was the last night.

He moved slowly toward me and stopped at about 15 yards. As if to comply with the elk survival manual he stopped with only his shoulder exposed between two aspen trees. I cycled the possibilities through my head – my broad head really could make it through the shoulder blade, I could hit the spine from here, I also thought about shooting his neck. None of these were good shots so I just pulled and held. He started to walk slowly across in front of me. I lead him and released. He was mine, except for that little branch that I lead him right into. I released and heard "tick tick" then a rustle of branches beyond. I knew what happened right away. He didn’t know but that didn’t matter, he was out of there. I followed his tracks, thankfully in snow, just on the bare chance that I didn’t hear what I thought I heard, not a chance, I missed.

I did find one thing amusing. What I though earlier was a spooked animal was only the bull moving down the steep hill. He had stepped on one of those wonderful small downed logs just under the snow and fell right on his butt. His tracks told the story. It made me feel just a little better about my numerous occasions landing on my back after such an encounter and wondering "why do I do this". Well, I addicted. I didn’t get a bull but had the absolute time of my life. What a rush, what a rush.

Donnelle shot her first Antelope this year. When she was walking up to this buck (after the shot) another large buck struck a pose at 100yds. Isn’t that the way it happens? Next year!

A friend of ours, Mark, went up to the same elk area for first rifle season. He repeated the hunts Chuck and I mapped out. Below is his 6x6 he shot (public land) in the big guy’s meadow. Way to go Mark!