Dr. Vette
Handloader
- Apr 16, 2012
- 1,481
- 369
This year Dad and I went to Colorado for elk hunting. While we've driven through, we've not had a chance to hunt in Colorado so far. Our base of operations was in Wellington, north of Fort Collins, with an outfitter there.
We had the pleasure of meeting Fotis for lunch on Friday, Oct 13th and had a great time talking and sharing stories.
On opening morning, Saturday the 14th, we got up early and rode with the outfitter to the ranch we were going to be hunting. Stopping along a gravel road, he lowered the windows and we could hear elk in the distance making a lot of noise such as calling, mewing, etc. Once he had an idea which direction they were going we headed off, left the truck and climbed a hill to watch them come through. The noise they were making was incredible! Over the next few minutes we watched 300+ elk walk by, the closest being about 275 yards away but blocked by brush. In addition, there was a stiff 20+ mph crosswind. They all climbed a different hill in front of us, and walked over the top to the area where they usually spend the day. We went to check them out, but there was no way we were going to sneak up on all those eyes.
The guide knew that frequently a smaller group of elk would split off and head for another hill. So, we drove the truck over and watched a few elk disappear around that hill. To get to the other side we then drove all the way around in the other direction, and counted 22 elk on the steep face. There were some bulls, at least one really good one, and some cows. We couldn't walk at them across open ground, and couldn't walk down from above as it was too steep. So, we decided to try walking down from above to a bench that ran parallel to them and see if we could get a shot.
Back around the hill we drove (these hills are hundreds of feet tall, but might not qualify as mountains) and up the back side where there was one access road running almost to the top. We parked, and headed up the last bit of hill. Dad was originally going to stay behind due to the steepness and the wind, but I convinced him to come along as far as he could.
The top bench of this hill is around 200y wide by 600y long, and we entered from one corner. We'd walked around 200 yards when our guide said "Get down!" and we did. Looking ahead, bull elk were walking over the lip of the hill and onto the top one-by-one. I prepared for a possible shot by ranging them and getting my shooting sticks out, and the guide and I discussed which one I might take. Suddenly 2 more elk came up, and the #5 bull was the big one! We watched him, but he was blocked by other bulls most of the time. Once he was broadside and open I took the shot. He froze, and then lay down facing away from us but his head up. The rest of the bulls then left except for one. For the next 15-20 min he stood over my bull like a guard, facing toward us. Dad took this time to crawl over and talk, and watched the second bull intently. The more he watched the second bull the more he liked him. Once we had distance and wind calculations set, he prepared to shoot.
Eventually the second bull moved a bit, and Dad took a good broadside shot. The elk started to run so Dad took a second shot and it dropped like a rock just before it would have gone over the edge of the hill. First shot ended up exploding the heart (really) and the second took out the spine.
My bull then got up, and I eventually hit him with a second shot. Down he went again, and we started to go towards him. Of course, he got up a 3rd time and went over the edge before I could make another shot.
We took photos and field dressed Dad's bull, then loaded it onto the truck. Back down the hill we drove and around to look at the steep face. We found my bull about halfway down, head still up. At that point we decided to bring Dad's bull to the processor, grab lunch and come back to my then-likely-to-be-dead bull.
Sure enough, upon our return my bull had rolled down the hillside a bit but he was dead. Based on his lack of stiffness I suspect that he hadn't been gone long. It then took from 4:30 to 9:30 to cut him up and pack him down the hill. FYI, he had two good hits in him, the second being double lung, and he still took a long time to die. Though I've heard the stories I was still amazed how much it took to kill him.
All in all it was a great hunt, and we then spent the next few days sightseeing and attempting an antelope hunt in WY in an area that turned out to have a lot more mule deer than antelope.
Patrick
We had the pleasure of meeting Fotis for lunch on Friday, Oct 13th and had a great time talking and sharing stories.
On opening morning, Saturday the 14th, we got up early and rode with the outfitter to the ranch we were going to be hunting. Stopping along a gravel road, he lowered the windows and we could hear elk in the distance making a lot of noise such as calling, mewing, etc. Once he had an idea which direction they were going we headed off, left the truck and climbed a hill to watch them come through. The noise they were making was incredible! Over the next few minutes we watched 300+ elk walk by, the closest being about 275 yards away but blocked by brush. In addition, there was a stiff 20+ mph crosswind. They all climbed a different hill in front of us, and walked over the top to the area where they usually spend the day. We went to check them out, but there was no way we were going to sneak up on all those eyes.
The guide knew that frequently a smaller group of elk would split off and head for another hill. So, we drove the truck over and watched a few elk disappear around that hill. To get to the other side we then drove all the way around in the other direction, and counted 22 elk on the steep face. There were some bulls, at least one really good one, and some cows. We couldn't walk at them across open ground, and couldn't walk down from above as it was too steep. So, we decided to try walking down from above to a bench that ran parallel to them and see if we could get a shot.
Back around the hill we drove (these hills are hundreds of feet tall, but might not qualify as mountains) and up the back side where there was one access road running almost to the top. We parked, and headed up the last bit of hill. Dad was originally going to stay behind due to the steepness and the wind, but I convinced him to come along as far as he could.
The top bench of this hill is around 200y wide by 600y long, and we entered from one corner. We'd walked around 200 yards when our guide said "Get down!" and we did. Looking ahead, bull elk were walking over the lip of the hill and onto the top one-by-one. I prepared for a possible shot by ranging them and getting my shooting sticks out, and the guide and I discussed which one I might take. Suddenly 2 more elk came up, and the #5 bull was the big one! We watched him, but he was blocked by other bulls most of the time. Once he was broadside and open I took the shot. He froze, and then lay down facing away from us but his head up. The rest of the bulls then left except for one. For the next 15-20 min he stood over my bull like a guard, facing toward us. Dad took this time to crawl over and talk, and watched the second bull intently. The more he watched the second bull the more he liked him. Once we had distance and wind calculations set, he prepared to shoot.
Eventually the second bull moved a bit, and Dad took a good broadside shot. The elk started to run so Dad took a second shot and it dropped like a rock just before it would have gone over the edge of the hill. First shot ended up exploding the heart (really) and the second took out the spine.
My bull then got up, and I eventually hit him with a second shot. Down he went again, and we started to go towards him. Of course, he got up a 3rd time and went over the edge before I could make another shot.
We took photos and field dressed Dad's bull, then loaded it onto the truck. Back down the hill we drove and around to look at the steep face. We found my bull about halfway down, head still up. At that point we decided to bring Dad's bull to the processor, grab lunch and come back to my then-likely-to-be-dead bull.
Sure enough, upon our return my bull had rolled down the hillside a bit but he was dead. Based on his lack of stiffness I suspect that he hadn't been gone long. It then took from 4:30 to 9:30 to cut him up and pack him down the hill. FYI, he had two good hits in him, the second being double lung, and he still took a long time to die. Though I've heard the stories I was still amazed how much it took to kill him.
All in all it was a great hunt, and we then spent the next few days sightseeing and attempting an antelope hunt in WY in an area that turned out to have a lot more mule deer than antelope.
Patrick
