DrMike
Ballistician
- Nov 8, 2006
- 37,159
- 5,608
Well, it is Thanksgiving Day in Canada. Since my wife is gone, I ate a fine meal at a good diner and then went hunting in one of my favourite hunting grounds. Gil (my trusty native guide) and his lovely bride, Susan, came over from Grande Prairie about two this afternoon. Susan and I enjoyed a cup of coffee (Gil is a non-coffee type of fellow (Yuck!)) and then loaded up for a forty-five minute drive to a favourite area. We spoke with some friends briefly where we learned that the area we intended to hunt had a couple hunting already. We opted to go to another nearby area and see what we might see. We found a sizable bachelor herd of mule deer (mule deer open on November 1). Among the herd was an old friend. He is a mature buck that has been a large forkhorn most years. This year, he is a 4 X 3. We've wanted to remove him from the gene pool for some time in order to improve the antler count. He is the largest buck in this area, and he has bred successfully each year. Adding a tine makes him legal, and so I believe he can be removed to improve the herd this year. There are a number of younger bucks with five points or so, but they are not nearly as large. I hope to be in the area on November 1 and tag this big ol' buck.
We travelled on to an area where we have seen quite a few elk in the past, though I've only encountered one young cow there this year. We put out three decoys and doused ourselves with the elixir of elk (Susan gagged and made an awful fuss about the smell, but Gil and I agreed that it was the aroma of the most intensely imaginable pleasures). Despite her reservations about being in the company of such connoisseurs of haute odeur, she managed to stay with Gil. I set up about 80 yards in front and to the left of Gil. He gave a couple of soft mews, and suddenly, there was a spiker standing at the edge of the bush. The little bull surveyed the area, and when he had assured himself that there was nothing untoward in the meadow, he began to graze. He fed for at least thirty minutes, lifting his head occasionally for reassurance that the decoys were still present. We could hear other animals in the woods. As they moved about, there was occasional noise. Each time, the young bull would look behind him and continue grazing. It was a good sign that there were other elk present.
After about thirty minutes, suddenly there was a cow, and another, coming out of the bush, eager to feed. Right behind them was a nice young bull--a 5X5. I was carrying my 270 WSM, loaded with my hunting load built around the 130 grain E-Tip. I launch these bullets at 3250 fps, and they give me a consistent 0.4 inch group. He moved briskly across my front, following the cows. Immediately behind him was a mule deer doe, who looked toward the field and then stepped back into the bush. Behind her were three whitetail. I carefully settled the crosshairs of my scope on the bull, waiting for the best shot. I had ranged landmarks in the area, and he would pass 176 yards in front of me if he maintained the course he was on. He paused, momentarily hidden from Gil's view, but perfectly broadside for me. I aimed for the point of the shoulder, and gently squeezed the trigger. It was a picture perfect shot. The whitetail gave alarm snorts for almost a full minutes after the shot. The other elk milled about, uncertain what had just happened, taking at least fifteen seconds before they finally slipped back into the bush. The bull turned, took perhaps two steps, and toppled to his left. He did not move again.
At that, Gil gave me a thumbs up, stood up and began to walk toward the elk. As we walked, he asked me why I waited so long to pull the trigger. "Well," I responded, "I saw those whitetail, and I was thinking I might just be able to get a two-fer this evening." "Don't get greedy," he snorted. It was good for a laugh.
Here is the bull. Susan took some photos, and I'll post one or two of her photos when she forwards them to me. I will have one with Gil in the picture. He is a special friend, just like a son to me, and is almost always there when I drop game.
I recovered the bullet this time. It punched the near shoulder, passing just under the spine and stopping just beneath the flesh on the opposing shoulder. The recovered weight is 128.96 grains (over 99% weight retention) and the bullet expanded to 0.600 inches at the broadest point.
I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving elk. Oh, friends told me there is a nice little porky forky moose hanging around, and moose opens again on the fifteenth, unless I want to take my crossbow to see if I can get him with that.
We travelled on to an area where we have seen quite a few elk in the past, though I've only encountered one young cow there this year. We put out three decoys and doused ourselves with the elixir of elk (Susan gagged and made an awful fuss about the smell, but Gil and I agreed that it was the aroma of the most intensely imaginable pleasures). Despite her reservations about being in the company of such connoisseurs of haute odeur, she managed to stay with Gil. I set up about 80 yards in front and to the left of Gil. He gave a couple of soft mews, and suddenly, there was a spiker standing at the edge of the bush. The little bull surveyed the area, and when he had assured himself that there was nothing untoward in the meadow, he began to graze. He fed for at least thirty minutes, lifting his head occasionally for reassurance that the decoys were still present. We could hear other animals in the woods. As they moved about, there was occasional noise. Each time, the young bull would look behind him and continue grazing. It was a good sign that there were other elk present.
After about thirty minutes, suddenly there was a cow, and another, coming out of the bush, eager to feed. Right behind them was a nice young bull--a 5X5. I was carrying my 270 WSM, loaded with my hunting load built around the 130 grain E-Tip. I launch these bullets at 3250 fps, and they give me a consistent 0.4 inch group. He moved briskly across my front, following the cows. Immediately behind him was a mule deer doe, who looked toward the field and then stepped back into the bush. Behind her were three whitetail. I carefully settled the crosshairs of my scope on the bull, waiting for the best shot. I had ranged landmarks in the area, and he would pass 176 yards in front of me if he maintained the course he was on. He paused, momentarily hidden from Gil's view, but perfectly broadside for me. I aimed for the point of the shoulder, and gently squeezed the trigger. It was a picture perfect shot. The whitetail gave alarm snorts for almost a full minutes after the shot. The other elk milled about, uncertain what had just happened, taking at least fifteen seconds before they finally slipped back into the bush. The bull turned, took perhaps two steps, and toppled to his left. He did not move again.
At that, Gil gave me a thumbs up, stood up and began to walk toward the elk. As we walked, he asked me why I waited so long to pull the trigger. "Well," I responded, "I saw those whitetail, and I was thinking I might just be able to get a two-fer this evening." "Don't get greedy," he snorted. It was good for a laugh.
Here is the bull. Susan took some photos, and I'll post one or two of her photos when she forwards them to me. I will have one with Gil in the picture. He is a special friend, just like a son to me, and is almost always there when I drop game.
I recovered the bullet this time. It punched the near shoulder, passing just under the spine and stopping just beneath the flesh on the opposing shoulder. The recovered weight is 128.96 grains (over 99% weight retention) and the bullet expanded to 0.600 inches at the broadest point.
I am truly thankful for this Thanksgiving elk. Oh, friends told me there is a nice little porky forky moose hanging around, and moose opens again on the fifteenth, unless I want to take my crossbow to see if I can get him with that.
