32Ballew
New member
- Sep 9, 2019
- 5
?Did you hear that?!? A smile lights up his face, eyes wide and excited. Way off in the distance it?s his first bugle. I?ve been waiting 12 years for this. My first born son, my new hunting partner is hooked. This season is only five minutes old and it?s already a success.
The bull moves over the ridge. I know exactly where he?s headed. There?s a bowl that?s burned out, a spring at the bottom. I was on elk there a few years ago. He?s bugling every couple minutes. ?Let?s go get him? I say with confidence.
The wind is blowing hard and in our favor. Down a finger ridge we work. Barren and desolate to our left. Green and shaded to our right. Red slurry from a firefight eight years ago paint the sandstone rocks. This one is as big as a VW bus, carved by the wind like Swiss cheese.
I?ve been practicing for months and the calls come with ease, without thought or effort. The bull whistles again and again leading us in. This is almost too easy. My best buddy follows step by step. He kicks my heel just as I did to my dad decades earlier in these same hills. I can hear him under his breath, ?this is so cool?.
A small, flat clearing at the end of the ridge has us inside 100 yards. I set up in front of some buck brush. 30 yards from the dead standing timber in all directions, Cooper at my side. I let out another cow call. A scream followed by deep chuckles raise the hair on my neck. He?s on the move, circling down wind. I whisper ?we have to move Coop?. Quickly we scamper to the head of a draw. We barely beat him there. His head tilts back and to the side ducking a branch. Dark chocolate with ivory tips, it?s a good bull. My heart is jumping. I can literally feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My hands shake uncontrollably. I nock an arrow and draw. He?s close now, top pin for sure. He catches my movement, turns and jumps away. A sharp cow call stops him broadside. Still top pin? I?m not sure so second pin it is. I cut it lose. ?Did I hit him? I frantically ask Cooper. The bull bugles from across the creek. Dang it, screwed up another one. It all happened so quickly. My arrow is stuck in a tree with no blood. It was only 18 yards. He must have been inside 10 yards when he jumped. It don?t get any easier than that.
I?ve let him down. I want to plant the seed. I want him to share my passion. I want a partner. I?m tired of hunting by myself. This is my 16th archery season and I?ve been so close on mature bulls so many times, I?ve lost count. I?ve killed a couple small bulls and a few cows, but I want a mature six point. Even more though, I want to be successful with my boy here so he can see what it?s all about. I?m deflated and disappointed in myself. That could be my best chance all year. What now? The pressure mounts.
Back at the 4 wheeler it?s raining. I?m bummed out, ready to call it a day. Cooper is upbeat. ?That was awesome? he says with an energetic smile.
?Ok here is the deal? I tell him. ?Up the road there is a spot that I know they like to bed down in. We can head back to camp for a nap and check it out this evening after it quits raining or maybe tomorrow.?
He quickly replies ?Can we go there now dad?? The winds gust a little harder.
It?s a long steep climb but he?s all in. I let him set the pace. I?m tired, quads and calves burning with each step. I?m worried about tomorrow?s energy. He keeps climbing. I missed a good bull here two years ago and my mind replays the image of him running off into the darkness.
We ease through a saddle. The brisk wind hits me in the face. Real easy now. One step, glass. Another step, glass. Another step, brown! Could it be? Is it? Through the binoculars I see a cow bedded. Another step. There?s more. I look, it?s a bull, and it?s a big one. I can only see one side of his antlers reaching out from behind a tree. He?s not a six but a seven or is it eight. ?Cooper, if this works out, that?ll be a good miss this morning? I tell him.
The old growth stand of ponderosa pine is thick and so dark the neon green lichen seems to glow. A half step back and I can?t see the cow or the bull. If we can stay behind these trees and get down to that little ridge we?ll be close. It?s our only play. ?Stay right behind me Coop?. Easy does it. I?m sure we?ll be busted by a satellite bull, another cow or a deer. It happens often on spot and stock hunts. We sneak, we crawl, we climb over and under deadfall. It?s 11:00. He?s at 112 yard. We can?t get any closer.
I relay the plan ?he?s really big Cooper. Get comfortable. I?m just going to cow call for a while. He might not get up until this evening. Take a nap if you want.?
I was right. No action. 11:20. The rain picks up and I?m already getting cold. Screw it, I give out the smallest, weakest bugle I can. He?s up! Behind him, out of view, another bull answers. I look at Coop. Under the green plastic poncho he might actually be sleeping. I look for the bull but he?s gone. I?ve run him off. Exactly what I was worried about. Nope, there he is! Raking a tree, he?s moved closer. The bull behind him bugles again. I cut him off with my own, a little more aggressive this time. Things are happening fast now. Here he comes. Arrow nocked. 30 yards to that tree, 35 to another. He?s still coming. Head high and proud, he?s really strutting his stuff. I try to ignore the massive rack. He moves behind the 35 yard tree, I draw. There?s an opening, I cow call. He stops and looks right at me. This is it, make it count. Cooper wakes. Relax your hand I think to myself. The wind pushes the top of my bow and then the bottom. Get it together, my grip tightens. Red pin is 35 and it?s only there for a fraction of a second before the arrow is on the way. Feels good! I can see it spinning through the air, right on target. Boom, it connects and it?s out the other side! I can see the green nock shining from the ground. The bull rears up like a rodeo bronc, wheels and bolts back the way he came. I can see a dot of blood centered in the rib cage. Cows scatter. There?s a thunder of hooves thumping the ground. An eruption of breaking branches. Chaos. Then in an instant, silence. Finally! I think I might have a big bull down and it?s worth the wait to have my son here! He jumps into my arms. Hugs and tears, we start to celebrate!
They say to wait an hour but with the rain we get down to the arrow after 20 minutes. It?s missing a fletching. Not as much blood as I thought there would be.
Was it too high? I range and it was only 31 yards. My mind starts to play games. I lost a big bull a few years ago. Devastated and depressed for months, I nearly quit hunting all together. I can?t go through that again. The rain is coming down sideways now. Let?s start looking for blood.
It?s 50 yards before Coop says ?here he is?. It?s not much but enough to follow.
100 yards later, lots of blood. Then it?s gone. Here?s a little. I touch it and show Cooper. I explain ?if it gets on your finger, it?s blood, if not, it?s not?. We take a guess and head down a trail but there?s nothing. We regroup where we last seen blood. ?Here he is, this way.? This goes on for a quarter mile over a hour and a half.
We crest the next ridge. Muddy tracks in the game trail to the left of some deadfall. More tracks to the right but no blood. I?m starting to have real doubts. Then Cooper points and pipes up in excitement ?look at all the blood!? The bull has run right through the downed trees.
Instantly reinvigorate, I tell him ?he?s running blind, no blood to his brain, he?s dead on his feet?. The trail heads down hill but soon it?s gone. Optimistic again ?I don?t think he?s far Cooper. Let?s just go down the draw here and see if we can get lucky.? Sure enough there he is. We are only 20 yards away when I see him.
The left side of his antlers rise straight up from the ground, his giant body hidden by the wet, green brush. It?s an eight and he?s beautiful! I pause in disbelief. A little respect is in order. We kneel at his side to give thanks. A life taken. A few more tears. They are so majestic, wild and wise. We soak it in. We talk about how fortunate we are to be here on public land, not far from home. There is nothing like it in the world. What a day it?s been. Let?s get a few pictures.
We lift the head. Seven by eight. ?Can you believe it?? I ask us both. More pictures.
He?s already stiff. He died in a matter of seconds. It?s time to get to work. Knives out, class is in session. ?Here, Cooper hold his leg please....?
A surreal experience we all dream of. Probably a once in a lifetime bull. Hopefully not. Either way it?s meat for a year. We did it. Normally I?d be dejected at camp but it was 12 year old Cooper that kept things positive. He kept us going. He?s everything that I preach to be, but sometimes fail to be. I?m really proud of the young man he?s becoming. This bull is just as much his as it is mine. We definitely wouldn?t be here if it wasn?t for him. That seed is planted, he?s hooked and I?ve found my partner. For 12 years he?s been making me a better man. Now he?s making me a better hunter. Success! Next year it might be him letting it fly and if it is, I?ll be even more excited than I am now.
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