maverick9465
New member
- Mar 29, 2019
- 5
The year was 1985. Two four-year-old boys in Louisiana met for the first time and instantly became best friends. Thirty-four years later those same best friends would spend a week in the mountains of central Utah pursuing elk.
I grew up in a hunting and fishing family, but my buddy did not. We spent countless hours at my grandpa's local sporting goods store listening to hunting and fishing stories, eating wild game and harassing paying customers. Yet for some reason, we never really took up hunting much. Rather, we'd spend our time fishing and golfing. Don't get me wrong, we did a bit of squirrel hunting as teenagers, but that was the extent of our hunting.
Fast forward decades later when both of us were married with four kids and living in separate states. He in Virginia and I in Utah. Then I unexpectedly won an African safari hunt for two. And in thinking about who I might take with me, my buddy immediately came to mind. After a quick phone call to see if he was interested, we immediately began preparing for this adventure.
Unfortunately, the safari I "won" was little more than an intro package to African hunting with a price tag approaching $20K. Yet, we'd already psyched ourselves up for a hunting adventure. So what we were to do?
Enter the Elk 101 course. After hearing about the course on the Elk Talk podcast I asked my buddy if he'd have any interesting in going on an elk hunt. He jumped at the opportunity. So, for the next year he and I prepped physically and intellectually for our first elk hunt. He drew an antlerless tag in a new hunt unit that overlapped with a spike-only unit. So I quickly picked up an OTC spike tag and we both continued our preparations.
We e-scouted through OnX (using Randy Newberg's tips), listened to every Elk Talk podcast and frequently revisited modules on the Elk 101 course. I even picked up a bugle tube and three diaphragm calls from the Elk 101 store and began practicing my calling. We were feeling pretty good about our chances.
October 5 came. I picked up my buddy at the airport and we spent a day hanging out. Then the adventure began. We left my house at 3:30 in the morning for the two-hour drive to the unit. We were loaded to the gills with our gear, food, firewood and unbounded enthusiasm. It was surreal when we both hit the trail in the dark that morning. The moment we'd been prepping for for a year was finally here.
That first day proved to be a rude awakening for us, despite our hearing what we thought was a cow about 10 minutes into the hunt. We hiked 11 miles going from below 6,000 feet to up over 7,000 feet. My buddies boots destroyed his heels, so they were quickly discarded at camp. We saw no fresh elk sign. Lots of old sign, but nothing fresh. We hiked hard to a spring only to find it dry. And the effects of a fire some six years ago were still very evident with large swaths of dead trees and very little living except some cactus and switch grass.
We arrived at camp that night somewhat deflated, but a warm Mountain House meal helped boost our spirits. We woke up the next morning and were at it again, but with a different strategy. We hiked up to a large peak overlooking a valley and spent the next few hours there glassing north-facing slopes. Nada.
That night we quickly feel asleep, but were awoken at 1:30 a.m. to the most glorious, hair-raising sound I'd ever heard. Not 25 yards behind our tent we could hear the clear, unmistakable bugling and chuckling of elk in the nearby alfalfa field. It continued for a long time until I couldn't take it anymore and went outside to see. But the pitch black proved too difficult to see in.
The next morning while wolfing down some freeze-dried sausage and biscuits we heard bugling again. The chase was on, until we realized my buddy had forgotten his tag at home. He made a beeline for the closest DWR office to get a replacement while I headed out on the mountain alone.
As I walked up the mountain in the darkness, I began seeing fresh elk droppings. It started with one pile then another and then another. Then I found some old bedding areas. I was feeling pretty good until I saw a sheepherder bringing his sheep down the very mountain I was climbing. Oh well, it's public land.
Once my buddy made it back and met me on the mountain we continued our search. Then we found it. A huge swath of land loaded with bedding areas and all kinds of fresh sign. We made our way out of there and settled in to glass the area. But no elk.
Now we knew where they seemed to hang out at night and where they seemed to go to get away. We had them! Mother Nature had other ideas. She sent an unseasonably cool cold front that dropped temps into the single digits with wind chill. We knew we were in trouble when we couldn't keep our camp stoves lit in the wind. We weren't prepared for that kind of cold, and had to make the decision to break camp and head for home with intentions of coming back in a day.
Well, the cold never let up and actually got worse. We opted to put the rifles down and picked up the shotguns for a day of grouse hunting. We got into some grouse, but it wasn't the elk we were hoping for. Nevertheless, I sent my buddy home with some elk meat someone had given me, the grouse meat and some meat from a whitetail I shot last winter.
So while we didn't get an elk, let alone see them, we did get something else. And that was a week together in the mountains after not seeing each other for 7 years. Isn't that part of the allure of hunting? Getting to spend time with friends and loved ones in the great outdoors?
We learned a lot and have plans to get back after it again next season. Happy Hunting!
I grew up in a hunting and fishing family, but my buddy did not. We spent countless hours at my grandpa's local sporting goods store listening to hunting and fishing stories, eating wild game and harassing paying customers. Yet for some reason, we never really took up hunting much. Rather, we'd spend our time fishing and golfing. Don't get me wrong, we did a bit of squirrel hunting as teenagers, but that was the extent of our hunting.
Fast forward decades later when both of us were married with four kids and living in separate states. He in Virginia and I in Utah. Then I unexpectedly won an African safari hunt for two. And in thinking about who I might take with me, my buddy immediately came to mind. After a quick phone call to see if he was interested, we immediately began preparing for this adventure.
Unfortunately, the safari I "won" was little more than an intro package to African hunting with a price tag approaching $20K. Yet, we'd already psyched ourselves up for a hunting adventure. So what we were to do?
Enter the Elk 101 course. After hearing about the course on the Elk Talk podcast I asked my buddy if he'd have any interesting in going on an elk hunt. He jumped at the opportunity. So, for the next year he and I prepped physically and intellectually for our first elk hunt. He drew an antlerless tag in a new hunt unit that overlapped with a spike-only unit. So I quickly picked up an OTC spike tag and we both continued our preparations.
We e-scouted through OnX (using Randy Newberg's tips), listened to every Elk Talk podcast and frequently revisited modules on the Elk 101 course. I even picked up a bugle tube and three diaphragm calls from the Elk 101 store and began practicing my calling. We were feeling pretty good about our chances.
October 5 came. I picked up my buddy at the airport and we spent a day hanging out. Then the adventure began. We left my house at 3:30 in the morning for the two-hour drive to the unit. We were loaded to the gills with our gear, food, firewood and unbounded enthusiasm. It was surreal when we both hit the trail in the dark that morning. The moment we'd been prepping for for a year was finally here.
That first day proved to be a rude awakening for us, despite our hearing what we thought was a cow about 10 minutes into the hunt. We hiked 11 miles going from below 6,000 feet to up over 7,000 feet. My buddies boots destroyed his heels, so they were quickly discarded at camp. We saw no fresh elk sign. Lots of old sign, but nothing fresh. We hiked hard to a spring only to find it dry. And the effects of a fire some six years ago were still very evident with large swaths of dead trees and very little living except some cactus and switch grass.
We arrived at camp that night somewhat deflated, but a warm Mountain House meal helped boost our spirits. We woke up the next morning and were at it again, but with a different strategy. We hiked up to a large peak overlooking a valley and spent the next few hours there glassing north-facing slopes. Nada.
That night we quickly feel asleep, but were awoken at 1:30 a.m. to the most glorious, hair-raising sound I'd ever heard. Not 25 yards behind our tent we could hear the clear, unmistakable bugling and chuckling of elk in the nearby alfalfa field. It continued for a long time until I couldn't take it anymore and went outside to see. But the pitch black proved too difficult to see in.
The next morning while wolfing down some freeze-dried sausage and biscuits we heard bugling again. The chase was on, until we realized my buddy had forgotten his tag at home. He made a beeline for the closest DWR office to get a replacement while I headed out on the mountain alone.
As I walked up the mountain in the darkness, I began seeing fresh elk droppings. It started with one pile then another and then another. Then I found some old bedding areas. I was feeling pretty good until I saw a sheepherder bringing his sheep down the very mountain I was climbing. Oh well, it's public land.
Once my buddy made it back and met me on the mountain we continued our search. Then we found it. A huge swath of land loaded with bedding areas and all kinds of fresh sign. We made our way out of there and settled in to glass the area. But no elk.
Now we knew where they seemed to hang out at night and where they seemed to go to get away. We had them! Mother Nature had other ideas. She sent an unseasonably cool cold front that dropped temps into the single digits with wind chill. We knew we were in trouble when we couldn't keep our camp stoves lit in the wind. We weren't prepared for that kind of cold, and had to make the decision to break camp and head for home with intentions of coming back in a day.
Well, the cold never let up and actually got worse. We opted to put the rifles down and picked up the shotguns for a day of grouse hunting. We got into some grouse, but it wasn't the elk we were hoping for. Nevertheless, I sent my buddy home with some elk meat someone had given me, the grouse meat and some meat from a whitetail I shot last winter.
So while we didn't get an elk, let alone see them, we did get something else. And that was a week together in the mountains after not seeing each other for 7 years. Isn't that part of the allure of hunting? Getting to spend time with friends and loved ones in the great outdoors?
We learned a lot and have plans to get back after it again next season. Happy Hunting!
