A roller coaster of events

This is my last big game hunt of the 2018 season. Roo and I both had cow tags but she has gotten busy enough that I went after cows alone this year. I had an amazing day where I finally glassed a small band of 15 cows and a spike in the late morning. I grabbed Molly, my newly-built 300 WM and after a couple miles of trekking through the snow, I closed the gap but still had plenty of space between me and the cows as they were bedded in the middle of a flat bench, with steep edges all around. The only way to get closer would be to pop over the edge from them within 150 yards on flat ground, which as wary as they were, would have been risky. 

"Got a little nippy going through the pass huh"

This is where I had taken the shot at the cow. The elk where just behind the red dirt in the center of the picture on the mesa

With no wind, I decided to take the shot from around 900 yards. The first shot hit a little high behind her shoulder but lethal, the second shot double-lunged her. I'm not sure I've ever walked up on an elk and thought it looked small; in fact, kinda like the height of the mountains I climb, they seem to be getting bigger and bigger each year. I thanked her for her life, broke her into sizable chunks, and hauled her a couple miles towards the truck before the Romeros came to the rescue and helped with the remaining mile in the dark. I paid Reece, their college boy,with a fine cow backstrap. If you've read this far...this is where the story gets good. 

150 lbs of pure, organic goodness

Marty Romero had a cow tag as well, and on the pack out hauling my elk, he was smart enough to say he could use some help looking for a cow the following day...what do you say?! I met Marty before light the next morning and we headed back to the mountain. We started high, but quickly realized we weren't the only person with that idea. We made a graceful retreat spinning the truck and trailer and pedaling back to lower grounds. 

We pulled into the same spot from where I had spied my cows the day before. I couldn't believe my eyes. Are those really elk?! I questioned myself before opening my mouth. "Elk!" Marty barked. A band of 70 elk had set-up camp a mile from the parking spot, on public land--but only  200 yards. They were a smooth sailing mile and a half from the trucks. You couldn't ask for better! We were both blown away there weren't 5 trucks already parked heading after this band in full force; however there was one truck and the license plate was local and said ELK. 

We knew we had competition but we weren't sure where they were or why they hadn't gotten into those elk yet?! If someone is already chasing elk, the ethical response from other hunters in the area is to give them space. But these elk were bedded and we couldn't see anyone in pursuit. "I say we get up there and analyze whether someone else is already on them, and if not, kill your cow!" I didn't have to tell Marty twice as I'm sure he had already thought through the scenario, he was already busy piling stuff into his pack. 

We hurried towards the elk at a strong pace keeping a hill between them and us, but also praying we wouldn't see blaze orange on the most-likely ridge opposite of the elk. It looked like if we could make the ridge, the cows would be around 300-400 yards, a very doable shot for Marty. As we closed the distance, we passed fresh boot tracks but couldn't figure out why..or how those elk were still relaxed and not harassed. We crawled up slowly on the ridge peeking over. "They're right here!", I motioned to Marty. 

The rangefinder read 303 to the furthest elk. Marty slowly laid prone, opened the legs of the bipod and got a steady rest for the stock of his Tikka .300 win mag. I put ear plugs in and watched Marty as he found a bedded cow in his scope. I sensed some adrenaline through his sporadic breathing and hyper-alert senses, but was confident he had this... 

...Marty suddenly rolled on his side. I thought maybe he had a cactus or rock underneath him. He then digs deep into his back pocket pulling out his wallet. He begins flipping through his wallet items frantically as if he just realized there is a missing hundred dollar bill. His bulging wide-eye stare confirmed the worse. For whatever reason, the moment before pulling the trigger on his cow his thoughts raced to whether or not he had his cow tag on him...and he didn't.

I grabbed his wallet and double-checked as he shimmied back down to his pack where he checked behind every stitch without any luck. Suddenly, the adrenaline...the excitement...the moment was tarnished with this new found dilemma. We sat there in silence soaking in the disappointment. Sitting next to a herd of cows that are within seconds of private land, with another hunter traipsing around somewhere nearby. Without a tag.   

This is the moment I was laying prone while Marty was ripping his backpack apart in search of his tag

I don't know how to describe how I felt, or even worse, how Marty felt. I felt bad for Marty more than any disappointment. We backed down the ridge 100 yards to hopefully avoid being noticed by the elk. We raced through the options. I had cell service and he called his son to look for the tag. Dylan said he'd look around the house and call us back. About then, I noticed our lost hunter! He was heading back towards the trucks, looking defeated and tired! The good news was he wouldn't be able to see the elk for another mile of hiking. The bad news was, depending on his drive, when he eventually does see the herd we run the risk of him turning around and putting a kink in our plan!

Meanwhile, Bob called. Perfect timing as he had a cow tag as well. He said he was home sipping coffee. After explaining the situation, he hopped in the pick-up and was 40 minutes out. About that same time, Dylan called back and said the tag was behind some coupons on the fridge and he'd be out as soon as possible! 

Meanwhile, our wary hunter was inching his way closer to the pick-ups and was close to being within sight of the elk. By this time, Marty and I had gotten over the fact he didn't have his tag and we were now hoping that Dylan and Bob would just hurry and put the pedal to the metal. The tired hunter finally was on the final stretch for his truck and got into view of the elk. He decided to rest and do some glassing. Glued to my binos, I noticed the second he saw those elk as his entire body slumped nearly making his slinged rifle nearly fall off his right shoulder.

"Uh-oh...he's got them spotted Marty", I said concerned. The hunter stood motionless for a strong 2 minutes glassing the situation. He then turned back around heading our way with a whole new spring in each step. Not a couple minutes later, Bob and Dylan both showed up at the parking lot. Our plan was to intercept the unknown hunter and explain the situation and that we can all get up on the ridge together and every tagholder could harvest their cow together. 

Bob was moving fast trying to gain ground as fast as possible. Dylan was marching towards us and we knew he had Marty's tag. We were both comfortable knowing the tag was in sight and minutes away. The hunter, instead of coming up to our location, flanked our side with the intention of killing a cow...unfortunately, from underneath us. 

Marty made the quick decision he was going to go ahead and harvest his cow at that point with Dylan right behind us. These elk were bedded alongside private and this hunter was about to spook them that direction! We scurried back to our ambush site. Marty's confidence was high and I noticed a lesser level of adrenaline, as if he used it all up earlier in the day. His shot rang true and the cow was hit well, as the other elk just stood around. Not a minute later, the other hunter shot several rounds injuring a cow. Marty ran down and signaled to him that he had one injured that he couldn't see at the moment. 

Marty's patient quarry

The hunter climbed the hill up to our ambush spot and with one more shot, killed his cow. I wasn't entirely impressed with this gentleman's strategy, but I was impressed by his age and will. He was at least 70 years old and one tough dude. By that time, Bob had found which direction the spooked elk were headed and continued at a fast pace. I didn't doubt Bob's ability and knew within an hour, he would catch up to the elk no matter where they went. Marty, Dylan, and I disconnected each muscle and piece of meat from the cow and made good time back to the pick-up with an hour of light to spare. 

Bob did indeed catch-up to a small band of cows, killing his cow as well. After dropping off Marty's cow at the truck, we all turned back to the trailhead and headed towards Bob's kill site to help him with his pack-out. A mile from the truck, we found Bob hobbling along headed our way. He had the entire boned-out cow elk on his back, I'm sure he was glad to see us as we each partitioned 40 pounds of meat. We arrived at the pick-up at dark after quite an emotional day!

      

That moment Marty realized his tag was at home was one that I'll never forget. It made for an unexpected roller coaster of emotions.  In the end, everyone got their cow and it was a hunt I'll never forget! Thanks for letting me "tag" along Marty! Haha, see what I did there...I'm thinking this deserves a lifetime of ribbing.