I promised Tanner, Roo’s husband, that I’d take him on a backcountry deer hunt this year…then Alaska happened.
I ended up missing my favorite hunt of the year (Wyoming early deer) and I felt guilt that I had made a prior commitment to Tanner and couldn’t follow through. So instead, I invited him on our backcountry elk hunt which takes place in October.
Brady, Tyler, Tanner, and myself were the lucky individuals that would make up the general elk team this year and we decided to do things a bit different than past years.
Rather than go to our go-to camp, which sits at 10,000’, along the timberline, we decided to come in from a different direction where we seem to hike to often with lots of elk. Our idea was maybe setting camp a little closer to where the elk have been. Tyler and I did a quick elk hunt in there last year going this route and we enjoyed it.
The logistics getting in are a bit tougher and include horses, atvs, and plenty of hiking…but all in all not too bad of a pull…if the weather cooperates.
The weather forecast was showing rain building into snow towards the end of our 5 day trip, but plenty of sun for the first few days. We were all excited to be back in elk country and no matter how many vehicles were parked along the trailheads, we were confident with our knowledge and drive we could find good bulls.
Tanner has never been on a trip like this, nor has he really hunted elk. I sensed the nervousness, but paid little attention to it. I treated him like the other guys, and I think that’s how it should be and how he wanted it.
Although he was green to elk hunting and backcountry, he’s not green to hard work and jumping in to help when needed. The hike in was fairly easy for those with mtn legs. Brady, Tyler, and I were all fresh off of other big hunts and in good cardio shape. Tanner struggled a bit on the way up which is to be expected. The sweat streaming down his face showed the struggle but he never let it slow him down.
Tyler took the horses and camp ahead of us and let us know that someone else was in our camp spot and he went another mile up creek. I knew where he was, exactly where we spotted our bulls from the year before.
Our camp spot was a flat bench perched 80 feet above the creek with an open meadow with plenty of grass for the horses, and good water in a small tributary not too far away.
When we arrived in camp, we dropped our packs and all reached for our binos. Bulls were screaming every direction on the ridges above us. It was Sept. 30th and these elk sounded fired up.
Small details that Tanner struggled with at first, quickly became normalized and he acclimated well. Being a little uncomfortable quickly becomes the norm and your mindset changes throughout the hunt from easy life at home to basic survival mode: eat, drink, chores, hike, sleep.
Suddenly, at some point in the hunt, scaling steep cliffs, kneeling next to a giant dead bull in the dark in grizz country, aren’t frightening moments anymore. They’re the times you feel most alive.
I lit the titanium stove well before light on opening morning. The glow of the stove cast flickering orange light on the tipi walls, and the frigid air warmed inside our abode. Like hibernating rock chucks, heads began poking up from their warm downy nests with anticipation.
The bulls could sense the night was coming to an end and their bugling activity again ramped up for the pre-dawn. The bugling was our morning caffeine, we were excited to get on our lookouts wondering how the day would play out.
My goal was to see Tanner kill his first elk. I wouldn’t hunt until his bull was dead, then if there was time, I’d hunt as well. Although we saw dozens of bulls on opening day, nobody took a shot that day. We could’ve all been done and tagged out by breakfast. Brady wandered into higher ground alone, while Tyler, Tanner, and I hunted mostly together the majority of the day.
Tanner had two quick opportunities on bigger bulls, but a combination of the bull moving out of shooting range too quickly or Tanner not quite being fast enough on a new rifle/scope and overall style of a prone/bipod shooting platform. Tanner practiced quite a bit on the rifle through the day, working the bipod, getting into position quickly, and adjusting the scopes functions. By the end of the day, he was fast and ready. He elected to pass some easy shots on younger 5-point bulls hoping for a 6-point. I had no doubt it would happen the next day.
He did well building a nice shooting platform just in time for 4 cows to show up in the opening. “There’s gonna be a bigger bull behind those cows” I whispered. Shortly after, a nice 6 pt bull stepped into view. “Do you want to kill that bull Tanner?” I asked. “Yeah!” He answered. Tyler and I shared a smile.
Tanner’s shot hit its mark and the bull crashed to the ground. He was noticeably excited, shaking, smiling, and speechless. It was definitely a moment I’ll always cherish. The two smaller bulls walked up to the fallen warrior and Tyler and I discussed the idea of double tapping having three bulls down all together…but the thought of dealing with three bulls in one day sounded like lots of work. Little did we know how the rest of the day would turn out!!
With a little direction and some help, Tanner dismantled his first elk. The vistas and weather were perfect. Tanner kept remarking how he couldn’t believe he had actually killed a big bull, almost like he felt like it would never happen. He did it and did an amazing job!
3 hours later, his elk laid nearly in 4 meat bags on the hill and we decided to hunt the evening over the next canyons to the north, where we knew many elk were spending their days bedded.
I’m not sure how to even put into words the perfect chaos that ensued in the evening. It started with the three of us glassing the northern canyons, seeing elk regularly through the expansive landscape.
Evening settled in and elk were coming out. I kept watching where I had seen a big herd of cows and a spike fed out of the timber. I knew there would be a bigger bull with them. Finally, he stepped out. His long, straight beams made him look exceptionally tall. I knew what sort of bull I was looking for on this hunt, and this guy fit the ticket.
Tyler asked if I was gonna go after him, knowing he’d kill it if I didn’t. The elk were on the side of a canyon 1,000 yards away, and I knew we could cut 400ish yards and get on the opposing ridge of the canyon. Plus, I assumed that canyon was loaded with bulls.
“I’m only going to kill him if you find one to kill as well Tyler, let’s go get on the ridge!” We rocketed over, and slowed to a creep on the edge of the canyon. The canyon sounded like Jurassic Park. We couldn’t hear all the elk from our last point, but once we got to the edge of the canyon, there were a dozen different bulls with their echoes bouncing through the canyon rocky walls.
I quickly refound my bull and set up fo a 550 yard shot. Most of the bulls we couldn’t see, but we could only hear. “Find a bull yet Tyler?” I asked getting a bit worried my bull was going to get back in the timber…plus darkness was 15 min away. We were all a little twisted up. Me, I wanted to kill this bull that was following a cow towards the trees. Tyler was frantically trying to decide which other bull to kill. And Tanner…well, I can only wonder what he was thinking….
To put it in perspective, Tanners meat bags were now two canyons over. Tyler and I are intending to kill two more big bulls right before dark in a canyon where there had been a big boar grizzly earlier that day. Did I mention we were now miles from camp and this canyon was a steep, rocky cliff?
Tyler finally decided on which bull he would shoot. I took a deep breath and slowly squeezed. The bull took a 140 eldm to the lungs but stayed on his hooves. I cycled another round and slowly squeezed another one off just as he flipped on his back from the initial bullet.
I had tunnel vision focusing on making sure my bull was dead. A couple shots and some cuss words from Tyler quickly took my focus. “I could use a spotter!” Tyler yelled. I ran over and grabbed a range for him. “1160, 26.25 moa” I whispered. He ripped his head out of his scope looking at me in confusion, then adjusting his turret quite a bit. I’m still not sure what range he initially got but it was obviously wrong!
He settled into his rifle and his shot anchored the bull perfectly. I can only imagine what Brady, who was hunting a couple miles away, was thinking. I believe Tyler launched 4 bullets before I got his correct range, and I shot twice.
The adrenaline rush of the last 10 minutes was now quickly wearing off as we stared across this nasty canyon at the giant task we had ahead of us with no time to spare. We needed to cross this cliff abyss and get to these elk quickly as it was getting dark. Our plan was to just gut our elk for the night and then come back the following day to quarter and retrieve them with horses.
Once we had our bulls gutted, we met up at my bull and the. tried to find a decent way to hike back to camp together without cliffing out. We eventually found an old horse trail that saved much time, and we were back at camp around midnight with three dead bulls up on the mountain. That was a helpless feeling with the grizz densities in the area. What a day!!!
We stayed up late sharing stories with Brady. He had found a solid bull and now that he was the last one with a tag, he decided he better get at it in the morning. He was up early and gone hunting when we rolled out of bed. The day was a total recovery day, and I don’t mean for our own bodies…that wouldn’t come for another couple days. It was elk recovery day.
The plan was Tanner and Tyler would take the horses and recover their bulls. I would hike back up to my bull alone and quarter it up and get it to a better spot for the horses. I’m guessing if Tanner was writing this story, this recovery day might’ve been full of stories of hail, horse rodeos, being on bear watch in camp after an ornery fuzz poked a hole in Brady’s tipi, etc…but those are stories you’ll need to ask him about I guess.
We were all back at camp right at dark. We made a big campfire outside and just as we began enjoying its warmth, the clouds opened with a steady rain. We rushed to put all our gear in the tipis and do our chores quickly.
The rain never let up all night and we woke up to puddles, mud, and colder temperatures. We knew by evening it was supposed to turn into snow and dump for a couple days. It would’ve been great if the moisture could’ve waited another day. We decided that waiting might just bring worse weather so we decided to leave by noon. Packing out in rain and mud really mucks things up and makes each step harder, not just for us, but the horses too, that’ll be weighed down.
In short, we broke down camp and loaded the horses with meat, antlers, and camp gear. Brady and I ended up packing a decent amount as we had 5 horses and 4 elk. Tanner and Tyler led the horse strings while Brady and I packed behind. By mile 2 or 3, we were soaked to our underwear. It wasn’t too bad when you were hiking but when we’d stop moving, you realized how cold it was. Dangerously cold!
The all day pack out was an adventure in itself but ultimately, with minutes left of light, we were all in our warm trucks with heaters. It ended up being one of the heaviest rainfalls that country had seen in a while. The main road flooded rolling car-sized boulders onto the road.
Thanks Tanner for sharing that experience with me.
