Unit 1 Archery Bull

[Coach]

This year started out pretty tough. Lots of people in the woods and the rut was really slow the first week. I saw very few good bulls the first week. One was a really nice-framed 6x7 with weak 3rds and 5ths. Didn't persue him very hard but ended up finding his sheds from the previous year.

 

Sheds as they lay...

Posing...

 

I started this hunt with pretty high expectations - I wanted a 350+ 6x6 or better. Not an easy feat in any unit, but something to shoot for. Each day I was up by 3:30 and hunting hard all day until after dark trying to make that happen. I saw and passed a few bulls but nothing close to what I was after. On Friday, the 8th day of the hunt, the rut was finally picking up. In the morning, I was into some nice bulls, but got overly agressive and was out of position when a large 6x6 walked right up on me. If I had just sat tight and waited, he probably would have walked right to me.

 

That evening, I was on my way to a spot I had previously hunted, but got a tip from a guy camped close to me about a big bull he had seen earlier in the day while on his cow hunt. I headed into the area with no expectations late in the afternoon. There were lots of rubs and a couple trails leading up into some heavily wooded fingers so I got up in the edge of the timber and tried a soft cow call. Immediately I was answered by a high-pitched "whiney" bugle just a couple hundred yards below me in a drainage. Having no expectations, and thinking this was a small bull I called again - and again was answered, but closer this time. I was sure this was a small bull, all alone and looking for love so I figured I would just practice for the "real" situation. I called again and peered down into the drainage. I almost went into shock when a HUGE rack was bouncing up the hill straight toward me. I got behind the first good sized pine I could find just as the bull crested the hill. Now, instead of the whimpy bugle I'd heard before he exploded with a deep raspy bugle and a series of chuckles. He was just 20 yards away but his eyes were locked on the tree I was hiding behind.

 

My heart started beating so hard I could hear my water bottle in my fanny pack crackling as my chest expanded and contracted. I hoped he couldn't hear it as loudly as I could, and wondered what to do next. If he walked to my right, I would have an easy 20 yard shot. If he walked to my left he would be behind some small pines. Instead, he decided to walk almost straight toward me, slightly to my left. At 15 yards he stopped and I knew I had to shoot quick or chance him getting down wind. As I tried to draw and twist around the tree in one motion, he caught my movement and bolted. I was heart-broken. Once again just slightly out of position and I rushed to draw and got caught. All I could do is watch as he trotted away, his huge rack gliding further away with each step.

 

After 8 days of hard hunting, that very rare opportunity at a true giant was blown. I replayed that last few seconds over and over again in my mind. Had I just positioned myself further from the tree and crouched or even stood, I could have drawn without exposing myself. It was really hard to overcome the realization that I had what may be a once-in-a-lifetime chance at a truly giant bull and pretty much blew it with a couple rookie mental mistakes.

 

The next morning I went back in the same area, but there were very few bugles, and I never got on him again. I headed into town to coach some 4th grade football, and headed back into the woods trying to shake the rookie mistakes that had cost me a huge bull.

 

Sunday, I was back at it and my friend Mark met me at 4:30 to go hit one of our old stomping grounds. Right off the bat, as we were working our way towards several bugling bulls, we had a nice 330-ish satellite bull at 52 yards. Once again I was just out of position for a shot, and in the open burn country he had us pegged. Not overly alarmed, he circled around us. Later, Mark called in several bulls to within shooting distance. One, a young 6x6 was an easy shot at 40 yards, but I elected to pass as there were bigger bulls all around and all still active. However, they all had cows and refused to leave them, even for Mark's seductive calls. We worked our way slowly in the late morning to one of the herd bulls on this mountain that had bedded but was bugling from his bed. Inside 100 yards, cows started popping up everywhere and they were on the defensive. Time and time again, a cow would spot us trying to move through the open, burned area and we'd have to lay still for 10 - 20 minutes at a time until they settled down and started feeding again.

 

We finally got to 90 yards of the herd bull, and he was really nice - 350 - 360 easy. Light on 5ths but overall a great bull, but his cows were gathering up to head out of dodge. They knew something was up and were doing their best to usher their "man" out of there. He had around 30 cows all set up in different areas and I was able to get inside 20 yards of one group hoping he would come in to gather them before leaving. Unfortunately, I was never able to get closer than 90 yards. Mark and I watched as he took the last of his cows out of the area.

 

Monday was pretty much spent gathering up my trail cameras and ground blinds after one last, unsuccessful attempt to find the huge bull I had blown it with on Friday. My spirits were getting pretty low at that point. So many close calls, so many "almost" stalks on the kind of bull I had been dreaming of. I texted my buddy "Montanna Casey" who was on his own bull hunt in Colorado, and already had a bull down, and summarized my hunt to that point. His response was typically blunt, but honest - "quit f***ing around". I replied "no sh!t"... his reply, "no, seriously, QUIT F***ING AROUND!..."

 

Sorry for the course language, but sometimes when you start feeling defeated you need someone to give you a swift kick in the butt, and that is exactly what his text did for me. I had only 3 days left, had blown or failed to execute multiple opportunities at good bulls, and it was time to crank things up a notch.

 

I put together a plan of attack for Tuesday morning - I was going back into the area that Mark and I had come so close to several bulls. This time I was going solo, and I wouldn't be calling. I knew there were two herd bulls on the mountain and several big satellites. Having hunted it many years in the past along with what I had seen this year, I knew where they would be at night, where they would head at first light and how they would use their cows, and exactly how the wind would work to my advantage. I was going to get it done this time.

 

Tuesday morning I worked my way down a creek below the mountain top where the big boys were playing. The bugles were more scattered and sporadic than they had been before. As I crept out of the creek to the mountain top, there was an unsettling silence. The bulls didn't seem to be where they should be. Still, I had the wind in my face and was in their bedding areas easily an hour before I was usually there. Finally a bugle, but right behind me, following my path out of the creek bottom. Then answered by a huge, deep bellowing bugle from right where I expected the 2 herd bulls to be. So I had one of the herd bulls right where I needed him, and a satellite bull right behind me. I knew I was pinched but it was part of the plan. I couldn't get to the herd bull without dealing with the satellites first.

 

The bull behind me appeared at around 90 yards. He was a nice 5x6, but all alone. He walked through the burned timber toward the bugles of the raspy herd bull. All I had to do was wait for him to pass. Of course, elk seem to have an uncanny knack for throwing a wrench into our plans and he started feeding right in front of me, from 90, to 80, eventually to 50 yards away. Now, the country up here after the burn is pretty thin and once on top of the mountain, there is very little contour to use. I had to work tree to tree moving away from the 5x6 to have any chance of moving in on the bugles I was sure would be a monster bull. Carefully, and deliberately, I snuck away from the bull until I could once again start moving toward the herd bull watching back at the satellite bull as he bugled back at the deep, grunting bugles that I was trying to close in on.

 

Finally, I had enough ground between him and me to move in on the herd bull. As I approached, the bugles were louder and more agressive. I knew he would be moving his herd as light started piercing the trees. The bugles now were almost bone-rattling with chuckles and grunts. The bull I wanted was inside 150 yards and moving my way. There was an open corridor in the aspens and spruce and I could see a cow close to where the bugles came from. She fed my direction as I started ranging every tree in sight. The opening was about 50 yards across and she was right in the middle of it. I finally caught a glimpse of the bull following behind her, but in the thicker trees on the far side of the opening. At this point, I had to get past this first cow, then move across the opening.

 

Suddenly, the cow stopped feeding and started walking straight at me. All I could do was stand close to a half-burned pine and watch her shadow approach. At around 5-6 yards she stood staring at this lump of "me" clinging to a pine tree. I don't think I've ever been that close to a live, wild elk. I could see the veins of her snout, her nostrils opening and closing rapidly, every feature of her face as she intently looked for whatever it was that made her feel uneasy. She stomped, ran a couple of steps, then looked back at me, frozen, pressed against a tree hoping my camo and scent spray would keep her from coming unglued.

 

After what seemed like forever, she continued past me, downwind, but never snorted or alerted the rest of the herd. Once she was past me I figured I needed to get across the open corridor I was in to close in on the bull. My first goal was another big pine tree only 10 yards away. Once past that I'd have to figure out how to close the other 40 yards of open grass and 10 inch aspens to get to the thick area the bull was now screaming from. I layed down and started belly crawling toward the next big tree. About 1/2 way to the tree, I looked up and saw 6 - 8 cows headed straight down the path that the first cow had taken, right at me. Now I'm stuck in the open with way too many eyes, and way too many noses and ears to even try to get to the next tree, let alone the thicker trees beyond - I'm stuck right out in the open as the whole herd is moving in on me.

 

 

The bull screams and chuckles again so loud it's like he is right on top of me. His cows are now just feet in front of me between him and me, but I'm laying down prone with a fallen aspen tree about 4 inches thick laying in the grass between me and him. I pull up my binocs to get the first good look at the bull I've been after all morning....And in comes the ton of bricks...he's an old bull, just a 5x5....Thick at the bases, great 3rds, but narrow and weak up top...

 

 

My plan had come together perfectly, I had skirted the satellites, beaten the eyes, ears and noses of an entire herd, gotten to the bull behind the deep, raspy bugle only to find that he's an old guy, kinda like me. I thrusted my bow into the grass away from me, angry, a little bitter feeling...reaching around to my fanny pack for my video camera since this obviously wasn't the bull I was expectting, not the bull I had worked so hard for...not a bull I felt I could come onto an internet forum and show off...

 

And then the words came to me. My wife had been telling me the entire hunt, it's not about the size of the bull, but the experience, "The Journey" as she called it. She knew all along something I couldn't express in words, or even accept in some ways with a numbers-based goal meant for somebody else.

 

I needed to be there all alone, with no one to call him in to me. To get inside the herd, using only my own approach, my own plan, with no dependency on a guide or even a friend, just me, owning that moment.

 

As corny as it may sound, my whole concept of the hunt took on a new meaning. Despite my number-based, bragging-right goals, the bigger bulls I had passed, and those I had made mistakes on, I knew this was my bull. I felt at that moment, that this is exactly what bowhunting rutting bull elk was all about. My concerns about his declining age and less than perfect rack melted into the realization that I was now inside 50 yards of a bull that had survived literally dozens of archery, rifle and muzzle-loader seasons. He ruled his portion of the mountain for years and earned the respect of every bull in that area. I finally recognized that it was an honor to have the opportunity hunt this bull on his territory.

 

I pulled my bow back toward myself and knocked an arrow as he attempted to mount a cow at 50 yards. The movement caught his eye, and he headed straight toward me. With only a couple of trees blocking his view I came to full draw. He emerged at 30 yards facing me. My 30 yard pin was right in the middle of his chest, and I contemplated the frontral shot. At this range, it was a no brainer. I just had to decide whether to release or not. A thousand thoughts must have crossed my mind in the next half second. My goals of a bigger bull, the words of my wife, the past opportunities, the bleak prospects over the next days, the realization that I was exactlty where I had been trying to be for the the past 10-11 days...In a heartbeat the decision was made, and the arrow was on its way.

 

 

All those thoughts were over as I saw the arrow dive deep into his chest and the blood spurt as he turned to run. He only made it a few steps before losing his feet and crashing to the ground. I've never seen an arrow kill so quickly.

 

As I reflect on the hunt, I have mixed feelings. I still hope to one day take a really nice bull - the type you can make a nice mount of. But this time, I know I did it myself, did it cleanly, and I can take pride in the hunt, and realize that the trophy sometimes is a result of the journey, rather than the rack size. Enjoy the pix...

 

Initial Hit...

 

 

 

 

[afmalinois]

Great story and nothing to be ashamed about with that bull. He is one heavy 5x5. Congratulations!!!!

[stanley]

That was a GREAT write-up! Awesome bull! Congrats on a great hunt!!!

 

Thanks for sharing with the site!

 

S.

 

[vincefmx]

Great story! I had the Unit 1 tag and killed opening morning and also had the experience of hunting the rest of the hunt with a friend, the rut was very slow and there were many people afield. congrats!

[Will K]

Alot of mass on that great looking bull. Congrat's.

[runningbird]

Great story, Great Bull, Thanks for taking us along!

[Coues Sniper]

Awesome story Coach, and that is a GREAT bull. I love big 5x5's and I love mass. That bull is both and definitely something to be proud of. Congrats on a great hunt and for knowing whats really important

[coyotekid]

SWEET. I love big 5 by's!

And as for your friend, you are lucky to have a friend good enough to just tell you the way it is and then be big enough yourself to take his words, change your attitude end get other done!

Great write up. Thanks.

Sam

[bear402]

That looks like a trophy of a lifetime to me !

 

I think you'll always remember this hunt and the lessons learned !

 

 

Good job Coach !

[CouesWhitetail]

LOVED the story!! Great job and way to take a great bull! Like CouesSniper, I love those big, massive 5x5s! You should be very proud of your bull and your hunt! Way to get it done and what incredible memories you will have! Thanks for taking the time to write it all up for us!!

[tjhunt2]

As I sit here drinking my first cup of coffee I turn on cwt and immediately click on your post Coach. You start out saying how it was going to be a long read and I sometimes fast forward thru not reading every word but this was so well written it was like reading a story out of Field & Stream. No, it was better! I felt myself being pulled in and being right there with you. I go pour my second cup of coffee and continue to enjoy the read until I read "not a bull I felt I could come onto an internet forum and show off". If I had been reading this in a magizine, I would have closed the book and thrown it across the room. I'm sure glad I didn't because I get to the part about what your wife had to say and the story pulls me even farther in. I just want to say that this is the best story I have ever read here on cwt and better than any magizine could have done. I feel you were so intent on a huge bull that you lost sight of anything else. I give alot of credit to your wife, your friend, and especially you for turning it around with a classic ending. Congratulations

on your thick horned bull and for sharing an awesome story I will soon not forget.

 

TJ

[lucky2hunt]

Incredible! How fortunate you are to be able to have that experience!!! To see so much action and to have so many close encounters, I know there are many hunters this year that would be extremely envious of that bull and the way it was taken. That is the true essence of 'bow hunting the rut'. I dream of hunts like yours! Congrats on a great bull and a very memorable hunt.

[Chef]

Wow. Just wow.

This is the best written hunt story I have ever read on the forum.

HUGE congratulations and way to get it done.

Outstanding.

[ruthunter]

Id have to agree with this being the best write up i have ever read on CWT. Congrats on a nice bull, nothing to be ashamed of.

[shanehamblin]

I typically just lurk around the site and dont comment much but that was an awesome story. Kind of makes us all think about what hunting really means to us. Awesome write up I appreciate it. Something I find myself getting caught up in sometimes is forgetting what the hunt is all about. Congrats on a heck of a bull.