2nd year in a row going after bull elk in Colorado off grand mesa. It was a heck of a hunt, I highly recommend TKO (outfitters) for anyone looking for a drop camp or guide. They can tailor the hunt to what you like / skill set to hunt either private (relatively easier physical) or public - lots of miles in rugged terrain.
I'll do a brief day by day
Day 1:
Hike in about 2 miles to these cliff faces to glass into a basin that is next to private land. Sure enough 30 minutes glass a good 6x5 bull is slowly working his way to us at 700 yards. He came to about 540 yards and had him in my cross hairs several times...but since we were cliffed out I could not get closer. With the thick brush, shooting prone is off the table and you need to free hand or tall shooting sticks, luckily I have the Tricer GTP-RS which is extremely handy. My problem was i dropped my back and needed it as a rear rest at that distance. I could have squeezed the trigger but without the pack rest it was a 50/50 shot of getting him down and the last thing I wanted to do is end my hunt opening morning. He was a nice bull, bigger than I got last year but I let him pass. No sense of wounding one.
We hiked further into the basin to get closer but he disappeared in the thick stuff. Spotted tons of elk on private land in the valley and several bears at 1200y that I decided to let live. Around noon we hike out to come up with afternoon game plan because there were tons of elk on private we had access to with the game plan to get my dad on one. Conditions were rough, hike in was about 3" of snow but the hike out was 3" of slick mud.
Evening comes and my dad gets on the heard and we were on the otherside of the property incase they popped out. My dad gets a shot off, wounds it and the bull goes into the thick stuff and all his cows run off. I go through the cedars trying to find him and nothing....tough night.
Day 2:
Hike back to cliff face and glass for several hours, seeing nothing on public. Several bulls on private in the valley but nothing we could hunt. Get a call on the radio saying they found my dad's bull, he looks dead laying the sun for the last hour. 15 minutes we got another call the radio that the bull was actually alive at 1030 yards, and I was asked if I was willing to take a poke at it at 1030 yards instead of trying to sneak up on it in the cedars. I said sure, we hike back out get the big spotters and work our way over about 1.5 hours later.
Once there I got all setup, put my phone skope on my kowa to video the shot. I get setup prone all the time in the world. Long story short, I get my cross hairs on the bull and hit exactly where I thought he was. The perfect shot. We all celebrated and watched the video a couple times. We then get ready to go pack him out. Emotions and jokes were through the roof...as we get close the guide was so confident that he was dead that he went his first without a gun...with my dad following behind (not physically able to keep up). Basically they jumped the bull, ran off like nothing was wrong...and my dad never got a shot off. We started tracking and go to his bed. Found a speck of blood but not what we expected. After looking at the video at least 20 more times, we realized that what I thought was his body was actually a rock right next to him and that is what I hit.
Man talk about a low after a high. I aimed at the wrong spot, thought it was his body turned out to be a rock. That night we glass from the trucks / roads and see some huge bulls in NF. Saw some bulls right at dusk come back on private my dad can hunt.
Day 3:
I hike into a different spot on NF, this required a drive to top of mountain / dropped off and hike down. On the hike down there were a half dozen other hunters we passed but we were dropping way down about 1500 feet to get within half a mile of private land to catch them as they cross on public. We spot a couple of huge bulls and fight to get in range. But the country is unforgiving, thick scrub oaks everywhere and struggling to find to get an opening to take a shot. We continue scooting down the hill and get to about 500 yards from the private boundary (we do not have permission). There were about half a dozen legal bulls slowly working their way to use and cows everywhere. I had a "barely" legal 4x3 at 375 yards that I passed on because the bull of my dreams was slowly working his way over. Huge 6x6, we estimated about 330 to 340 class.
So we estimated where he may hope the fence and work to get into a good shooting position. Well he moved EXACTLY as we had hoped. Hoped the fence and stood there 450 yards. I get set up steady with my system and let her fly! NOTHING!! WTF...so I rack another...miss. At this point i start to fall apart, i have no clue how I am missing....bull keeps walking towards me. Now at 350 yards...miss another couple of times.
I am dying inside...bull keeps working his way over and I fire and miss my final two bullets (I only brought 6 for the hike in). Bull gets to about 270 yards and stands there broadside, tormenting me that I cannot take a shot. My heart was in my stomach...this was everything I had wanted, hiked in about 4 miles found the bull I wanted and couldn't get it done...after watching it my guide said i was shooting about 8' over his back. We come to realize that I put my turret back to 0 instead of 0 stop. So I was 20 MOA high. I couldn't believe it. A mistake I will never make again.
The hike out was brutal, 4 miles about 1500 elevation gain though slick / sloppy mud. I would take 6 or 7 miles on firm ground any day over that mess. That night we took it easy and drove on the other side of the valley to see if we could cut tracks. Never did, drank a few beers and went to sleep early.
Day 4:
Hike back to cliffside, but the weather never cooled off enough for the ground to freeze and yet it snowed about 4 inches. So the hike was not fun, those few miles sucked. In addition, my dad was setup on private land and as the elk were working their way to him...another private land owner was chasing them away with his trucks...pushing them back to his own land. We were all angry, such a douche bag blatantly breaking the law using his trucks to heard them back on his land. Our outfitter video it for 15 minutes, him driving back and forth on the road pushing them towards his friends in blinds. I got asked if I wanted to hike back into the spot I shot at the bull the day before, but I was beat and said no. This was our easier day out there, only hiking 7 miles. Most days were 10 to 12. That night we glass some big bulls standing right were I took my shoot.
Day 5:
Last day of the season and I woke up at 4:15 am, sat up and said I am going to kill a bull today. @Truduct saying about his kids "killers gonna kill" rang through my mind. I also remembered how I would tell my wife how great it would be to have a shitty week and to get on one on the last day. I now take it back but I knew it was my day.
To get back to the spot were we had been seeing the bulls required more effort though, too much snow up high so it would required 5 mile hike in and climb to get to the spot. I was motivated, legs felt fresh from taking the day before easy and we set off. As we set off, a bull was bugling his tail off on private. I took it as a good sign. About half way in, I cut a lion track on the trail. Pretty cool and it was fresh. Then we see this gorgeous 6x6 (280 to 290) class skylines on the other side of the basin that we were hiking to. Around the same time, another hunter in our group drilled a huge 6x6 (315ish) on private.
I was ready and we keep on going. The 6x6 that were were going towards dived over the ridge which we saw him and when we finally got up there, I was already out of breath. Thin air at 9500 feet is no joke. But we made it up there...and bulls were bugling all around. At least 3 different (unique) bugles. So we start working our way through the 8' scrub oaks trying to find them. Getting scraped up / smacked in the face about branches rushing to a ledge to peer down into various benches. The bugles were about 200 yards away or so, we were in elk. Just needed a clearing.
Sure enough we see a bull, 450y toss up binos and dang!! A spike. Could tell he was young by the bugle but then I saw him working his way to 4 cows. Get through more brush and decided to see if a bull was with the cows...found an opening. They were 300 yards away. Then a highway of elk started coming, all around us...looking for a bull but nothing yet.
Finally!! Antlers above the oaks below. Get behind my gun, using my backpack as rear rest...not a big bull but legal. Stoked for another opportunity on the last day. Get my cross hairs on him and there was a cow on the other side. FLIP!! I am shooting a 338 RUM with 260 grain Hammers. That would kill both. The cow finally steps away and he is quartering so steep away, but It was my shot...I aimed and far side shoulder but that put the cross hairs in the flank.
I let her fly. A single shot...followed by a thwwaaaapp. I hit him and as the cows bolted off we didn't see him with them. Some of the cows ran right up to us. After a few minutes not exactly sure of the outcome I see the leaves in the bush next to where I shot him move. Reminded me of a tip of a fishing rod when it get a nibble. RELIEF! He must have dropped and kicking the bush. I stay behind my gun for a bit...until it stops. About a minute or so.
I go down there, can't find him. I always underestimate how tall that brush is, its over my head. I start thinking he snuck off. Heart is sinking...then I look around and don't see blood. With the muzzle blast and recoil I couldn't spot the shot...just could hear the impact. Trying to stay positive I keep on looking and there he was...hung up in the oaks....not going to lie I about teared up. It was an emotional week with extreme highs and lows. The shot dropped him, went through the flank, liquefied the lungs, and exited out the neck / shoulder.
We called in the packers, quartered him up and took a nap waiting. It was incredible being able to use mules to haul out the meat and ride horses out. First time riding in at least 7 years, but even though it was rough terrain, I was happy to not have to hike that meat out.
I'll do a brief day by day
Day 1:
Hike in about 2 miles to these cliff faces to glass into a basin that is next to private land. Sure enough 30 minutes glass a good 6x5 bull is slowly working his way to us at 700 yards. He came to about 540 yards and had him in my cross hairs several times...but since we were cliffed out I could not get closer. With the thick brush, shooting prone is off the table and you need to free hand or tall shooting sticks, luckily I have the Tricer GTP-RS which is extremely handy. My problem was i dropped my back and needed it as a rear rest at that distance. I could have squeezed the trigger but without the pack rest it was a 50/50 shot of getting him down and the last thing I wanted to do is end my hunt opening morning. He was a nice bull, bigger than I got last year but I let him pass. No sense of wounding one.
We hiked further into the basin to get closer but he disappeared in the thick stuff. Spotted tons of elk on private land in the valley and several bears at 1200y that I decided to let live. Around noon we hike out to come up with afternoon game plan because there were tons of elk on private we had access to with the game plan to get my dad on one. Conditions were rough, hike in was about 3" of snow but the hike out was 3" of slick mud.
Evening comes and my dad gets on the heard and we were on the otherside of the property incase they popped out. My dad gets a shot off, wounds it and the bull goes into the thick stuff and all his cows run off. I go through the cedars trying to find him and nothing....tough night.
Day 2:
Hike back to cliff face and glass for several hours, seeing nothing on public. Several bulls on private in the valley but nothing we could hunt. Get a call on the radio saying they found my dad's bull, he looks dead laying the sun for the last hour. 15 minutes we got another call the radio that the bull was actually alive at 1030 yards, and I was asked if I was willing to take a poke at it at 1030 yards instead of trying to sneak up on it in the cedars. I said sure, we hike back out get the big spotters and work our way over about 1.5 hours later.
Once there I got all setup, put my phone skope on my kowa to video the shot. I get setup prone all the time in the world. Long story short, I get my cross hairs on the bull and hit exactly where I thought he was. The perfect shot. We all celebrated and watched the video a couple times. We then get ready to go pack him out. Emotions and jokes were through the roof...as we get close the guide was so confident that he was dead that he went his first without a gun...with my dad following behind (not physically able to keep up). Basically they jumped the bull, ran off like nothing was wrong...and my dad never got a shot off. We started tracking and go to his bed. Found a speck of blood but not what we expected. After looking at the video at least 20 more times, we realized that what I thought was his body was actually a rock right next to him and that is what I hit.
Man talk about a low after a high. I aimed at the wrong spot, thought it was his body turned out to be a rock. That night we glass from the trucks / roads and see some huge bulls in NF. Saw some bulls right at dusk come back on private my dad can hunt.
Day 3:
I hike into a different spot on NF, this required a drive to top of mountain / dropped off and hike down. On the hike down there were a half dozen other hunters we passed but we were dropping way down about 1500 feet to get within half a mile of private land to catch them as they cross on public. We spot a couple of huge bulls and fight to get in range. But the country is unforgiving, thick scrub oaks everywhere and struggling to find to get an opening to take a shot. We continue scooting down the hill and get to about 500 yards from the private boundary (we do not have permission). There were about half a dozen legal bulls slowly working their way to use and cows everywhere. I had a "barely" legal 4x3 at 375 yards that I passed on because the bull of my dreams was slowly working his way over. Huge 6x6, we estimated about 330 to 340 class.
So we estimated where he may hope the fence and work to get into a good shooting position. Well he moved EXACTLY as we had hoped. Hoped the fence and stood there 450 yards. I get set up steady with my system and let her fly! NOTHING!! WTF...so I rack another...miss. At this point i start to fall apart, i have no clue how I am missing....bull keeps walking towards me. Now at 350 yards...miss another couple of times.
I am dying inside...bull keeps working his way over and I fire and miss my final two bullets (I only brought 6 for the hike in). Bull gets to about 270 yards and stands there broadside, tormenting me that I cannot take a shot. My heart was in my stomach...this was everything I had wanted, hiked in about 4 miles found the bull I wanted and couldn't get it done...after watching it my guide said i was shooting about 8' over his back. We come to realize that I put my turret back to 0 instead of 0 stop. So I was 20 MOA high. I couldn't believe it. A mistake I will never make again.
The hike out was brutal, 4 miles about 1500 elevation gain though slick / sloppy mud. I would take 6 or 7 miles on firm ground any day over that mess. That night we took it easy and drove on the other side of the valley to see if we could cut tracks. Never did, drank a few beers and went to sleep early.
Day 4:
Hike back to cliffside, but the weather never cooled off enough for the ground to freeze and yet it snowed about 4 inches. So the hike was not fun, those few miles sucked. In addition, my dad was setup on private land and as the elk were working their way to him...another private land owner was chasing them away with his trucks...pushing them back to his own land. We were all angry, such a douche bag blatantly breaking the law using his trucks to heard them back on his land. Our outfitter video it for 15 minutes, him driving back and forth on the road pushing them towards his friends in blinds. I got asked if I wanted to hike back into the spot I shot at the bull the day before, but I was beat and said no. This was our easier day out there, only hiking 7 miles. Most days were 10 to 12. That night we glass some big bulls standing right were I took my shoot.
Day 5:
Last day of the season and I woke up at 4:15 am, sat up and said I am going to kill a bull today. @Truduct saying about his kids "killers gonna kill" rang through my mind. I also remembered how I would tell my wife how great it would be to have a shitty week and to get on one on the last day. I now take it back but I knew it was my day.
To get back to the spot were we had been seeing the bulls required more effort though, too much snow up high so it would required 5 mile hike in and climb to get to the spot. I was motivated, legs felt fresh from taking the day before easy and we set off. As we set off, a bull was bugling his tail off on private. I took it as a good sign. About half way in, I cut a lion track on the trail. Pretty cool and it was fresh. Then we see this gorgeous 6x6 (280 to 290) class skylines on the other side of the basin that we were hiking to. Around the same time, another hunter in our group drilled a huge 6x6 (315ish) on private.
I was ready and we keep on going. The 6x6 that were were going towards dived over the ridge which we saw him and when we finally got up there, I was already out of breath. Thin air at 9500 feet is no joke. But we made it up there...and bulls were bugling all around. At least 3 different (unique) bugles. So we start working our way through the 8' scrub oaks trying to find them. Getting scraped up / smacked in the face about branches rushing to a ledge to peer down into various benches. The bugles were about 200 yards away or so, we were in elk. Just needed a clearing.
Sure enough we see a bull, 450y toss up binos and dang!! A spike. Could tell he was young by the bugle but then I saw him working his way to 4 cows. Get through more brush and decided to see if a bull was with the cows...found an opening. They were 300 yards away. Then a highway of elk started coming, all around us...looking for a bull but nothing yet.
Finally!! Antlers above the oaks below. Get behind my gun, using my backpack as rear rest...not a big bull but legal. Stoked for another opportunity on the last day. Get my cross hairs on him and there was a cow on the other side. FLIP!! I am shooting a 338 RUM with 260 grain Hammers. That would kill both. The cow finally steps away and he is quartering so steep away, but It was my shot...I aimed and far side shoulder but that put the cross hairs in the flank.
I let her fly. A single shot...followed by a thwwaaaapp. I hit him and as the cows bolted off we didn't see him with them. Some of the cows ran right up to us. After a few minutes not exactly sure of the outcome I see the leaves in the bush next to where I shot him move. Reminded me of a tip of a fishing rod when it get a nibble. RELIEF! He must have dropped and kicking the bush. I stay behind my gun for a bit...until it stops. About a minute or so.
I go down there, can't find him. I always underestimate how tall that brush is, its over my head. I start thinking he snuck off. Heart is sinking...then I look around and don't see blood. With the muzzle blast and recoil I couldn't spot the shot...just could hear the impact. Trying to stay positive I keep on looking and there he was...hung up in the oaks....not going to lie I about teared up. It was an emotional week with extreme highs and lows. The shot dropped him, went through the flank, liquefied the lungs, and exited out the neck / shoulder.
We called in the packers, quartered him up and took a nap waiting. It was incredible being able to use mules to haul out the meat and ride horses out. First time riding in at least 7 years, but even though it was rough terrain, I was happy to not have to hike that meat out.
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