Published: October 08, 2009 11:27 pm      

The year of the wrong elk tag

We decided to go to Colorado for the Muzzle-Loading Elk season because that’s the time of the start of the rut and would likely provide the best opportunity to hear the ear-piercing sounds of the bugling bull elk. It would mean we must get closer for a high percentage shot since no scopes are allowed and the effective range of the muzzle loader is much less than that of a rifle. But we wanted the experience of getting within 100 yards of this majestic animal, referred to by the Arapahoe Indians as “ghost creature” for his ability to inhabit an area continually while rarely being seen. We wanted to observe his mannerisms and maneuver in his habitat without disturbing him.

My sons, Chris (age 28) and Jeff, (age 26) and I teamed up with some good friends from Georgia, Dwayne and Jason Turne, for this trip to an area northwest of Denver in the Routt National Forest. We camped at 8,600 feet above sea level and hunted in areas up to 9,980 feet according to our handy GPS. I will admit to one momentary “anxiety attack” the first night when we tried to sleep. With 50% of the earth’s atmosphere in the first 5,000 feet above sea level, we had far less than half the normal oxygen available here in Lauderdale County, but we adjusted quickly and had no real problem with the altitude.



The surroundings



The area we hunted was a magnificent blend of cedars, tall spruce pines, fir (referred to as ‘dark timber’), and aspens sprinkled with small lakes and sagebrush meadows. The aspens, called quakies, ranged from sections of young trees to the 50-60 year old mature forests and colors of the aspen leaves ranged from green to bright yellow to brilliant orange depending on the location and elevation. The night-time sky seemed brighter with no man-made lights to dim the millions of stars of the Milky Way and the air had a fresh smell of impending autumn.

While the energy we expended was significant and our leg muscles and breathing were impacted, we were treated to daily encounters with wildlife that we don’t see around here. We saw pronghorn antelopes grazing in meadows, a coyote chasing a rabbit at close range, two separate bright red foxes with white tipped tails and a black bear scurrying down an aspen tree only 20 yards away as we sneaked over a ridge top following fresh elk sign. We stood in awe as a monster bull moose slipped through the aspens while feeding and stopped for 90 seconds broadside only 30 yards away We saw two other bull moose moving separately through the timbers near water holes.



The wrong tag



One afternoon, Chris and Jason positioned themselves near a meadow between two peaks. Dwayne and I had been a quarter mile away, easing through aspens looking for elk sign and cow calling discreetly. With an hour left before dark we sat on a hilltop to use our binoculars to search the peak a half mile to our west where Dwayne had seen elk on past hunts in the area. As the sun was slowly disappearing behind the mountain, our prize appeared quickly near the top of the peak we were watching. There were eight cows and a wall-hanger bull moving slowly down the mountain sagebrush.

Dwayne bugled loudly and the elk stopped, looked straight at us for 30 seconds, and then resumed their grazing. The herd bull moved left, then right, then left again to make sure his harem of cows traveled where he wanted them to go. Dwayne bugled again and this time the big bull responded with his own bugle that could seemingly be heard in the next county. The bull herded his cows into an aspen cove and hurried down the mountain in our direction to defend his harem, not knowing that Jason and Chris were sitting directly in line with his movement toward us.

This trophy bull, a 6 X 7 behemoth, marched across an open meadow and stopped still 500 yards from Dwayne’s challenging bugle, but only 30 yards from Jason and Chris. Wow! He stood majestically for three full minutes, bugling right in the face of these hunters who could only watch and admire the beauty of this moment in the wild. As a first year hunter in Colorado, Chris had only a cow tag and had to watch as the bull turned finally and hurried back to his harem in the aspen cove back up the mountain. This moment was worth the whole trip and was certainly enough to keep us going back again next year.

Money spent on gas, food, licenses, equipment, and travel for the three of us…a good bit. Number of sore muscles and miles driven to get there and back….considerable.

Ten days in this pristine environment with your sons and friends making memories….PRICELESS