Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, November 6, 1995 TAG: 9511060098
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B-6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: JOHN ROKISKY
DATELINE: LENGTH: Long
Fresh rubs are numerous. The pitch really runs from the pines when an elk rubs velvet off his antlers. The rubs are easy to spot. Most are eye level or higher. The white wood underneath is exposed. You wonder how many trees die from elk rubs.
After pursuing what turned out to be a cow elk, I realized I didn't know where anybody was. My loud cow calling drew no response. It was about 30 minutes till dark. I quickly made it back down the hill to the truck where I was joined by Bill James.
A rainstorm, complete with thunder and lightning, came up, but no Dave. Blowing the truck horn brought no response. Bill and I grew concerned as nightfall came. We hiked back up to where we last saw Dave, but our whistling and hollering drew no response. We stumbled onto four mule deer in a sage meadow.
On the way back to the truck we got a response from Dave. All's well that ends well. Western T-bones cooked on the open fire put us to bed happily.
MONDAY: The homegrown tomatoes we brought from Roanoke are ripening and I enjoyed them on my sandwiches. The weather has been real good; however, we're hoping for a change to get these bulls bugling. This afternoon in camp I wore shorts, no shirt and moccasins to relax.
On our evening hunt, we didn't see any elk, but the mule deer were all around us. None was close enough for our 40-yard maximum shooting range.
TUESDAY: This is my day to kill an elk. I've killed three bulls in five years with my bow and all were taken on a Tuesday. I remember a Tuesday two seasons ago: Three bull elk are bugling, answering the cow calls [of my guide]. I have nocked an arrow and have my release ready.
About 60 yards ahead I can hear and see an elk quickly approaching through some lodgepole pine. I catch a glimpse of antlers. What a sight. He's bugling all the way in and walking fast. I can see his whole body now as he opens his mouth and bugles. I can smell his rutting odors and hear his hooves pounding the forest floor. I can see his teeth when he bugles.
I hold draw as he comes to a stop 15 yards broadside. I position my fluorescent [sight] pin right behind his left front leg, but I'm having trouble seeing it properly. Something isn't right. I hold the pin in position and shoot. I quickly lose sight of the arrow, only to hear it ricocheting around the branches of a tree.
The bull bolts, but stops when the guide begins cow-calling. As it stands there I can tell it hasn't been hit. I don't move, realizing if I do it will be spooked. I am able to nock another arrow. The bull is not presenting a good shot. All I can see is his head and neck.
The guide cow-calls again and the bull steps forward, presenting me a broadside shot at what I guess to be 30 yards. Again I have trouble sighting my pins, but I shoot and follow the arrow all the way to the bull. ``Thud!'' It hits and immediately I see it is high on the shoulder. It has me puzzled and disappointed, but almost instantly the bull drops right to the ground and he is down with a grunt and a thud.
This Tuesday doesn't go as well. I am last to cross a creek on a deadfall and I lose my balance. What a lousy way to start a Tuesday.
WEDNESDAY: Colder this morning and heavily overcast. The temperature is in the 20s. Rain last night has quieted the woods.
Our guide gives us the option of sleeping in, but I'm convinced this break in the weather will have the bulls bugling. We decided to hit the spot where we'd seen our first bull the evening before.
The timber is really quiet as we begin our hunt. We hear our first elk bugle at close range, 250 yards. Less than two minutes after we set up and call, a cow and spike bull still in velvet approach from below. The wind is perfect. After 20 minutes of calling they pass by.
A bigger bull stays below and won't advance toward us. We stalk about 150 yards and bugle. He answers, less than 100 yards now.
He is back and forth, back and forth - moving, pacing - within 60 yards. I see his body once, but I can't see his antlers. He gives us one more bugle, then moves off, leaving us frazzled, excited, smiling and exuberant. We were really close to a nice bull this time.
THURSDAY: Headed to Copper Basin. Driving through a meadow in the pickup, I spot a nice bull in the headlights. He trots up and away from us throwing back his head. His antler spread is quite impressive.
Bill jumps out and squeals at him with the bugle call and coaxes a grunting response. Much to our surprise, within earshot, four other bulls get in on the act. The zero temperature is just what the doctor ordered!
Dave and I split up as Bill brings up the rear, cow-calling and bugling. I am sprinting from tree to tree uphill to stay in cover and get closer, but I am unable to catch a glimpse of him, even though I am close enough to hear him breathe the cold air as he bugles and warms up to back off. By 8 a.m., the whole thing is over.
FRIDAY: Up to Poison Peak Meadow, we arrive one hour early and sleep in the truck just to ensure we are where we want to be at daybreak. We head over to the edge of the meadow and Bill turns to ask, ``Should I bugle one time?''
Before he can blow a call, a bull 80 yards in the timber lets out a bugle. Bill bugles back, hoping to make a confrontation. The bull is quiet.
I start moving in on him through deadfalls. The bull bugles again, now 200 yards away, probably with cows and on his way out.
SATURDAY: We take a short hunt. Our plane leaves tomorrow. We head to Missoula to relax and clean up. We finish a great week celebrating Bill's birthday.
No elk this year.
by CNB