- Island’s Elk – 2008
It’s October again, and you know what that means. Elk Hunting. Once again, Kelly Jr. and I had elk permits for area 31 which includes Little Mountain and Currant Creek.
For the past couple of days we had scouted a valley off of upper Marsh Creek where we had see several nice bulls including a monster seven pointer. There had been at least two six point shooters and six or more smaller six and five point bulls.
Dad and Scott joined us so we had an addition two pairs of eyes, and we headed out to Little Mountain late Tuesday night, where we drove in as far as we could and slept in our trucks.
In the morning, before first light, Dad and Kelly Jr. headed down a ridge to the South of the valley and Scott and i headed down a ridge farther North. Over the morning we saw several bulls, and heard many more bugling, but I only saw one worth shooting and he was gone over the next ridge before I could get a clean shot. We saw one other nice six pointer, but his 5/6 was broken off just above the fourth on on side. I think in all we saw about a dozen different bulls throughout the morning.
Late in the morning we became road hunters and drove all over the West side of Little Mountain, searching all of our usual haunts for elk, and mostly came up dry. We saw a couple of small bulls and a couple cows, but nothing more. When evening was on it’s way, at about 5:00pm, we decided to take a ride farther Southeast and look out over Currant Creek Valley and Dry Hollow. From the top of Currant Creek Ridge, (which, by the way, is a breathtaking look down) we spotted a large herd of elk a little farther down the valley, almost a mile away. We could see several nice bulls including a several five pointers, a couple small six pointers, a small seven by six and one good size six pointer.
We decided that we would head farther along the ridge and try to find a place right above them where we could take a shot. I figured if I could take him at up to 700 yards if I could get a clean shot without any cows, so we headed along the ridge. We found a place that we figured would be right above them, but when we snuck out on the edge, we found that they had moved closer to the ridge we were on, so we couldn’t see most of the herd below us, but we must have had too much noise because they then started running down the valley away from us. I laid down and started scoping the bulls until I found the biggest one, but he was always surrounded by cows. At a closer range I probably could have shot him in the mix, but not from that far away. In only moments, they were 1000 yards away, then 1200, and still moving down the valley.
There is no direct way from the top of Currant Creek Ridge into the bottom of Currant Creek Valley, so we debated on whether to head farther along the ridge and try to get another shot from above, or to make the 20 mile drive on dirt roads to come in from the bottom. There were pros and cons for each plan, but ultimately we decided to make the 20 trip around. We figured this was risky, because in that 40 minutes the elk could go anywhere. Needless to say, Scott and I booked it. I won’t tell you how fast we drove, because it was probably unsafe and more probably illegal, but we made it around to the bottom pretty dang fast.
As we closed the last gate coming off of Dad’s property, and made our way toward Jane’s Meadow where we hoped to find the elk, I asked Scott how far into the valley he thought we should go. He thought we should take the high road and try to get a better view of the meadow. I slowed down a little so we didn’t spook anything and I noticed some enclosures around some bushes next to the road and asked if they were new. No, he said, they had been there a while….and then I saw eight cows straight out ahead of us!
I jumped out of the truck with the rifle just as they bolted for the northern ridge. I layed down and started looking at them through the scope to see if there were any with antlers and I found a small five point up above them. Then I saw four more smaller bulls coming out of the meadow and heading up the hill where the cows went. I thought maybe we had missed the big heard, because earlier, these four had been trailing the large six pointer and his cows. Then Scott said “Wait, here they come!” and the big herd broke out of the meadow trotting right to left across our field of view.
Both of us scanned the herd, Scott through his binoculars, and me through my scope, looking for the best bull. I found one six pointer out in the lead and asked Scott if that was it. “Nope, there’s the big one. Right in the middle of the cows!” I found him in my scope and started following him, but he always had cows around him.
“How far is he?” I asked.
“$#!&, I left the range finder in my truck,” Scott replied, “just lay the crosshairs on the top of his back and it should hit him just right.”
I kept following him in the scope, but there was always cows in front of and behind him. Remembering that Scott had said something about having adjusted the trigger pull on the rifle I was shooting, (I was shooting his custom 30-378) I asked him how his trigger pull was. “Just touch the trigger and…”
While he was saying this, the cows, just for an instant, broke from around him and he was running all alone in my view through the scope, and, without thinking another thought, I tapped the trigger.
Everything went white as the gunsmoke filled my view through the scope, and Scott yelled, “You got him!” My first shot went through his hind quarters and immobilized him. “Pull your bolt, shoot him again!” Scott bellowed, and I did. This time, the shot went through is neck and knocked him around, but still didn’t kill him. I pulled the trigger again, and he didn’t move, so I though I missed. I pulled the trigger a fourth time and it knocked him all the way to the ground, and I thought it was over, but he lifted his head up again.
“Hold it right on his heart this time, the bullets aren’t dropping very far.” Scott said. I quickly reloaded the gun and let out my breath and pulled the trigger one final time.
It was over. Scott leaned down and offered his hand for me to shake, and then I got up and realized I was shaking. I handed the gun to Scott, and said, “I’m shaking too much, make it safe!” He took the gun and cleared it, and I leaned on the truck and calmed down. “That was a great shot,” Scott said, and we got in the truck and headed toward where the bull had fallen.
“Oh, wait, here’s my rangefinder!” Scott said, after we had gone just fifty yards, and he pointed it at where the bull had been.
“Wait, did you pick up the brass?” I asked him.
Overview of the shot trajectory.
“Nope,” he said, so I threw the truck in reverse and backed up to where the brass were laying on the ground.
As I picked them up he pushed the button on the range finder and said, “600 yards! 598 to be exact!”
Wow. I still can’t believe I made that shot. Truthfully, all I did was put the crosshairs where they belonged and pulled the trigger. I owe it all to Scott and the rifle he custom built and the bullets that he custom loads. When we got the elk home and skinned him, we found that all five of my shots had hit true. One in his hind quarters, the next three along his neck and back, and the final one in the heart. Five shots in about 20 seconds, all good. Of course I wish I could have given the bull a cleaner kill with one shot, but it doesn’t always work out that way. The first shot would have killed him eventually, but I knew he deserved better, so the four follow up shots were to make sure he wouldn’t suffer longer than he had to.
We haven’t measured him yet, but he is obviously a much nicer bull than the one I got last year, and he will probably score over 300 points. Not the monster trophy that I had hoped for this year, but a nice, big, respectable bull none-the-less. The only down side is that I already have my bull! I’m done elk hunting for the year! Now what am I going to do?
Well, Kelly still needs to fill out his tag, and Scott has a cow tag for the Sands. I guess I can be the driver!
