A Quiet Western Front

Welcome back to the second installment of my first hunting trip west. The excitement to shoot my first elk was overwhelming. I had packed, prepared my equipment, and even tried to condition my body for the challenges of the hunt. There I sat, the sun was cresting its light upon the eastern skyline. A light breeze crossed my face as I started to glass the slope over the valley. My hunting partner was positioned to my right about 200 yards away. It wasn't long before I realized the light brown bodies moving through the aspens were elk. Having never seen an elk in person added to the thrill. Was it going to be the first morning of the hunt to get a shot at my first elk?

Then the elk started to move quicker than expected. They had been moving from right to left which meant the shooting distance was decreasing. It wouldn't take long that they would be within 300 yards. While glassing from across the valley, the elk's body language changed abruptly. The herd of 8-10 cows balled together and with a few head shakes they quickly headed over the ridge disappearing instantly. For a first hand experience it was a great encounter.We would spend the rest of the day exploring the ridge tops and glassing the valleys from afar.

Day two started much the same. Elk were spotted in the same spot and we in position for another encounter. Well what quickly felt like everything falling into place, fell apart like a sandcastle in a rainstorm. The range of these elk was just over 500 yards from where I was setup. My hunting partner though, was in the perfect spot. I radioed over and described the location of the elk. After several attempts, the message just wasn't being received or at least my hunting partner didn't have eagle eyes like myself. The elk had finally broken into the open at the top of the ridge, a cool 600 yards from me alone. With a hail Mary shot my partner took a chance. There was no reaction to an impact and certainly no hair went flying. We watched the 8 head of elk trot over the slope side and out of site.

It would later be determined that the wrong reticle was used to gauge the elk's distance in my partner's scope. No worries, it was day 2 and we have plenty of land to cover through the week. We rode through the landscape and made our way back to camp. While glassing at several it wasn't long before a huge sandwich was feeding my hunger. It was at this time that I was able to sight in my rifle. While several attempts were made to get this completed at home, it just never worked out. A stick and piece of cardboard later and my make shift target was up. It didn't take long before my shots were more than satisfactory on target. My hunting partner was gracious enough to lend me a rifle for the first morning sit. I wasn't entirely comfortable with shooting a rifle for the first time at an animal. If the shot wasn't on target it could lead to a non-fatal shot which could permanently injury it.

The third morning I was completely prepared. The Kimber 8400 30-06 was shouldered and ready for action. I selected the Winchester 168 gr. ballistic tip bullets with black oxide coating. This selection would prove to be very effective and cost worthy. While the view was spectacular no elk would be seen on day two. The day was spent glassing the landscape and interacting with other hunters to gain intel. Several hunters were on the prowl for mule deer. We were happy to share locations of bucks we had seen in our travels and aided two sets of hunters to their harvest. Since we had seen the same group of elk for two days, it made sense to start there again the next morning.

Before we could start day 4, my head began to pound. Apparently starring through binoculars all day can really mess with your head. It hit me so hard that I ended up tossing my cookies on the wood pile outside the camper and skipped dinner for an early bedtime. My hunting partner shuck me at 4am for wake up and ask if I was alright. I could have felt better and jumped out of bed to provide my daily breakfast dish (eggs in basket) for the morning ride out. He was amazed that my health had bounced back so fast, it had to because this was our last day.

We decided to sit next to each other so that we could maximize our chances in viewing the heavy aspen forest. With tripods, binocs, and little hope we settled in behind the sage landscape from our side of the valley. The decline in hope was evident on my hunting partner's face as every moment ticked by. It was in the back of my mind as well but he optimist that I am kept a good poker face showing. Then my eagle eyes inherited by my grandfather came through. Two lone elk moving slowly in the aspen thicket were shining like a silver dollar in a storm drain. Of course it took a few minutes for my buddy to see the elk I spotted. Since we choose to sit down low on the slope, the shooting distance was about 250 yards.

The shooting sequence felt like an eternity. Waiting for the broadside of either of the cows was comparable to sitting through the SATs. The gun was snuggled nicely in the tripod, my breathing was calm as could be in the given situation, and the scope's cross hairs were tracking the body movements of the elk. Finally a small clearing was chosen in which one the elk stood still in. With a quick GO message to my partner the trigger was squeezed. With a bit of distance between us in the elk the shot was able to seen when impacted on the elk. The body language screamed as direct hit and the heel kicked taking a few more steps forward. As it did, another opening in the aspens allowed a quick follow up shot like a rebounding puck in front of an empty hockey net. I took it. The elk dropped in it's tracks.

We did it! A self guided hunt in the Colorado mountains for elk. Truly a high end goal for me in my hunting career completed. The excitement inside me could help but vibrate out of body, a few fist pumps in the air and huge man hug to my hunting partner and friend. The next five hours would be spent hauling the meat out of the valley and that story worth reading as I get to lay hands on my big brown prize.

Here are some of the views from the where the shot was taken:

West We Go

My trip began not at the airport, nor the long cold drive through the canyon....where got a flat tire at 3am, but at the 3 feet long tread mill in my home office. A hunting trip out west would be my most adventurous feat yet. I knew that elevation was going to kick my behind anyway, but if I could give my muscles a quick overhaul that it would be a little easier during the climbs up and down the valleys. After a few workouts on the treadmill and a 30 lb phony backpack....I felt more confident but surely not in shape.

The opportunity to hunt western Colorado came from a colleague of mine. Conversations of ordering numerous supplies with him grew tiring and one day I mentioned..."Oh I am going hunting this weekend". From there on out, we can spend only seconds talking about business before we hardly get a word out about how our hunting ventures went. It wasn't long thereafter when the words muttered out...."you should come out here and hunt"... It felt like seconds after that I knew I was going. I am not really sure how being gitty like a school feels but yeah I was comparable to that.

Now Pennsylvania has always been so simplistic to obtain a hunting license. You go to Walmart or a local gun shop...say "I need a license" and twenty minutes later you have tags on your back. I found myself zombie faced and staring at the regulations for CO on the Internet. Aside from a DNA sample, background check and Christmas Story decoder ring I would also have to jump through hoops to obtain an Elk tag. Ok, well its not that complicated but I did need some assistance along the way. We figured out the area we wanted to hunt (similar to WMUs in PA), and the date range of our hunting adventure. We planned on just doing cow elk so we could get an over the counter tag....no lottery thank god.

I was sitting at my desk when my friend called me in August..."hey I am standing in line at the DOW (Dept of Wildlife)....did you get your tag yet?" Me of course "oh crap". How could I forget? Then it clicked...not my brain but my mouse in my hand. "Yea Jeff I am online right now buying my tag". It was that easy. Colorado keeps an up-to-date spreadsheet with the animals, WMUs, and available tags left. A couple more clicks later and I had a receipt of my elk tag. It was suppose to be that easy....my tag didn't show up until days before my departure. Something about the company who had one job to do and send out tags to those kind folks that bought dropped the ball. No worries the plan came together.

I lined up the trip to arrive a few days earlier in Colorado to assist with attitude adjustment. If you have the chance to do so...I highly recommend it. Those couple of days couldn't have felt longer knowing I would soon embark on my elk hunting venture. Another level of excitement was quickly building too, my colleague Jeff in which I concocted this crazy idea with...we had never met in person. Let alone spending a week in the wilderness together, alright we were staying in a pretty sweet camper so it wasn't like 'Deliverence".

The taxi ride was short to his house and before I knew it we were shaking hands and sharing a beer in his kitchen. Wait it was a soda, because we were leaving once my crap was loaded into the truck. The drive was bittersweet. I had spent the evening at a business dinner where some grand idea was to eat at some crazy derkastan restaurant. The co-worker next me agreed to find the most normal thing on the menu and hope we could hold it down. Our host at the dinner loved to hear himself talk and as we wait for him to finally sign the check we could leave. Needless to say, the gas I passed on the trip west gagged me and Jeff in the truck.

Remember that flat tire I mentioned earlier, you know at 3am, yeah it was also on fire. What a way to start a trip, shaking bottles of water to put out a tire fire. A very used and borrowed utility trailer shared its problems with us on this trip, that wouldn't be the only flat tire. A few hours later we woke up from the Walmart parking in Rifle, CO. I was freezing cold because the heat stopped working and decided to college shop for breakfast in Walmart. Yes, I paid for my stuff, college shop means you find the first edible thing to eat you see when you are typically drunk. Walmarts in walking distance of college campuses...solid business plan.

A fresh spare tire and a load of groceries for the week and we were set out on our last leg of the trip. It took us a while to find a suitable campsite for the fifth wheel and before I knew it we were setup. With a few hours to spare, we figured lets take a ride and scout some areas. Of course the game warden stopped by to check out licenses and it provided the opportunity to discuss any successes she had heard about. It seemed most folks were filling tags in the area. It was a good interaction with Janny law and fueled out hopes in tagging out as well. The landscapes of our campsite alone were incredible as you can see from the pictures I shared below. But our hunting views would prove to be even better, in my next blog.