The Rays are always searching and bidding on more hunting leases, so I did not give the matter much thought when I received my summer 2000 Newsletter from Lobo Outfitters mentioning new private ranch property. As hunt time neared, I received my license application along with a note saying I would be hunting on a large new ranch between Chama and Taos. Now my curiosity was aroused, and better yet, it was suggested that due to the distance from Lobo’s private cabins south of Pagosa Springs, we would be staying in full tent camps on the ranch.
Surviving the loss last year of my favorite elk hunting spot, I never abandoned faith in Dick and Mike Ray, that given time they could come up with fine replacement land. Truth is, I never expected the replacement land to equal the honey holes around Gray Basin north of Chama that were lost. However, I trusted my outfitters enough in ’99 to show me the best hunt possible as they had since my first in 1981. As proof, I booked for 2000 before leaving with my 5 X 5 bull in October ’99.
Learning of my 2000 booking when I returned home, friend Frank Davis of San Antonio proclaimed he wanted to go with me on the hunt. The fact that our mutual friend and hunting companion of the ’99 hunt, Jommy Holder of Beaumont, had taken a nice 6 x 6 bull, certainly had a little influence on Frank’s decision. I informed Frank that due to an upcoming change in season dates in New Mexico, I had left season choice up to Dick with option on first and second hunt. Since their early hunts book extremely fast, he needed to promptly get his down payment to Pagosa. He did just that.
As time for hunt approached, Joyce decided to stay home and let Frank and me journey together to New Mexico. Joyce had traveled with me for so many years on this hunt, I hoped this was not a bad omen. Not that I had reservations of traveling the 20 hours with Frank, but there was another ladder to walk under. To explain, seems that Frank was not the hunting world’s luckiest elk hunter. His first and only try at elk occurred in the early eighties in the mountains of Idaho where his elk hunt ended on his first mounting of his four-legged steed. The horse reared and fell back sending Frank to the local municipal hospital. Need I say more?
Our drive into the ranch, nested high in the lower San Juan’s, gave sight to one of the prettiest falls in years. The mountain foliage, with every color in the rainbow, was breath taking. The ranch was some 6-8 miles off paved roads but very accessible by vehicles. At one lookout point along the way, we could gaze off in the valley onto the ranch and focus on the superb camp that awaited us. What a way to greet and pump up the hunters. As to be expected, Lobo had done its finest to present the comforts of home into the camp of canvas. The site was made up of three old travel trailers for the staff of guides and cooks, one huge dining and cook tent, and five guest wall tents, complete with wood floors and stoves. We were immediately pleased with what we saw in accommodations nestled in such fine looking elk haunts, but we were in for yet one more bit of good news.
Mike informed us on arrival at camp that we need not unload gear for we, along with Donnie Tucker of Alabama and guides John Laner and Duwayne Shahan, would be going further up the valley to a spike camp. My time in elk country with John and Duwayne went back for several years; therefore, I knew we were in for a real treat. Getting away from the hustle and bustle of a large camp suited us fine, so we began our slow 2.5-mile drive up a 4 x 4 road. Just as we started to pull out, Mike hurried over to the truck to remind us that we would be camping in a very low impact area. In other words, keep the noise down, you are amongst them. How right he was. We backed our trucks up near two, far from spartan, tents and settled in. Soon we were having our evening meal of pan-fried steaks and potatoes while being serenaded by bugles. At one point just about dark, a blast sounded from just across the nearby stream. Frank looked up and saw the bull standing at about 150 yards out. That is certainly being amongst them…low impact for sure.
For the first morning John asked if I wanted to venture off below camp to a bottleneck in the valley where elk had been crossing. That way he could spend a little time getting more acquainted with Frank. They and Duwayne and Donnie would head up into the meadows above camp. The plan was perfect as for as I was concerned.
The morning was very foggy as I headed east below camp. Although wind was in my face as I made the slight descent, I knew that theoretically the breeze would shift later allowing me to be able to hunt back to camp without the worry of wind on the back of my neck. After a 20 to 30 minute walk, I chose a deadfall to wait out daybreak, wind change, and early bugles. All worked as plan with only one hitch: I lacked about 200 yards going far enough into the bottleneck. As the wind turned, two bulls and a small heard of cows literally blasted their way across the floor of the valley, their nostrils hot with my scent. A safe shot was never presented, but somewhere back towards camp I heard the crack of a rifle. Could it be? I continued a very enjoyable morning hunt, then returned to camp meeting up with John and Frank on arrival. They projected a story of Frank shooting this small bull, and although a pretty convincing tale, I just had my doubts in the size of the antlers part. Small bull first morning…hmmm, I just knew these two better than that, but did not do too much questioning as we waited for Duwayne to return to make use of more muscle for the loading of Frank’s "little" bull in the truck.
I could hardly believe the size of Mr. Hard Luck Frank’s bull. He was a full-blown 6 x 7 of the 330 variety taken in the first hour of daylight. (Looked like ol’Frank may not be a total jinx.) The story was almost as good as the bull itself. Seems that in their stalk on bugles in the fog, they walked into a heard of cows. The cows, aware of their presence, began chirping and barking with alarm. John thought maybe a short bellow might calm them enough so that he and Frank might back away or at least keep them from fleeing abruptly. Great idea to everyone EXCEPT the herd bull that was accompanying them just out of sight. With the thought of another bull sniffing his harem, he let out a scream and came charging to meet the challenge. With the spine tingling wail, John quickly set up a pair of shooting sticks for Frank to steady with if need. With Frank down on his knees reading the sticks, John had the height advantage to see the bull’s antlers promptly approaching. Frantically John states, "I think you will be satisfied…SHOOT HIM." At 25 yards, Frank did just that. Being filled with adrenaline, the bull regained his balance and tried to depart with John repeating, "shoot again….again". All of which, Frank did, proving he could have a good luck elk hunt.
One might think this enough excitement for one day, but I still felt I could stand a tad more by evening. Rain was looking inevitable around 4:00 PM as John and I left Frank enthusiastically in charge of the evening meal. We headed out to the area I had been that morning as Donnie and Duwayne headed back above camp. As usual John chose the area for our afternoon wait but let me pick the spot that I might feel comfortable for my particular weapon. (Today I was carrying my 10" Freedom Arms 454 stoked with 260 grain FA solid point bullets backed by a very stiff dose of H110 powder.) I settled in next to a log overlooking approximately 100 square yards of park enclosed by three sides of timber. John lay back against a large fir some 50 yards to my left. The plan was to wait about an hour or so, and if no company came, he would breach the silence with some of his calling tricks. Before an hour had passed, the rain came and although not a downpour, shelter such as a fir could sure beat the spot I had chosen. I glanced over at John noticing how dry he looked; consequently, I decided I would make a move. (One John never saw me make.) My move placed me not in an ideal shooting position, but I was dry and hidden. John’s first bugle was quickly answered. He then began a series of persuasive cow calls. The bugles in the timber were definitely getting closer. After a couple more romantic cow purrs, that long pause of silence came. Then out of nowhere appears this bull walking right to me. Gee whiz! How do they just appear all of a sudden with out a crunch or crack? This fellow walked to only steps of the log I had been at earlier 20 yards away. At that distance a closer look with optics was not needed, and I declared this guy was not a first day bull. Moments later the bull exited with gusto giving up on finding the lost cow. Within a half-hour John let out another bugle. It too was answered. I thought it possibly the same small bull and really felt little excitement. It was soon apparent that the seductive cow calls were luring a bull. In the next anxious moments, I wondered if it was merely the same bachelor coming for another look. Once again like magic, there’s a bull crossing to my left, walking slowly towards John as though he had those last sexy peeps pinpointed. Ironically, the source of those erotic sounds, John, was now doing his best impression of tree bark with the bull less than 30 yards away. Peering through the branches, my Swarovski SLC 10x42s reveal that this critter was indeed a new player and plenty wide and heavy for a 5 x 5. Should I pass on a second bull on first afternoon? Would I be happy with him? Was I prepared to end my hunt? All this passed in my thoughts. The bull took another step, placing a limb in my view and shortening the distance to John, who thinks I am at the log and possibly can not make the shot or have chosen not to shoot. With one more step into the clear, I made my decision to not tempt fate. I would be delighted to take my fifth in a row in five years of revolver hunting for elk. With earlier readings taken with my Bushnell 600 rangefinder, I knew my target was near or inside 50 yards. From my sitting position I cock then raise the FA and place the red enhancement of the HoloSight II just behind the shoulder. Kazaam! With the blast the bull bolted to the timber from which he had so silently come. His crash was quite audible, as was my laughter when we discovered him to carry six points to a side.
Second day morning was the end of the hunt for the trio with Donnie bagging a nice 5 x 6. The new ground had proved plentiful in elk and beautiful in picturesque terrain. I actually believe the property pushes a precious equal to that of my once favorite Gray Basin. In some ways it may in fact surpass it as a hunting ranch. A few more years will give it ample time for final judgment. I plan to be there absorbing all the excitement I can from this new ground. BB
Dick or Mike Ray 4821 A., HWY 84 Pagosa Springs, Co. 81147 Telephone: 970-264-5546
