For the majority of the last twenty-five plus years, I have hunted elk with Mike and Dick Ray (Lobo Outfitters).The last ten or so years have started out almost like a precise, planned schedule.First, with an overnight with friends Mike & Becky Allred in Whitesboro, TX, then on to Santa Fe for a nights rest before traveling to High Country Ranch (formerly T-bone Ranch per many old topographical maps) high in the Rockies just off HWY 64 and about 30 miles west of Tres Piedres, New Mexico. With camp set at approximately 8,900 feet and hunting usually higher, I find I need to give my body a wakeup call from the norm of 450 feet; the hold over and extra day helps prepare for change in altitude, climate, etc. As usual, morning before hunt I have a good breakfast (ahh, that good southwest food, today fajitas and eggs), then some brief shopping, any duties to take care of for Lobo at the game and fish department, then up HWY 84 to Romero’s fruit stand north of Espanola where I buy apples for camp (hopefully the local variety if no early damaging frost) and some goodies such as fresh Colorado beans for home.Another hour and a half and I am over Burn Mountain and looking into a beautiful valley at the camp of tents and trailers all set for the arrival of an enthusiastic group eager to be successful in the first rifle season.
Elk camp from the high ground:
First morning of hunt is usually the basic two guides per hunter, with hunt normally giving way to a one on one guide/hunter situation soon.I like to allow my hunting partner the first morning and possibly evening with guide as I break myself in at my own pace. I especially wanted to be on my onthis morning since I felt a tad crippled with a MRI showing a tear in my Achilles and the presence of calcium spurs noted in same area.Turning a hunter loose on his own is not common procedure with Lobo; however, I’ve been hunting ranch the ten years that Lobo has had the lease so I know it pretty well and with so many years hunting with Lobo (starting in ’81) they trust my ability as hunter and know my dedication to lawful protection of wildlife and ranch.
This year the season opened on a Thursday morning and at first light I broke away from Mike Ray and my partner for the hunt, Joe Don Eaves from Tulsa, allowing them to make their substantial hike up to the area we call the Bowl as I take somewhat of a parallel to them but keeping a couple of ridges between us.The wind was extremely gusty from west, but in my face.I had shortly got started up the trail, not yet even in the hunting mode with 10” FA out of the padded holster I carry in pack, but still slung around my neck, when low and behold, I look up and there is a big tan rear end of an elk maybe 25 yards in front of me.I immediately perceive that it is a bull due to overall color around hips and especially tail, however with some low evergreens between us and the fact that he is grazing, I do not see antlers.I am at wits end of what to do as I suspect any needed move on my part will present a noise that will send him fleeing.I want to see plenty of antlers to be convinced he is a first morning shooter, although I am not really into the “Texasheart shots”, so dilemma continued as I began to see some glimpse of hardware as he enjoys his breakfast.Hind sight is, of course, that I should have just backed up and got a plan together, but to help me make a quick decision bull began to just ease into the wind away from me.I make use of the concealment given in his travel forward by getting in to position and set-up with my pack in front of me and small tree or bush behind me to break any silhouette. I began to cow call with great expectation that a satisfying bull will come charging into small clearing for my very taking on this first morning.With not too much surprise I find my cow calling was not convincing so with a very visible trail I began my “search and find” mission.It was not long until there in the timber stood, assumingly, the one I pursued.The distance was well within my capability but I did not like the matting of downfall between us to trust a shot. Once again I start my rendition of a cow elk in desperate need (sometimes I lack perfection in my calling so I am not sure of what need I was expressing to the bull).As I watched this fine bull in the timber with my 10 x 42 WB SLC Swarovski’s, I was reminded of the hunting shows when they zoom in on the bull as he looks at the camera, then does his careful surveying of his domain.There were seconds I felt as though this bull was zeroed in on me, but then he would sweep his careful inspection off in another direction.It was those brief moments of no visual contact that I used to set-up and prepare once again for that dynamic moment when he would answer the sweet sounds of my calling, stroll in my direction, and delight me to a pleasing shot.Just when I thought I was about to bring him my way, I see a small elk rise up from between us and scamper off.Surely it was not those wonderful sounds I was sending through the air that prompted her exit, but be it whatever, the bull decides to go with Missy.I trail more, call more, then decide I am giving in to a loose, loose situation….morning is still young.
Only a few minutes pass before I hear bugling just up the ridge so I trek onward.This time I foolishly miss sighting a cow between myself and the bull and she bolts with all the magnificent noise a cow can make in the timber (what, they think they are a freight train or something?).The bull comes somewhat in my direction seeming more concerned as to where his mate has disappeared to than what spooked her.Although a nice bull, I do not make a decision to ready until he gets a tad too much downwind of me and makes his own commitment, which is to get the hooey from this scene like the cow who left like an Amtrak locomotive.I continue on and finish out my morning rather uneventful.At camp I find that out of eight hunters, I had top honors for highlights of the day thus far. (In other words, no one saw much.)
As is custom in Lobo’s camp there is no hunting in peak bedding time of elk (generally 10 AM to 4 PM) so around 3 PM Mike came by my trailer and suggested I might try Buckman’s Draw in the evening, he’d take Joe Don again then he and I would team up the next morning.The option was very pleasing and I welcomed the chance to get back to this area as I had taken my first bull on this ranch there in 2000 (see New Ground) then a second a few years back the day after my good friend Mark Hargrove had taken his first elk there with his 9” FA 454.After departing my party around 3:30 it was quickly in my walk to my evening’s perch in the draw that I began to realize that my summer break-in of a new pair of Rimrock hiking boots had not been complete. I was feeling the undeniable pain of a blister on my right heal, and it felt to be a bad one.
With a little ache in my left heal from previous mentioned ailment, and blister on my right, I hobble into the draw.With the wind still howling I find a promising spot overlooking two wallows, some dandy trails, and the small meadow.After considerable pruning and fine tuning my “blind”, I settled-in with pack between my legs, made some mental notes of distances gathered from my Bushnell Yardage Pro range finder, and then began my wait.Before I had left camp there was talk of the temperatures falling to ten degrees overnight, with this possible discomfort and my aching heals I questioned the unpleasant anticipation I had for the days to come.Soon the chill, comfort, and uneasiness forced me to stand.In moments I hear hoof beats of running elk coming from my right.As I watch a cow and calf run down trail into meadow, I promptly sit down and get into position.Within a couple of minutes, and after the cow and calf had gone, a decent bull follows and broadsides to me approximately fifty yards in the meadow.With the adversities that seem to be dominating this hunt, I knew with the appearance of this nice 5 X 5 bull I was, like Little Richard so bluntly put it in the late fifties,“Ready, ready Teddy”.The barrel of the 454 now rested on the rolled-up piece of carpet I carry and had laid on top of my pack. I began my trigger pull with the duplex crosshairs of the 2X Leopold scope (secured by four Zee rings in a customized T’SOB mount) resting just behind his shoulder.At the blast, the bull showed no sign of taking the hit of the 260 grain FA jacketed bullet travelling just under 1900 fps (36/H110).As bull seemed to search for his companions, I was convinced I could see a hit correctly behind shoulder, but as often happens bull seemed to treat hit as no more than a bite of a bug.The bull started to walk further away, but a whistle (or was it a shout, I remember my face mask was interfering) stopped him for my follow up shot.In seconds the bull showed that unmistakable weave, and then collapsed.As the skies gave way to darkness, I indulged in the field dressing chores and grasped the thought that the hunt was over.Considering the facts, although it was only day one of season, I was unusually glad.Being in this particular draw was a memorable bonus to say the least.
With the elk dressed and covered with branches (and my sweatshirt for scent), he was left for the night and ooooh how nice it was the next morning in the warm sleeping bag as the hunters went out experiencing the eight degrees and bottled water froze in trailer where I slept.Later in the morning we retrieved my bull and placed him on the hanging pole for more cooling.I enjoyed the company of new faces and the presence among my longtime hunting family for a few days; however upon calling home I found need developing for me at one of my jobs.With a fairly new wife wanting me home, chances of snow in the evening, and an opportunity to assist at work, I close elk hunt early for 2009 and start my fourteen hour drive home early Sunday on the season’s fourth morning.As I closed main gate and gave one more glance to this beautiful ranch I found it hard to hold tears back sorrowfully knowing this could be my last time here. I know the day will eventually come when physical and/or financial threats will possibly overpower my desire to enjoy this kind of pleasure that I love so much.For the moment it was best just to reflect on the adventure I had just stored in my memory.Sure the hunt was fast, much too short, and my time with “the family” seemed sadly so brief, but I did miss my wife and it felt good to be able to take care of some obligations at work.Heck, heading home with an admirable trophy and excellent tablefare in the bed of my truck helped ease the tension and yep, it was another bull from Buckman’s Draw.
