| Baskey1414 |
09-03-2016 01:28 PM |
Archery Elk
Here is my girlfriends Kelsey's story:
What a crazy first two days of archery season!! After Paul called in and arrowed a 6X6 bull on opening day, we were going back the next day to recover his elk. We bumped his bull from his bed in the early morning and realized the shot was not as good as our first impression. We backed out after being poured on for a hour and decided to come back in the evening. It wasn’t very late in the evening before we spotted a cow elk wandering along the ridge heading into dense bush to escape the strong winds. Not a moment later a bull appeared and followed the cow into the brush. We didn’t get a good look at him but we could tell this bull had mass and was unfortunately not Paul’s bull. Not one to waste an amazing opportunity the decision was made to go after this bull. Sorry Paul. The wind was screaming and forced us to circle far around the hills and dense brush so we would be downwind from the bull. Paul found a good clearing and set up. I ranged everything in the clearing and everything was basically 16-20yards away. The anticipation of having a bull that close gave me such an adrenaline rush. Paul gave a couple cow calls but after awhile we decided that with the wind so strong we’d have to go deeper into the bush so the bull would have a chance to hear us.
We setup again with Paul behind me calling like a cow who was being dogged by another bull and to our surprise this time it was met with a bugle and another cow call. From where the call was I had no shot. So Paul waved me back to setup at a better angle closer to him. Another bugle. This time more aggressive than the last. I got my bow ready and stared out to see any sign of him. A squealing bugle, close, really close. I still didn’t have eyes on him. And all of sudden it happened. In an instant. Like a bullet train the elk trotted in, right past me. So close I could reach out and feel his hide. He trotted past and I thought that would be my chance. Like a hound dog he went straight to Paul who he thought was a cow being pestered by another bull. He stopped just past me as his antlers got tangled in the aspens and I drew back and stepped out to take a shot but he was straight away from me. It would be too much of a quartering shot. Then Paul stepped out and the bull spun. Everything from there on had to have been instinct. I stepped back into my spot so he wouldn’t run me over and just as he spun around like a barrel horse he gave me a quick broadside shot at arms reach. Thwack! I could see my purple and pink fletching buried in his right side, a little high but still amazing penetration and I watched him take off, almost run into a bush and then b lined for thick cover.
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I stepped out and Paul started telling me how cool it was to have an elk that close, he was so pumped about the experience and just how perfect our setup was. He had no idea that I actually shot him. I couldn’t speak, just wave my arms and finally said, “I got him. I shot him.” Paul was amazed but instantly worried as he didn’t think that he presented me a good shot. But I quickly assured him that I had indeed hit the bull behind the shoulder. And showed him my quiver with my lucky arrow missing. The next minutes, hours, I’m not sure, were hell. I was trying to prove to Paul that I not only shot this elk but I could have made a pretty deadly shot. “Blood. Blood?” he said, but there was none. Not a droplet not a smear. I was as upset as Paul was that we might have shot two elk in two days and might not recover either of them. We walked the trails, re walked the trails to no avail. And it didn’t help that I could barely remember anything of the shot. I honestly don’t remember looking through my peep or seeing my pins, thank you instinct! Both of our moods were worsening and I sent Paul on one last walk to where I had last seen the elk. He’d phoned me many times that night to see if I found blood, each of them I eagerly anticipated with hopes of good news but all of them ended the same, “Find blood? I don’t know Kels,” hangup. But at 7:40pm, I got the call I had been waiting for. “How much do you love me? “ he says and just like that I followed his voice into the bush and there he was in a stand of aspens surrounded by thick heavy bush. You could just see his antlers popping out of the tall grass and Paul standing there with a grin on his face. We got him quartered, de-boned and had Tyrell and John help us pack him out. Thanks guys beer’s on me!
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