By Bob Whitling, Venago County
Well guys, I’ll do my best to tell you about Elk Camp and our trip out west.  We left early on September 5th.   After a long ride in my son’s truck, we finally arrived on Friday September 7th.  Shortly after arrival, we set up camp in a new area on public land.  On the first day of our hunt, my son Brad and I took a hike in one direction while our friend Scott went the other to cover more territory and maximize our opportunity of finding elk.  At the end of the day, we met back at camp.  During dinner we relayed to each other how unimpressive the sign was in our new area.  At this point we were contemplating on moving camp to an old standby just a few miles down the road. However, we decided to give the new hunting area one more day.

Some Scenery

Camp Cook

The next morning, we again headed out and decided to meet back at camp around noon for lunch.  Scott showed up at camp excited saying he found the elk.  He was telling us he called in a 5X6 to about twenty feet from him!  This was both good and bad news because Scott was not successful at drawing a bull tag this year and only had a cow tag.  After talking over lunch about Scott’s hunt, we decided we would move in on the hot area the next morning.  The following morning Brad and I went in high as Scott went in on the low side of the area.  As we arrived, we heard a bull and set up on him.  We made a few calls, but he didn’t show much interest.  A short time later, we heard a shot and knew Scott had a cow on the ground and a long pack ahead of us.  After packing the cow out, we spent another day in the area.  We decided to move camp to our old standby as the shot slowed things down in the area we were hunting.

Now were at the other camp which we’ve hunted before.  That evening after setting up camp, Brad and I took a hike up the mountain.  Scott still had a bear tag and decided he would cover some ground looking for a bear.  It was getting late and we smelled elk, so we checked the wind, and sat tight for about a half hour, calling from time to time.  We didn’t hear anything, so we decided to go back around the mountain toward camp.  As we worked our way along the side of the mountain, I saw Brad stop quickly, get down, and pull his muzzleloader up.  I looked ahead and saw a mule deer buck looking back at us.  Brad had the shot off quickly, and smoke filled the air.  As we got closer to where the buck was standing, we started seeing a good blood trail.  About thirty yards down the trail, we found Brad’s first mule deer.  A great time was had between father, son, and the Rocky Mountains (God’s Country).  At this time, it was getting late, so we decided to open the buck up to cool and head back to camp.  After telling Scott about our hunt, he said while bear hunting, he heard elk in another area that evening.  The next morning, we packed out Brads mule deer, and in the afternoon, went out on a mission for elk.

Father and Son Share the Moment

The next part of the hunt was almost unbelievable for some, but created memories that will stay with me forever.  That afternoon started off bad for me as I fell into a creek, trying to cross it by jumping rocks (trying to be young).  After hitting my leg on a rock and banging my gun from the fall, I regrouped and we headed off after the elk.  We topped a flat spot low on the mountain by an old beaver dam.  There we would wait and listen until a couple hours before dark.  It started getting late and we hadn’t seen or heard anything, so Scott made a call with his bugle tube.  Nothing answered so we decided to make a loop and do some calling.  After moving about 100 yards a bull answered back to our calls and the hunt was on!  Scott called as Brad and I moved ahead toward the answering bull.  We got where we needed to be, and as we were getting set up, I looked at Brad.  He had his gun up and cocked!  I no sooner glanced in the direction he was aiming, and he had shot the biggest bull I have ever seen in the wild.  We jumped up and started looking for blood, hair or any sign of a hit.  We couldn’t find any sign where the elk stood which lead Brad to say “Dad, I know I hit him… I was right on him.”  Scott showed up shortly after on top of the world.

We just had a classic rut hunt and Scott reeled that bull right into us.  After waiting a few minutes and listening for a crash, we started on a trail we figured the bull took.  About 10 yards down the trail, we found first blood!  Taking our time, we kept on tracking the badly injured bull (with the biggest smiles on our faces a guy could ever see).   The bull started up a grade then quickly angled back down the hill.  “Look there” Scott said, “He’s hurt bad”… There was blood sprayed high on the side of a tree.  At that moment, we all caught the smell of elk and knew he was close.  We climbed over a mound directly in front of us, and there he lay.  My heart was racing and all I could think was “Brad what a bull”!  I know Scott was thinking the same and said that bull must go at least 800 pounds.  After many pictures and back slaps, again it was getting late and we agreed to open the bull up to cool and come back early the next morning to pack him out.

As we headed back to camp, we started marking the trail with ribbons part way down the mountain.  Even though we use the GPS heavily out west and marked the coordinates, we like to have a backup.  About 300 yards away from the kill, Scott stopped dead in his tracks and said “bull”!  I looked ahead and saw a bull running along the side of a hill.  We started calling and I could see him out there 100 yards.  Brad and Scott continued calling as I tried to close some ground on him.  I was about 40 yards ahead of Brad and Scott and another bull bugled about 150 yards out.  I decided to sit tight to a tree right where I was, with my gun up and ready, looking in the direction of the last bugle.  Soon here he came, stopping and looking from time to time, but continued to come right to me.  Talk about thrilling; I felt like my heart was beating out of my chest.  I needed him to give me a broadside shot, and as it turned out, he stopped about fifteen yards out and turned.  This was the opportunity I needed and the shot was true.  He ran about 30 yards and stopped again badly hurt.  I managed to get a 2nd shot into him and he just stood there.  In seconds he did the wobble and fell right where he stood.  I just dropped to my knees as there were no words to describe my feelings at that moment.  Our final elk tag was filled.

Ok, now we have two elk on the ground, and from here on out, it was all work.  In short, the whole next day was spent packing out our elk.  Elk camp is the best!  Make no mistake, hunting and harvesting animals is our goal every time we head out west, but the true treasure lies in spending quality time outdoors with friends and family.  I would like to take this opportunity to thank my friends Scott and Brad (my son and best friend) for making this an incredible experience and encourage everyone to give elk hunting a try.  Thank you for letting me share this Elk Camp with you.

Elkaholic

Thought you might enjoy the photo of the camp toliet!