An Outdoorsman’s Journal

Hello friends, What you are about to read is good stuff and it is about one of the craziest, most unique and challenging days of my 61 years walking this earth. Five days earlier I had left Wisconsin on a solo, public-land elk and mule deer hunt. My plan was to put much of my time and energy into scouting and building a base camp, as well as a spike camp, in the Gallatin National Forest in southern Montana. This column is about the first day of my hunt which was Montana’s opening day.

Saturday, Oct. 22 High 32, Low 24

I spent my night sleeping/listening to rain as it fell on my tent. I was at my spike camp which was close to a mile below where I planned on hunting and two miles above my base camp.

A major snowstorm was supposed to be followed by the rain. At 4 a.m., I said to heck with it, I am not crawling up that mountain in the dark, in the rain. At 4:45 my conscience got the best of me, and I dressed and began my trek. At that time the rain changed to snow. I might add that when I dressed, I pulled out a Sasquatch sweatshirt out of my pack that my girlfriend Michelle Chiaro, who passed away on June 15, used to wear.

I was over dressed for the trek/climb and got too hot. An hour before daylight I was sitting on the root ball of a deadfall with two umbrellas covering me. I would be watching a park/meadow where elk and deer like to feed that was surrounded by dark timber, spruce. I was near the top of a summit and on one side of the park it was a straight drop down the mountain.

Daylight is starting to happen and, just like that, I felt the presence of something. I looked behind me and maybe 50 yards into the timber were three elk. With my tag I could harvest either an antlerless elk or a bull with at least a 4-inch brow tine. One looked like a small bull, but I could not tell and they wandered off.

Less than one hour later a cow elk that seemed to be as big as a horse appeared out of nowhere from the other side of the mountain. She was followed by a calf and two other cows. All four were heading toward me and about 90 yards away.

I saw the bull’s antlers first as his body had not cleared the other side of the mountain yet and it was an amazing sight as they were large. When his body came over the mountain he looked like a horse with very large antlers. I had to give him about a minute to clear some trees and I put a round from my 300 in the vitals. The bull ran towards me, I fired three more times and just like that my elk hunt was complete. I had just harvested a mature 6x6.

When I walked up to him, I was honestly amazed at how physically enormous he was and later found out that a mature bull elk weighs between 700 and 1,100 pounds, this guy was all of 900.

The job of skinning and quartering was a no-nonsense, get it done task. I literally straddled the carcass and worked as fast as I could because I knew I would lose daylight. My plan was to use a plastic Otter Sled and haul about 125 pounds at a time. Had a drone been following, that would have made for a great video. On at least 12 occasions I either tripped over an unseen rock or deadfall or my sled that I was pulling started going so fast it would run me over.

Twice I went down the mountain at least 30 yards with no control other than my arms and the only thing that stopped me was either trees or rocks. The art of falling is known to few.

When I returned from my second trip, I could see in the very fresh snow that three dog/wolf/who knows type of animals had found the bull and even taken a couple of bites. The trips were so physical that I did not even carry my gun, but I did have bear spray.

I became as soaked as you could be with multiple layers of clothes on. Sweat from the inside and blood and melting snow from the outside. Every step I left a trail of blood and the pain from the falls was kicking my butt.

At exactly dark thirty I made it to my spike camp with my last load. Even though I had used a rope under a tarp, my tent was collapsed. I buried the meat in the snow and there was no way it was going down the mountain on this day to my base camp.

My reward was peanuts, granola bars and two cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon in a tent that was pelted with snow the entire night.

Nothing mattered, I got my bull! Sunset