Tom Akin
As if the hunting gods had read my previous story titled Another Almost Perfect Hunt, the last Friday of the bighorn season turned into perfection.
Thoroughly satisfied with my previous bighorn hunt the previous Sunday, I decided to close out the bighorn season by going to the same area. However, I would miss another day with my elk hunting buddy George. George helps outfit my friends and family when they visit Colorado to do some elk hunting. We call George’s basement the Sports Emporium. George had returned to the woods after some medical work this past Spring. After medical screening to prepare for a double knee replacement showed that one of George’s main arteries near his heart was 90% clogged, the docs had to clear the path and insert a stent. One month later George was back in the hospital for his double knee replacement hoping to rehab in time for elk season. I had promised to call in a bull elk for him this fall.
Back to bighorn hunting. I left work early and arrived at the trailhead at 1:30 PM. After a leisurely lunch, I started hunting at treeline around 3:30 PM. I donned my camouflaged head and face net and proceeded with my Wily Coyote tactics by crouching low and moving quick to the next stunted tree. I’d glass the new terrain, then proceed to next little wrinkle or tree shelter to glass and savor a quick breath.
A few hundred yards into the hunt, I noticed a weather system was approaching fast. The clouds were filling the valley below and moving up in elevation. With ½ mile before I would reach the perch to look into the bedding area that I found last hunt, I decided to hasten my hunt since I had to climb another 100 vertical. As streams of fog were rolling pass me, I approached another shelter from below – about 25 yards of scrub conifer. As I stepped around the stunted growth to crouch and glass, an amazing image shocked me at the other end of the growth. A bedded mature ram had just caught his head from falling to the ground during an afternoon siesta! The ram was quartering away with his head facing directly away from me. There was nothing but Rocky Mountain air between us and the jagged peaks in the backdrop. He jerked his head upright while I mentally stepped off the yardage and focused on a target spot.
I drew my bow back but was interrupted when I tried to find my knocking point. My head and face net wasn’t strapped and it grabbed the bowstring and dragged over my eye and lip where my bowstring kisser was to rest! I thought, take your time, he doesn’t even know you exist. Release the tension and adjust the head net. With the bedded ram still facing the other direction, I re-engaged the bowstring and drew the bow. As I was finding my mark, the ram’s ear’s twitched. Instead of looking over his left shoulder, the ram whirled around and stood directly facing me before I could get a bead on him. For what seemed like minutes, I held the draw until I started to shake uncontrollably. The ram did not move a muscle. With nothing but a frontal view, I slowly released the tension on the bow. As I took a couple breaths and started to draw the bow for a third time, the ram bolted down the mountain. I ran to the other end of the vegetation to see his rump disappear into the conifers trees.
As the ram disappeared, the thoughts going through my head were many as I stepped off the yardage. The image of the ram and Rocky Mountain backdrop repeatedly entered my mind. What a sight! And the ram’s head jerking back up like a college kid in back of the class! How could such a “gift” be denied without even an arrow release? Was a bedded quartering away shot a high percentage archery shot? How could I have not practiced with the head net and my new bow and bowstring kisser? I should have just pulled the head net off instead of adjusting it. Why didn’t the ram just turn his head, or stand up the way he was facing? 30 yards – the ram’s bed was 30 yards away from my shooting position. I had underestimated by 5 yards. I thought a good shot would have done the job. A little low would have probably been beneficial with a bedded animal (but I better check in case this shot is presented again).
Being an optimistic person, I thought it was interesting I only saw one ram bolt into the woods. On all other occasions, the rams were in a group. Maybe, the other rams would stay in the vicinity and use the route I was intending to hunt. With that thought, I proceeded to hunt and was greeted with the sound of an elk bugle. Maybe I should call it the evening and go elk hunting! Naah, that would mean another mountain to climb and I’m already on top of one. Regardless, the elk bugle definitely lifted my spirits. I thought about my friends George, Russ, and Mike.
The still hunt walk to the edge of the cliffed out bowl was not productive. I stood at my post for an hour and then decided to go to the edge of the bowl to look across the valley. There were 12 ewes feeding above treeline. They were joined by two more ewes, but no rams. The weather then deteriorated. Thick fog rolled in with a chilly temperature drop. I started to get cold and damp, so I decided to slowly hunt back along the same route with about 30 minutes of light remaining.
The fog was thick with visibility less than 50 yards, and sometimes less. I would take a few steps while looking and listening. It became eerily silent for a prolonged amount of time. Then a squirrel started barking angrily about 60 yards into the woods below me. This was a potentially good sign since the squirrel wasn’t barking at me. I took a couple of slow steps at a time with the fog and darkness getting thicker. The squirrel stopped barking and again it was eerily silent. Then I heard crunching, crunching like grass being chewed! I looked directly ahead of me and caught a glimpse of a snout and a large curl encompassing it through some branches. WOW! This was a very large ram, likely the one I had seen 5 days prior. He was above me, broadside and heading above treeline about 30 yards away.
After waiting a minute for the beauty to proceed higher to clear the tree branches with no progress, I decided I needed to move before it was too dark. I only needed 3 steps to get a little higher on the slope for a shot. The ground under me was intermittent moss and crunchy gravel. There wasn’t any large rocks close enough that I could step on. With each step the ram glanced in my direction then returned to feeding. I drew the bow back for a slightly quartering away shot. Before I found mark, the ram turned his rump in my direction. I slowly released the tension on the bow. As the full curl ram drifted a few steps farther away, it grew darker and foggier. I took a couple more steps up the slope to clear more branches. After a few more minutes, the ram finally presented me with a broadside shot that I estimated at 35 yards. My pin found the mark on the silhouette as he turned his head toward me. I released the arrow, but I sensed it was a little high of the mark. As I anticipated the thump, I was given silence. Then I heard my arrow crash into the rocks beyond the ram.
The ram bolted down into the woods. I waited briefly, and guessed that the arrow had missed the animal. With darkness upon me, I had to quickly discern if the animal was hit since I didn’t see my arrow flight. I stepped to the ram’s position and found his hoof prints. It was 25 yards. I took a GPS reading and set my pack down. I searched around this location, but did not find hair or blood. I then went back to my shooting position and located a tree in the background to track my arrow flight. My first sweep turned up an 8-inch piece of my arrow with the fletching. No hair, no blood. I let out a big sigh of relief. Just to be sure, I went backed to ram’s location and swept the area around his escape route. No hair and no blood.
The 2-mile trudge back to the truck was long and slippery given the low visibility in steep, rocky conditions. The bighorn season ended on a bittersweet note, but to me it was a huge relief that I didn’t injure that magnificent animal with my miscalculation. Cold, wet and tired, I decided to return home to get a few hours sleep to prepare for tomorrow’s elk hunt.
After an uneventful morning elk hunt, I stopped at my friend’s camp and was greeted by Mike. We exchanged hellos, and Mike asked if I was hungry for some elk’s heart. Fresh elk, I asked. He said George had arrowed a 5×4 the previous morning and was enroute to the butcher and taxidermist!
Later that afternoon, I stopped by camp again and had dinner with George, Russ, Mike, and their wives. On the morning of his hunt, George had rolled out of bed late. Since he was already late, he decided to have a big breakfast. By the time George reached his favorite stump on the ridge, it was 7 AM. He made a few cow calls and then the bull arrived at 9 AM. After drawing the bow, George had to wait a while until the bull presented him a broadside shot. With some slight shakes, George released the arrow and it found the mark. George returned to camp and called Russ to help with the search since George is colored blind red. With 2 freshly implanted synthetic knees, a heart stent, and his friend Russ, George went back to the ridge. They found the bull dead 35 yards away from where he was hit. This was George’s first bow kill in 35 years of archery hunting!
The Perfect Bowhunt!
Adirondack Camp Journal 