My First Elk Bull with a Bow: Making the Grade

There is no grading on a curve. No study guide. And certainly no cheating. Elk hunting is pass / fail. That's it. Period.

2015 marks my 8th year hunting for elk with my bow. When I first started this sport, I was lucky to make it out 5 or 6 days each season. While that doesn't give a fella very good odds, we were still seeing elk each time we went; we just weren't ever able to put one on the ground.

As the predators became more prevalent on the east slope of the Rocky Mountain Front, the elk started to spread out and finding them became increasingly more difficult. Four years ago we decided to try something new. A group of us threw our luck to Montana FWP in hopes of drawing a permit to hunt the CM Russell National Wildlife Refuge on the south side of the Missouri River. We threw the proverbial dart at a map and gave it a go.

We've been hunting the same area for four seasons now, and it isn't for lack of elk numbers, or close-call opportunities, that we haven't come back with a truck full of elk.

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Elk Hunting in the Missouri Breaks: Fail

My first look at the Breaks area made me feel intimidated to say the least. The 'little' piece of the CMR that we were planning to hunt stretches about 1.5 miles east/west and 4 miles north/south. The bottoms have large areas of cottonwoods and anything not under that canopy is thick with willows. The coulees and draws that run between the river and the fields are filled with juniper, sage, and pine trees. And there are elk everywhere!

Our first morning, two of us decided to sit on water holes while the other two did some scouting and glassing of the river bottom. When we were picked up a few hours later, we were met with a crazy story of an elk encounter and began to put together a game plan. The elk were moving out of the cottonwoods and up into the coulees each morning, and our plan was to set up an ambush. We would all be set up on a hill side stretched out over a quarter mile.

We brushed in some makeshift blinds about 35 yards uphill of the path that they were travelling. For three days we went in to our blinds well before shooting light. For three days we never saw an elk pass by us, they were moving through ahead of us each time. In the afternoons and evenings we did some exploring of the coulees and watched elk every day. Unfortunately, we only had one elk in bow range the rest of the week and she didn't offer a presentation for an ethical shot.

At the end of the week we packed up and headed back home. But we had some ideas for the next year!

Grade: FAIL, but optimistic!

Change of Tactics During the Hunt: Pass (ish)

After eleven months of reminiscing, game planning, and preparing we had a completely different idea of what might work.  We'd been hunting the mountains for elk for so long, that we assumed that was how we should hunt the breaks.  We took a page from the white tail hunters' book and decided we would use tree stands to be successful.  We even flipped our hunting times 180 degrees.

We would glass and scout in the mornings, and concentrate our hunting to the evenings.  This time, four of us spread out across the better part of a mile right in the bottoms along willow edges.

Need to practice? Here's some targets.

Each night and next morning, we would go over what happened and put a new plan together for that night.  2 of us moved stands around, while the other 2 decided to stay in the same place.  For 3 days our odds seemed to be getting better, but we still hadn't had an opportunity to shoot.  I should interject here - I did have an opportunity at a cow and calf the first night, but never even had my bow ready to shoot when they came through.

On Friday night, after moving his stand for the 3rd time, one of the guys finally connected on a spike bull.  We were finally successful, and got to come home with an elk in the truck!

Grade: PASS, but we should have had at least one, probably 2 more elk in the truck.

Rainy Elk Hunting Season in 2014; Grade? Fail

2014 was a year that will be talked about for many to come.  August brought torrential rains to central Montana, dumping nearly 13 inches of rain instead of the 1.5-2 inch average.  This rain flooded the river bottoms and left standing water in nearly every depression, attributing to one of the worst mosquito hatches seen in that area.  Roads and bridges had been wiped out.

The road into the breaks opened just days before the archery season.  The weather called for cool days, and only a minimal chance of rain.  On September 8th, the normally dry Bears Paw Mountains were covered with snow.  We set camp on Monday morning, and went in to set stands that afternoon.  The bottoms were still wet and moving through the clay sludge was nearly impossible.

The two of us that went in on the east end decided we'd be better off hitting the coulees where we could actually move around.  We figured if were having a hard time moving down there, the elk would too and would have moved out as well.  We each saw a few elk, and I got within 80 yards of a small rag horn but not close enough for a shot.  That night it started raining.  A constant drizzle that lasted well into Tuesday night.

The clay in central Montana is commonly referred to as gumbo when it gets wet.  It is notorious for being incredibly slick, and sticks to everything it touches.  We could barely move around outside the camper to cook, let alone go anywhere to hunt.  There we sat until Friday afternoon.  I moved to the west end of the bottom, but didn't see anything more than a small beaver that had moved into a ditch with the high water the month before.

Two of the guys in our group ventured into the cottonwoods and saw a couple elk, but nothing in bow range.  We packed up Sunday morning and headed back empty handed.

Grade: FAIL, we came home cussing mother nature and vowed that we'd be back and better prepared next year.

Elk Bow Hunt 2015, Perseverance and Persistence

September 5th came and went this year.  Opening day of the 2015 Montana general archery opener was a lazy day of packing and picking up last minute items for our breaks trip.  By the time season came around there were only going to be two of hunting instead of four.  I was going to be headed out by myself and Ray would be there a couple days later.

My hopes were high that this was going to be the year I finally got the monkey off my back and shoot an elk with my bow.  I convinced my friend Jerrin of this too, and he came along with his video cameras.  If nothing else, we would document that even in failure we could have a good time.

I got in to our hunting camp spot shortly after noon and started setting up.  As is usual in central Montana, the wind blew in out of the Southwest and made setting up a tent and awning a lot more work than it should have been.  After spending almost 2 hours longer than intended getting camp together, I decided to sit and glass the first night instead of trying to bomb down into the bottom and set up for a short night.

As evening set in, the wind calmed, and elk began to move.  I grabbed my chair, binoculars, spotting scope, and a few frosty barley pops and started glassing the bottom I'd be hunting the next several days.

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There weren't as many elk moving around as we'd seen in past years, but there was enough going on to keep me occupied until dark.  I'd spotted several bulls, including 2 nice 6-points, and over 40 cows.  I had a few more drinks and a sandwich for dinner, then turned in for the night.  Tomorrow will be a good day!

Elk Bugling & Breaking the No-Elk-With-A-Bow Streak

I woke up to the sound of elk bugling the next morning.  Breakfast of granola bars and an energy drink was consumed while watching micro herds of elk wander in and out of the willows.  By 8:30 the show was over and all of the elk had made it back into the shelter of the cottonwoods.  I began laying out my gear and arranged my pack and tree stand for the trip into the bottom that afternoon.  I even got about an hour of shooting practice in before Jerrin showed up.

There are few things I despise while hunting more than the hill that's between our camp and river bottom where we hunt.  It is only 600 feet of elevation change, but most of that is on loose dirt hill side.  Add to that a heavy pack, and knees that aren't in the best condition, and it becomes a painful task even in the best conditions.

Jerrin and I hit the bottom around 2:30 in the afternoon and set out to find a waypoint a friend had given me from the year before.  Being my first trip into the willows on the east end, we took our time and tried to find a route that wouldn't create a lot of commotion and spook any elk that might be bedded in the area.  Easy route... no noise... willows... that didn't work out well for us all!  We know that we kicked up at least 4 elk, and who knows how many more that didn't know about, as we moved with all the stealth of a herd of elephants.

When we finally got under the canopy of the cottonwoods, the willows gave way to grass and moving towards to area we wanted to hunt was as simple as finding your car at the far end of a crowded Wal-Mart parking lot.

Adrenaline & a Heart Beat: Ranging a Bull at 25 yards...

After finding our waypoint, we hung our stands in a tree just off the main game trail in the clearing.  I had clear shooting lanes for the better part of 80 yards, and any elk that skirted the willows would be inside 20 yards.  I was already feeling confident that chances of success were climbing by the minute.  We had been in the stand about an hour and half when the elk began to move.  We could hear the willows being pushed aside, and several cows and calves were talking.  There were a few bugles, but nothing that sounded close enough to shoot with a bow.

Then we heard it... the sound of crunching leaves.  Not in the willows, but in the open.  It took several minutes before they came down the trail we were set up on, but soon there were four elk passing our stand; a pair each of cows and calves.  They stopped on the trail to my right at 14 yards.

This was it, I was finally going to punch my tag on an elk in the breaks with my bow!  I watched in disbelief as they stopped to feed right under our feet.  I still don't understand how they couldn't hear the pounding of my heartbeat, it felt like my head was inside a drum.  The cows all had their heads down and I was about to draw when I heard a whisper, "Wait wait wait!"

I had been ignoring all of the sounds in the willows, but Jerrin hadn't.  I tried to find the direction of the closest noise, and here came antler tips through the willows right towards the cows.  A rag horn was making his way to the clearing.  I ranged what I thought was the most likely spot for him to step clear. 25 yards!

Everything was coming together!  The bull spent several minutes just out of sight, but I would catch glimpses of his antlers and swaying willows when he turned his head.  After several minutes, the cows started making their way down the willow edge, and the bull gradually followed them but never stepped clear of the safety of the willows.

... And Failing to Draw my Bow

As I watched another opportunity slowly walk away, I heard a voice over my shoulder.  "Why didn't you shoot?  He was definitely in range!"  Because of the extra height that Jerrin had in the tree above me, he had several clear openings of the bull, where I wasn't able to see anything lower than his nose.

"I really hope I don't regret this.  I got greedy when I saw that bull.  I've been saying for years that I'm going to shoot the first legal elk in range, and this year's calf is in trouble if it stands just a little too close."

For the third year in a row, I had elk inside of bow range on my first day hunting and never drew back.  This monkey was putting on weight and feeling more like a gorilla.  Nightfall came, and we packed up our gear and headed back up the hill to camp.

We spent the evening swapping tales with Ray, and watching the videos he had taken of several bulls through his spotting scope.  I ate a small dinner, my stomach was so tied in knots all I could put down was an apple and a Gatorade.  Our plan for the morning was to do some glassing of the bottom where we hunted, and then to go sit and glass the big coulee to the south and see if there was anything moving higher up off the bottom.

The view we woke up to the next morning was spectacular.  Fog was rolling through the river bottom, blanketing the valley.  We found Ray stalking a small herd, and watched through the spotting scope as their chess game played out.  It was exciting and I hoped we'd be able to watch if he was able to loose an arrow on one of the elk.  As they moved north, both Ray and the elk disappeared into the fog and willows.

Our hike into the coulees to the south was disheartening, the only game we saw was a dink 3-point mule deer in his bed.  When Ray got back to camp, he had more videos to share and a rag horn-by-one caught our attention.  We decided that rather than head back into the river bottom, we'd venture into the coulees to the east instead.

Stalking Elk through the Missouri River Breaks the Next Morning

We left camp walking the same ridge-line that leads to the river, but instead of taking our normal left turn, we dumped off to the right out on a finger ridge.  We hadn't gone more than a couple hundred yards off the trail when Jerrin spotted elk.  Walking down a sloughed off hillside was a lone cow.  We watched as she made her way down a draw and disappear into a small patch of aspen.  It was only 2:30 in the afternoon and we figured she must have bedded and we had plenty of time to make a move on her.

1200 yards, give or take, is the distance we had to close.  We made our way into the bottom and began our stalk.  Thankfully, there hadn't been a lot of rain because we had to cross what normally would have been a spring creek 7 or 8 times before we reached the far side.  Before we came around the last corner and started making our way up the draw, I took a few minutes to change into my camo and gather myself for what was coming.

There had been a fire through the area several years before, and the ground was littered with the charcoal remains of pine and juniper.  The hillside was loose dirt as it had started to slough.  Now that we were closer, we could see that the cow had made her way on to a shelf in the middle of the draw that was about 80 yards deep and 50 yards across.

I figured that as long as there was a clean shot, she would be well within range when we got up there.  We were still 50 yards from the shelf on a side hill when a cow and calf jumped up from the aspens right below me.  They ran out to a little clearing and stood watching us at 40 yards.  I nocked an arrow and got my range, now the cow just had to take her eyes off of us for a few seconds too long so I could come to full draw.

Here is the latest selection of camo.

She spent almost 4 minutes going back and forth watching us and watching her calf.  When she'd finally had enough, she turned on her heel and took off without ever presenting a shot.  The emotional roller coaster had hit it's peak and was now on the down side.  I turned back to say something to Jerrin and spike bull was standing right under him at the base of the hill.  We had to have walked within 30 feet away from him as we came up the hill.  I pointed him out to Jerrin, and immediately drew my bow.

Spike Bull in Range and Finally a Full Draw

The cow had been standing at 40 yards, and he was well inside half that distance.  The spike must have been asleep, and the noise the cow made when she took off woke him.  He was looking around for the noise, but there wasn't anything to see; the cow had already taken off.  Because of the burned out trees I had a clear view of him, but didn't have a clear shot.

He was walking from my left to right.  I found a gap in the trees a few feet wide, settled my pins in the gap, and thought to myself, "If it's going to happen, it's going to happen right here."  I watched as his head, then his shoulders, came into the gap.  I cow chirped at him and he froze.  I couldn't believe it, it was just like the hunting videos, he stopped in his tracks at the sound.  I don't know what pins I had on his shoulder.

I certainly don't remember pulling the trigger on my release.  But as soon as he stopped the arrow left my bow.  I heard the 'thwack' when the arrow hit, but I wasn't sure of my placement.

The spike took a few quick steps and was the top of the little knoll where the cow had been standing just a minute before.  He turned and I could see blood coming from behind his off-side shoulder where the arrow had exited.  It was a good shot!  A little higher than I would have liked, but a good shot none the less.  He stood for less than a minute, his legs wobbled, he fell and expired.

I had my first elk with a bow fall in plain sight.  And we had it all on video!  I couldn't believe that all of the time, effort, and hard work that I'd been putting in over the years had all come together.  It had happened so fast that there wasn't really a chance to think.  It was all just a reaction.

Most of our trips, hunting or otherwise, are best described as a goat rope.  We are good shooters, confident enough to take some risks that others may not.  But then we all get together and the universe likes to play dirty tricks on us.

From filling the generator with water--that's a true story (who uses a gas can for a water jug, really?) to getting the 5th-wheel into and out of some pretty sketchy situations, and showing up to hunt and forgetting your camo and scent spray in the bow case.

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We've made some mistakes, but we always have a lot of fun! September 10, 2015.  PASS.  That's it.  Period!