We’re up at the family cabin tonight. I have a couple of favorite roads that I like to drive in the evenings.
Here’s why:
These bad boys like to come out in the final hours of the evening. This herd bull has brought his girls down by the river for an evening meal. I saw 3 satellite bulls, but was unable to get any good images of them. One was a cute little spike, still in velvet. My guess is the herd bull has pushed him out, and he’s still a bit confused about why he can’t stay with momma.
When I’m hunting elk, I usually smell them before I see them…that tells me the wind is right. All of these shots were taken with a cellphone…longest elk was 45 yrds, closest elk was around 8 yrds. Brings back so many hunting memories. The big herd cow started at 25 yrds…then worked her way to my left, with the wind….
90% of the time…this is what I’ll see, if I approach from the cow side of the herd, that periscope head popping up out of the undergrowth…those girls just see everything.
If this happens, you need to hunker down low and start using cow/calf talk, try to keep her from running off with the herd. If she doesn’t run, you can start to give a few real wimpy bull calls, coupled with some cow talk; chances are good you’ll be able to convince the herd bull that a young satellite bull has gotten into his harem. That’ll get him to come investigate. If the cow that saw you doesn’t take the herd right away, the clock starts ticking, cuz she’s going to work her way around you, and try to wind you…so you need to get that bull to investigate the wimpy bull before she cautiously works her way around you.
Here’s the big cow, moving around to try and wind me. She can tell where I’m at, but at this point she doesn’t know what I am or if I’m a threat. She can hear me talking at her, but she’s still a bit unsure…once she gets my scent though, they’ll be gone. There were 8 or so cows and calves in this herd. It’s early rut right now.
Now she’s got the attention of the other cows, and their eyes are on me now. In the background are a couple calves, busily feeding. If it has leaves, elk eat it.
Here’s another look at the herd bull. I think he’s sensed my presence, and he’s talking to his girls. He’s across on the far side of the herd from me, about 45 yrds away. He’s real nice, not the biggest that I’ve seen, but I’d still be proud of this animal…deffinately in the top 10-15 elk that I’ve encountered.
One year, I hunted close to home. Knocked down my elk one evening after work, he was a very good sized satellite bull. My wife could not believe the size of that bull. She wanted to see where I got it, so I drove her up the next day and showed her where it all happened…walked her through the entire hunt, she was so supportive.
On the way home she asked if I could try to call in another elk for her to see.
It was getting on toward later evening, I drove down the road a bit to a meadow, told her to stay by the truck, and got out and started calling. 1/2 hr later, I got an answer, just as my wife was starting to get board. After many replies, 40 minutes later, the lead cow came out into the meadow, quickly followed by the rest of the herd.
Then the herd bull appeared. He was massive, so much bigger than the bull I had tagged the night before.
I did lot’s of cow calling…and mixed in a very high pitched winey bull call…he came right towards me, then he held up at 50 yrds.
There was a pile of rock in the meadow, about 30 yrds away from the bull, on my side of the meadow. I crawled down the roadside for about 20 yrds and put a pile of rock between me and him, then crawled right out to him. As I crawled, I’d stop and cow talk/calf talk…once I was at the pile of rock, I started my wimpy bull bugling…he came right at me. Stopped at the pile of rocks and started raking his huge rack through the grass…urinating all over. He was very rank.
He knew I sounded like a young stupid bull, but I didn’t look like any bull he had ever seen. He stayed on one side of the rock pile, between me and his cows. I stayed on my side, and every time I bugled my wimpy bull call, he’d hunch up his back…give a big deep throaty bugle, and then spray the ground, and rake his antlers.
Since that night, my wife has never doubted my hunting stories…and I’ve had some whoppers.
No elk for me .... ever. Polecat
