Daves762
Well-Known Member
Been a long time since I've posted, and I have no excuse. 
So a medic buddy whom was a mentor to me when I joined the FD came out to MT to hunt. I've been trying to get him up here for years but could never make it work. After many salesman style promises and photo's of successful hunts of mine later, I finally got him pulling in the driveway with tags in hand. The very next day was his first elk hunt and we headed out to one of my best honey holes. He resides behind enemy lines in California so anything with antlers was a shooter to him. I managed to get him to pass on a small muley shortly after sunrise, and I'm glad I did. About a mile, and 1000ft elevation gain later we spotted a herd of elk several thousand feet above us. The herd had about 20 cows and one decent bull. They were feeding towards a spine covered in timber to bed for the day. I felt that if we were too aggressive and tried to run up there my sea level dwelling friend might literally die. We were, after all, at about 5000ft elevation and he was huffing and puffing just walking around. The herd was at about 8000ft and moving up. Add in the change in thermals when the sun hit the side of the mountain they were on, our scent might just have risen up into their beds and blew them out, never to be seen again. Of course being the fool I am, I wasn't humping around my long range rifle. It was his tags we were out to fill and he had never fired a round past 300yds. The only shot we would have, if they did return in the evening was going to be a long one. My trigonometry is pretty rusty and after attempting to range the location of the herd, and the spine where we would have a clear shot left me guessing about 900yds. It was however our only chance at a shot due to terrain and timber. It took two hours to get out, drive home and get my rifle. And three more to get into position for a shot. The last 1000ft of elevation climb was pretty brisk pace to say the least. Through deadfall of course. My buddy started to have that look in his eye, you know the "why am I following this nutjob up this mountain" look. Anyways, we crested the ridge, and walked out on the spine. BULL!!!! and herd of cows already out, on the same grassy area as before. I felt the pressure of what I was about to ask him to do in my throat. He had been training with another medic who had been active duty Marine on some marksmanship skills. I trusted his ability to make hits. But at near 800 yds it was a "poke" to say the least. So I put him on my rifle and start making calculations. 773 yds said the Gunworks rangefinder. We had plenty of time and he settled in as I dialed the Mark 4. I was on bino's watching the bull as I heard the safety click off. All I said was "One chance brother, I need the best shot of your life, It's all your gonna get". The bull was perfect broadside with his head down feeding. I could hear my buddies long deep breaths, as he tried to calm himself down. After the sprint up to 8000ft and seeing a bull in the scope he was pretty excited. The muzzle brake increased my tinnitus as the 175 gr TSMK headed out, and a second or two later the bulls rear legs rose up and kicked into his front armpits. His butt hit the ground and the tumble down the hill towards us began. My buddy racked the bolt and tried to find the sliding bull in his crosshairs. I was already laughing and cheering out loud as a reaction like that bull made, means he was punched pretty good. My buddy however was not buying it and was still in hunt mode. It wasn't until the bull slid to a shallow bench and was on his back, legs limp did I hear my buddy breath again. I snapped some photo's of him and we headed up to find his first bull. It was dark by the time we broke out of the timber and the search continued with flashlights. One green eye is all I could see, on the steep hill above us. Butchering, hanging quarters in a tree, and loading backstraps, head with cape on packs began. After that, the long heavy decent through deadfall choked hell began. The temps had dropped and the ground was covered in frost. It took quite a while to make our way to the truck, and we were both spent. It was now 0430 hrs and the shot was many hours ago. The next day we woke up to heavy snow, and legs to weak redo the day before. Two days later is was still snowing so bad I couldn't see my gate. Three days later it cleared and there was knee deep snow at the house. I called in a "mayday" for horses and a great friend stopped what he was doing, in the middle of elk season to pack out meat for a guy he never even met. The meat retrieval went perfect and other than small evidence of a pine martin nibbling at the bags the meat was untouched. After a couple days of butchering and wrapping we were back out for a mule deer. He pulled off a decent 10 pointer with a 200 yd shot, and he was tagged out after two hunts. I could not be happier if I had been the one doing the shooting. One of my best seasons hunting, and some of the best memories yet. A guy who had taught me so much when I was a probie fireman/EMT, was going home with two of the best kills of his hunting career. I was very proud, and wouldn't change a thing. The guy earned his stripes, and got it done.
So a medic buddy whom was a mentor to me when I joined the FD came out to MT to hunt. I've been trying to get him up here for years but could never make it work. After many salesman style promises and photo's of successful hunts of mine later, I finally got him pulling in the driveway with tags in hand. The very next day was his first elk hunt and we headed out to one of my best honey holes. He resides behind enemy lines in California so anything with antlers was a shooter to him. I managed to get him to pass on a small muley shortly after sunrise, and I'm glad I did. About a mile, and 1000ft elevation gain later we spotted a herd of elk several thousand feet above us. The herd had about 20 cows and one decent bull. They were feeding towards a spine covered in timber to bed for the day. I felt that if we were too aggressive and tried to run up there my sea level dwelling friend might literally die. We were, after all, at about 5000ft elevation and he was huffing and puffing just walking around. The herd was at about 8000ft and moving up. Add in the change in thermals when the sun hit the side of the mountain they were on, our scent might just have risen up into their beds and blew them out, never to be seen again. Of course being the fool I am, I wasn't humping around my long range rifle. It was his tags we were out to fill and he had never fired a round past 300yds. The only shot we would have, if they did return in the evening was going to be a long one. My trigonometry is pretty rusty and after attempting to range the location of the herd, and the spine where we would have a clear shot left me guessing about 900yds. It was however our only chance at a shot due to terrain and timber. It took two hours to get out, drive home and get my rifle. And three more to get into position for a shot. The last 1000ft of elevation climb was pretty brisk pace to say the least. Through deadfall of course. My buddy started to have that look in his eye, you know the "why am I following this nutjob up this mountain" look. Anyways, we crested the ridge, and walked out on the spine. BULL!!!! and herd of cows already out, on the same grassy area as before. I felt the pressure of what I was about to ask him to do in my throat. He had been training with another medic who had been active duty Marine on some marksmanship skills. I trusted his ability to make hits. But at near 800 yds it was a "poke" to say the least. So I put him on my rifle and start making calculations. 773 yds said the Gunworks rangefinder. We had plenty of time and he settled in as I dialed the Mark 4. I was on bino's watching the bull as I heard the safety click off. All I said was "One chance brother, I need the best shot of your life, It's all your gonna get". The bull was perfect broadside with his head down feeding. I could hear my buddies long deep breaths, as he tried to calm himself down. After the sprint up to 8000ft and seeing a bull in the scope he was pretty excited. The muzzle brake increased my tinnitus as the 175 gr TSMK headed out, and a second or two later the bulls rear legs rose up and kicked into his front armpits. His butt hit the ground and the tumble down the hill towards us began. My buddy racked the bolt and tried to find the sliding bull in his crosshairs. I was already laughing and cheering out loud as a reaction like that bull made, means he was punched pretty good. My buddy however was not buying it and was still in hunt mode. It wasn't until the bull slid to a shallow bench and was on his back, legs limp did I hear my buddy breath again. I snapped some photo's of him and we headed up to find his first bull. It was dark by the time we broke out of the timber and the search continued with flashlights. One green eye is all I could see, on the steep hill above us. Butchering, hanging quarters in a tree, and loading backstraps, head with cape on packs began. After that, the long heavy decent through deadfall choked hell began. The temps had dropped and the ground was covered in frost. It took quite a while to make our way to the truck, and we were both spent. It was now 0430 hrs and the shot was many hours ago. The next day we woke up to heavy snow, and legs to weak redo the day before. Two days later is was still snowing so bad I couldn't see my gate. Three days later it cleared and there was knee deep snow at the house. I called in a "mayday" for horses and a great friend stopped what he was doing, in the middle of elk season to pack out meat for a guy he never even met. The meat retrieval went perfect and other than small evidence of a pine martin nibbling at the bags the meat was untouched. After a couple days of butchering and wrapping we were back out for a mule deer. He pulled off a decent 10 pointer with a 200 yd shot, and he was tagged out after two hunts. I could not be happier if I had been the one doing the shooting. One of my best seasons hunting, and some of the best memories yet. A guy who had taught me so much when I was a probie fireman/EMT, was going home with two of the best kills of his hunting career. I was very proud, and wouldn't change a thing. The guy earned his stripes, and got it done.
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