Toward the end of September, I went back to Oregon for about four more days of archery elk hunting. The timing of this trip would put me very close to the peak of the rut, with elk behaving much differently than during my previous trip. My experiences, while amazing, left such a bitter taste in my mouth that I didn't feel like writing about it until now.
I didn't see any elk the first evening. The next morning, I ran into a few other hunters who I had encountered the year before. One of them told me of a small herd with a big bull that had just entered some trees in the bottom of steep canyon. Since he couldn't get the bull to come in to his calls, he told me I was welcome to go try to find them.
I promptly descended into the canyon, walking as quietly as I could in the loose, noisy shale. I got into the trees near where I thought the elk might be and decided to just sit down and listen for a while. I thought I heard a small stick break about 50 yards sidehill to my right. Then I didn't hear anything else for a while and chocked the sound up to a squirrel or random forest noise. Ten or 15 minutes later, the wind shifted and the herd I was after thundered away from the very spot I'd heard the sound. They crossed an open area, where I managed to get this shot of the herd bull.
 |
| A very respectable bull for the area |
I followed the herd for about a mile before completely losing their trail and giving up. With this small herd being the only elk I'd seen, in an area where I knew there were at least a couple hundred more, I decided to move on and check some other areas. The next morning I loaded my backpack and prepared to be out for the last three days of the season. After hiking about 2 miles, I heard a faint, mid-day bugle way down below me. I immediately dropped my pack and prepared to drop down and chase the bugle, which I soon heard a few more times.
I concealed myself in sparse fir and juniper trees as I slowly made my way down the hill. The bugle was farther away than I thought, but I eventually spotted the head of a spike bull meandering down a draw. I soon saw more elk, and then laid eyes on the one doing the bugling, about 150 yards away. I continued to stalk closer by moving only one or two steps at a time, using the available trees, and taking advantage of the time when the bull was raking a defenseless juniper. I got within about 60 yards but didn't have a shot, then the bull wandered into a draw and out of sight. I continued to play this cat-and-mouse game with the herd for much of the rest of the day.
I was eventually in position to make a 60-yard shot on a broadside cow elk that had it's head down feeding and it's vitals exposed. As I drew my bow, I heard a bark off to my left and all the elk started to stampede. I had failed to notice a group of sentinel cows about 100 yards away. Busted.
 |
| Elk Everywhere |
I continued to pursue these elk for the next three days, being "in" the herd for much of that time. Close encounters were numerous. There seemed to be several herds in the canyon, totaling close to 100 elk. I was at full draw multiple times on cows, spikes, and bulls. On the last day, I was sitting near the bottom of the canyon with about 40 elk out in the open to my left. With that many elk, I expected to see a big herd bull and was surprised that the biggest bulls in the herd were smaller 5 and 6 point bulls. Meanwhile, to my right I kept hearing what sounded like a deeper, more mature bugle concealed in the trees. I predicted that the bull in the trees would eventually join the herd and positioned myself so that the bull would pass near me when he decided to do so.
Several hours later, I herd a sound and immediately saw a cow in the direction of where the bugles were coming from. A few seconds later, a bull popped out following the cow. When I first saw them, they were about 50 yards away. My back was up against a tree, but there was nothing between me and them so I did not have an opportunity to draw. They were heading toward me, crossing to join the main herd exactly as I had hoped. I sat motionless, afraid to even blink, as they slowly ambled toward me. They passed about 8 yards from me, just downhill, with afternoon uphill thermals in full swing. They had no idea I was there. My plan was to let them move away, and when they were both facing directly away from me, I would draw.
This continued to go exactly as planned. When the bull was about 20 yards away, I drew undetected. I then quickly, far too quickly in hindsight, placed my pin over the bull's vitals and released. I rushed the shot so bad that I missed where I was aiming by about 14 inches - high. This was bad enough to hit the bull above it's vitals, near it's spine. Upon my release the bull and cow he was with trotted out to about 90 yards before resuming their slow amble, unsure of what just happened. The bull soon joined the herd. With no cover and 80 elk eyes in the vicinity to pick me off, there was nothing I could do to get a follow up shot. I continued to watch the bull for two hours as he mixed with the herd, bugled, and rutted - showing no indication of being injured.
 |
| Photo of the bull I shot after he joined the herd |
I knew exactly how much work went into getting that shot opportunity, and to screw up the shot at such close range was heartbreaking - and still is. Yet at the same time the situation and opportunity over the previous few days were priceless and intensely memorable. This is the biggest bull I've ever been in bow range of. His presence was majestic from 150 yards, and even more so from 8. I've been replaying this chain of events in my mind every day since, trying to learn everything I can so that I do not repeat my mistake. I've ultimately concluded that this mistake was 100% mental. While I'm good at shooting at my target, deer, and cow elk, I tend to lose my shit when I'm within bow range of a bull. So the question becomes, how do I control my emotions to the point that I can shoot normally in similar situations?
1) Shoot More: Simply shooting enough to be a good target shooter is insufficient. I need to strengthen my muscle memory and shot routine to the point that I'm physically incapable of deviating to the point of disaster.
2) Varied Target Shooting: Turns out animals don't have neon targets over their vitals, whereas my target has very clear aiming points. To help bridge this gap, I asked for and received a 3-D deer target for Christmas. Practicing picking a spot on an otherwise brown background will inevitably help the next time I have an elk in my sights.
3) Visualize: Bordering on meditation, I will visualize myself in various close-encounter situations making good shots. The next time I create this type of opportunity for myself, the actual shot should feel like something I do all the time.
In summary, it feels terrible to come home empty handed when I could have had 300 pounds of high-quality elk meat. It feels even worse to have injured an animal when I strive for and take pride in quick, clean kills. Barring infection, I'm pretty sure this bull has already healed from the wound. I plan to return to the area next season and, although unlikely, hope to find the same bull again. With my horrendous shooting aside, hunting the last three days of the elk season in Oregon was once again an incredible experience!
