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elkkill06's picture
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Grand Slam Challenge Winner!
Location: Fruita Colorado
Joined: 02/02/2009
Posts: 1946
Lets see your first !

Here is a different kind of first for me. cool

This if I can remember correctly is one of the first bull kills my brother and I were on with my father. I was 7 and my brother was 6. I remember being about 4 when I seen my father take a cow elk for the first time, but I have no pictures of that one. We were with my dad and the sun was just cresting the hill when three elk crossed the old two track road (one of just a few that are still open where we hunt), a spike bull and two cows, while we were on our way to one of the big points we like to sit on and watch for elk. My father quickly jumped out of the Bronco and got a rest and fired three times and the bull went down. My father has always had the luck of the Gods on his side when it comes to hunting. Even a quick hunt like that can be quite memorable. Yes

My brother is on the left and I am on the right of my father.


Here my father and cousin are loading the bull.

SoCoKHntr's picture
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Location: Pueblo Colorado
Joined: 12/18/2006
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Lets see your first !

Alright, this was last years Bull and it was the 'first' Bull I called in (with guidance and help). I had shot my buck (which was an exciting story in itself) last year on a Tuesday evening about five pm. After gutting him and getting him spread out to cool for the evening we made plans to hike back the following morning early, do a still hunt till around 9:00 am, and then quarter and pack the buck out.

The morning before I shot my buck we were still hunting this area and we saw five cows pass in the aspens below us and then a Bull follow them about ten minutes later. The bull was unaware of us, but passed by too quickly in the aspens for me to get a shot and I lost him.

Well, we get up there the following morning with me and my dad covering one side of a ridge and my uncle about a hundred or so yards away on the other side. We sit it out for a few hours and shortly before nine we hear my uncle hit his bugle a few times. I thought I heard a faint distant bugle response but wasn't sure. Well, nine rolls around and we huddle back up to get that buck ready and my uncle confirms he got a couple of responses from way off in the distance. As were heading back down to camp we formulate a plan and my uncle tells me "it's gotta be late we'll head back up here around five and get back up in the direction we heard those bugles and try and get him to respond".

Right around five pm finds us back up in the general area and we hit some bugles and sure enough a minute late we faintly hear a response way way off in the distance. I would guesstimate he was around two miles off. We slowly would bugle at him let him respond and close the distance a few hundred yards every so often. We had covered about a mile and found what we thought was a good spot with visibility, but cover for us on some approaching lanes he might come in on. Well, we hunker down there and again hit some bugles and cow chirps. He responds again and this time it sounds like he's about six to eight hundreds yards off. This begins a bout of us cow chirping and bugling and him getting progressively louder and more agitated. I had never experienced this before, he's screaming at us and were screaming back at himi. Back and forth, back and forth this went on for about twenty minutes or so.

Finally he gets quite after it sounded like he was slowly getting closer, slowly. We just hit some cow chirps and nothing quite. Well, below us we had a shooting lane into some open pasture and above us as well. But, to the right of us on the slight incline we are on there is an almost solid wall of vegetation and trees. A mixture of aspen, pines, and brush..... thick!

Luckily the wind was completely in our favor as blowing from the Bulls direction towards us. After about ten minutes of silence I quietly, half whispering half using hand signals, communicate to my uncle we should try and get closer and he agrees and here's where the adrenaline hits. We had been sitting positioned to shoot and when we got up to move again, we kicked some rocks ups and caused a little bit of movement noise. Well when this occurred I heard the loudest bugle of my life as if it came from a marshall amplifier blasting into my ears. We look at each with our eyes bugging out like saucers and immediately crouch and I get my rifle at the ready.

That damn Bull had quit bugling and snuck in on us. He's what sounds like five yards away right in the middle of that thick wall of brush and trees and screaming bloody murder. I do what seemed to come instinctively and grab my bugle and scream back at him. This goes on for about five minutes, man and elk screaming at each other at the top of their lungs.

And then.............silence. He goes quite again and my uncle who's behind me whispers be ready he could come out right on top of you. I'm half crouching knees and ankles getting cramped and tired from being smashed against rock gun at the ready trying to acquire X ray vision to peer through the vegetation.

I'm scanning back and forth sweating, wondering, did he leave.... is he gone johnson? Damn! Occasionally I can hear what sounds like a rock getting hit, by a hoof? Then finally I hear the frantic whispering of my name and quickly glance behind me and find my uncle crouched low but desperately trying to get my attention. He sees the bull coming around that wall of brush and trees to our left I half look at him then look the direction he's motioning. That bull was trying to sneak in and wham I see his front half breaking out of the trees forty yards to my right.

No time for thought the action comes like fluid I swing my muzzleloader to my shoulder and throw the post on the bulls front half in the shoulder/lung vicinity and pull the trigger. In a flash of smoke and spark I see the Bull recoil and think to myself good hit good hit. He runs about fifty yards and stops and you can tell he's hurt bad hurt fatally. He's trying to move to get away but can't. I quickly reload and get up to him and stop this Majestic creatures suffering with one last shot. He was done from the first shot as it took out the shoulder and clipped both lungs low, but again he wanted to live and I didn't want him to suffer. I look at my watch and it's 7:20 pm. We quickly get to work and get him ready for the pack out tomorrow and were hiking back down to camp in the dark.

This will always rank as one of the best and most alive feelings I've ever had and I can only hope I will get to experience it again in my hunting career for as many years as possible.

Thumbs up

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Location: Kentucky/ Colorado
Joined: 06/23/2005
Posts: 1740
Lets see your first !

SoCo,
Yes I am blessed to have my wife hunt with me. I kind of burned her out after that elk hunt but she is starting to get the fever again. She has a pile of points saved up, so she should be drawing some excellent tags in the future.

Thanks for the stories!

elkkill, I loved those old broncos. I use to have a scout that we nicknamed "the meatwagon" LOL! Jeeps get the credit for most of the jeep trails we have in the west but those old broncos, landcruisers & scouts sure helped make those trails.

elkkill06's picture
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Grand Slam Challenge Winner!
Location: Fruita Colorado
Joined: 02/02/2009
Posts: 1946
Lets see your first !

Hiker thanks! We are a Bronco family, those Broncos have been as much a part of my families hunting experience as much as the kill. I love them. Here are the Broncos from over the years. Also a FIRST for me. Thumbs up

My first Bronco, a 1966 one of the first. I really wish I still had it.

My second, a 1974. Sold it because three car seats would not fit. sad

My brothers first also a 1966.

My dads first 1968.

My dads 1972.

My dads 1972 after he wrecked it and then rebuilt it.

My buddies 1971 with us and the kids out rabbit hunting.

My latest one also a 1972. My wife and I with the buck she took last year.

A lot of cool memories! Mr. Cool! I would not trade it for anything! Thumbs up

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Location: Kentucky/ Colorado
Joined: 06/23/2005
Posts: 1740
Lets see your first !

Now that looks like a Bronco family. Thumbs up
Did they put the 289 V-8 in them? What was the most popular engine that they came with?

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Joined: 07/06/2009
Posts: 1
Lets see your first !

hi there....
exbiologist and hiker really nice story and nice pic...
all the best for future hunting..

elkkill06's picture
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Grand Slam Challenge Winner!
Location: Fruita Colorado
Joined: 02/02/2009
Posts: 1946
Lets see your first !

Hiker they came mostly with a 302-V8. THe 66's came with a 170 inline 6 cylinder. My dads 68 came with a 289-V8 and my buddies came with a 351W V-8. My dads 72, my 74 and my latest 72 came with 302's Thumbs up

jeffsays, Welcome to BGH !

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Joined: 06/01/2009
Posts: 5
My sons first elk

Friends not forgotten, elk hunt 2000
It was 10:00 am the day before our hunt. Ron Pierce and I pulled into the McDonalds parking lot in Craig Colorado followed by my son Douglas and his friend Mike in one truck and Rick Dustin, a long time friend, in another truck. We were there to meet up with some other friends of mine, Matt Rogers, Larry Warren Jr., and his dad Larry Warren Sr. who had just finished the 3rd season hunt in Colorado. We wanted to get a report of their hunt and the road conditions to camp. About 15 minutes later Matt, Larry Jr., and Larry Sr. showed up. All had filled their deer and elk tags. Matt had shot an exceptional nice buck. The 2000 hunt looked to be good for us. There had been 3 inches of fresh snow that morning on top of the 5 inches already on the ground. So we knew that we would be chaining up at the turnoff for camp. We admired the elk and deer that Matt, Larry Jr., and Larry Sr. had gotten, and said our goodbyes as they headed for home and we headed for camp.
At the turnoff we all got out, chained up, and headed out for the remaining 14 mile trip down the snow covered rough dirt road to camp. About three miles from camp I stopped where the road passes near by a high ridge to let Ron get out and stretch. It is a beautiful view from that spot. As Ron took in the beauty of the fresh snow on the trees and the wide expanse of the area he turned to me in wonder and said, "Buddy, this is BIG country. I hope I don’t get lost in it". The shear size of the western landscape kept Ron in awe throughout the hunt. Ron is from Florida and has lived in the South all of his life. He has been out west but it was for business and not in a wilderness setting. I had met Ron a few years ago while on a business trip in Florida. We fast became good friends and spent time off fishing and talking about hunting. Finally I convinced him to come out to Colorado and go hunting with me. So here we were with good snow and a great hunt ahead of us.
We drove on to camp and unloaded our gear into the big tent that Matt, Larry Jr., and Larry Sr. had just vacated that morning. Once we were all settled in I took Ron for a drive to another ridge to do a little scouting and to give him another spectacular view of the area. I never get tired of looking out over miles and miles of open country broken here and there with groves of junipers and pinions with rolling hills (Ron called them mountains), sagebrush flats, long draws, valleys, and ridges. When we got back to camp we all made plans for the next morning hunt. There were a lot of "firsts" in our camp. Rick and I had hunted together in high school but this was our first hunt together in over 25 years. It was Mike’s first hunt ever. And it was Ron’s first elk hunt. My son Douglas had shot his first elk, a cow, the year before and was after his first bull. We had a great meal that night and got to bed early but sleep was hard to come by. The anticipation kept us awake for more than an hour.
I had a small alarm clock set to wake us up but forgot to set the button. We slept in about 45 minutes but woke up to new snow and clear skies. It was about 0 deg F outside. As I got the fires going in the stoves and fixed breakfast everyone else got ready to go. As Rick went out to start his truck we realized that it was already getting light outside. Rick quickly stepped back in the tent and barked "ELK!". We went out to see 8 cows passing by our camp about 200 yards away. Not knowing if maybe there were bulls with these cows we foolishly thought that perhaps we could catch up with them and get a good look. This attempt cost us about 30 minutes of good hunting time. We finally went back to camp and headed out to the ridge and valley we had decided we were going to hunt. We drove to the general area and then took off on foot. Douglas and Mike had stopped a couple of miles back and were going to work a ridge up to an area we call "Death Valley". Rick followed us and was going to work his way back south to the upper edge of Death Valley.
Ron and I took off north towards a place we call Jim’s meadow. As we worked our way through the junipers and pinions skirting a side hill we picked up 3 or 4 sets of fresh tracks. As I studied the tracks I realized that these elk were headed for a thick stand of junipers on the other side of Jim’s meadow. I got into the "zone" where I was focused on tracking, smelling, and staying aware of everything ahead of me. After a while Ron gave a soft whistle. I stopped and realized he had fallen back a ways. I walked back to him and asked him if he was OK. He told me "Buddy, these Florida lungs and legs can’t keep up with them Colorado mule legs of yours". "Well then I’ll just slow down some". "NO, no, no. I’ll just follow your tracks. It’s not hard to follow those big #13s in this fresh snow. You’re not going that fast any ways. If you see something just hold up and I’ll be there shortly. If the situation requires shooting then shoot and I’ll be there shortly to help". So I got back on track and started working my way up into the trees. The elk had taken a circuitous route, turning back to the southwest along a side hill. At one point the elk tracks met up with some older hunter tracks made the day before. After a few yards the hunter tracks veered off to the north. I continued to track the elk for another 200 yards. As I eased through the trees my nose caught a strong dose of elk. I froze and started looking real hard through the trees. Sure enough, slightly off to my left about 40 yards out were 2 cows and a spike in their beds starring intently at me. They busted out of their beds and went up and over the ridge and down into the valley beyond heading due west. I followed them up to the ridge and then watched them as they crossed the valley and into the trees beyond about a half mile away. This all took less than 5 minutes. When elk want to leave the country they can do it in a hurry. After they disappeared into the trees I walked south along the ridge towards a saddle to see if I could pick up any other tracks and wait for Ron to catch up. After about 30 minutes I began to wonder where Ron was.
When I had left Ron to start following the elk tracks, Ron had just stood there a moment and looked around at all the beauty around him. This was very different from Florida. He watched me as I intently followed the tracks up into the trees. He then started following me. As he worked his way through the trees he came to a set of tracks that veered off to the north. He decided that maybe I had turned off to work my way around and catch the elk as they moved onto or off the ridge. He followed the tracks up onto the ridge and back to the north opposite of where I was. The tracks headed off down the other side into the valley. Ron just headed down into the valley. When he got to the bottom he started looking for my tracks again. As he hiked around he thought that maybe I had gone back to the truck. He also thought that he was in the draw we had driven up that morning. He hiked north all the way to the head of the valley, about 2 miles. When he realized that he was in the wrong valley and that he really didn’t know where he was at, he decided to follow his own tracks back down the valley to where he had come down off the ridge. Ron later told me, "The hike back up to the ridge was about 500 yards but was very steep. After about 200 yards I began to not feel very well. I stopped and rested and then continued on about 20 yards and had to stop again. I kept doing this until I got to a clump of pinions. I stopped to rest and realized that I may be having a heart attack. I decided to stay put until Bill found me. I knew that if anyone could find me it would be Bill or Rick."
Up on the ridge I caught up with Rick, Douglas and Mike. I told them that I thought that Ron was lost. Rick, Douglas, and I had handheld radios so that we could contact each other if we needed help. Rick went back to the trucks to wait, Douglas and Mike went into the trees just off the ridge and started working their way back towards the trucks and I went back down off the hill to see if I could pick up Ron’s tracks. When I found where he had veered off I called Douglas and told him to come back up on the ridge and start working his way north to the saddle and then wait at the saddle for me to contact him. I followed Ron’s tracks up and over the ridge. I started working my way north along the ridge calling out. It had been over an hour since I had last seen him. I had gone about 200 yards when I heard a faint reply to one of my calls. I moved forward another 100 yards and called again. This time when he replied I located him about 100 yards below me sitting in a clump of pinions. I looked at him through my binoculars and realized he didn’t look so good. I worked my way down to Ron to see what was wrong. He was pale and said that he was not feeling well. He said that he didn’t think he could make it to the top. I told him he could and that I would carry him if I needed to. I gave him a couple of aspirins and some water to drink. We sat there a while to rest, drink water, and eat some jerky. Then we slowly worked our way up to the ridge. When we topped out I called Douglas on the radio and told him that I had found Ron. I told him to go back to the trucks and have him, Rick, and Mike drive the trucks down and around the mountain and meet Ron and I on the road. Ron and I then walked to where I knew the road passed by, about a half mile walk, mostly downhill. By the time we got to the road Ron was feeling much better. Douglas, Mike and Rick showed up about 25 minutes later. In the meantime as I waited I glassed about 5 different groups of elk that were on private property about 3 miles away. Each group held about 50 to 100 elk. All of us watched the elk for a while and then headed back to camp and ate lunch.
The rest of the hunt went smoothly and was a memorable one. We saw elk everyday and everyone had opportunities to shoot. My son Douglas got his bull one evening on the same hillside that Ron had had his incident on. One day Mike stood still by a tree as 32 elk filed pass him 15 feet away, but not one of them was a legal bull. Ron spotted elk 3 different times right outside of camp. Rick shot at and missed 2 beautiful bulls. On the last morning I shot a young bull. On the last day Rick and my son Douglas watched as a huge mule deer buck came to a water hole just below them.
All of these stories I will tell another time. Ron didn’t get an elk but he had a great time with new and old friends. I worried about that near miss of almost losing Ron. He said that he had been scared too but knew that I would find him.
Ron flew back home to Florida. After a couple of months He still didn’t feel quite right so he went in for a checkup. After doing some blood tests the doctors diagnosed Ron with Leukemia. For the next year he went through all the different treatments including Chemo therapy. It looked like he was beating it. We talked at least once a month over the course of the year. We had even talked about him coming out for the 2002 hunt. On March 31st, 2002 Diane, Ron’s wife, called me to let me know that Ron had just passed away. I was shocked since I had just talked to Ron 3 weeks before and he had sounded great. I will miss my friend Ron and will miss having him in camp.
Well in the 2002 hunt I did shoot a 5x5 bull elk in memory of Ron and a cow elk for myself.

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Lets see your first !

In 2001 the weather was very dry and warm compared to the previous year when Ron had come hunting. It was November and the elk were very hard to locate. My buddy Rick and my son Douglas were with me again hunting in area 11. That year I was the only one to see an elk and I killed the only one I saw. It was about 10 am and we had been hunting a mountain where we had seen some fresh sign the evening before. I was hunting down low and had stopped to get a drink of water. All of a sudden I heard rocks, gravel moving above me. The 5 point came out of the pinions north of me and ran pass me and back up a hill side to the south of me. All I could think of was to hit my cow call and that stopped him long enough for me to get the cross hairs on him and drop him.

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Tylor, Robert, Noah, and Rick first elk 2002

2002 came and I had been laid off my job in August. I hunted deer and bear in September, Big Horn ewe sheep and Antelope in October, and Elk in November and December. Then I got a new job in January and moved to southwest Colorado.
During the November hunt in area 11, I had a bull tag for the 3rd hunt and a cow tag for the 4th hunt. I hunted the 3rd season with my buddies Matt, Larry Jr., and Larry Sr. I killed my bull and had a great time hunting. Matt, Larry Jr., and Larry Sr. left camp on Thursday morning and my son Robert, my friend Rick, and my nephew Noah showed up Friday afternoon. Later that night my son Tylor drove in from Denver. He had just returned from his first tour in Iraq. Tylor, Robert, and Noah had not killed an elk yet. We hunted opening morning in our usual places and saw a lot of sign but no live elk. We were heading back to camp for lunch when I told everyone else to go get something to eat while I stayed at a lookout point to glass for elk. They returned about 30 minutes later with a sandwich for me. Tylor asked me if I had seen anything yet and I said no. He asked for my binoculars to glass while I ate. I had taken maybe 3 bites out of my sandwich when Tylor whispered, "ELK". Not 200 yards away about 30 elk came out of a draw and had stopped. We were really not in a good position to shoot plus the elk winded us and started moving out the way they had come. We quickly formulated a plan. I moved quickly to the elks left to try and keep them from going onto private land about a mile away. The boys moved directly towards the elk. The elk were just walking which did allow me to get ahead of them. I could not see them in the draw but I could hear them. The boys later told me that at one point they could see both me and the elk and were amazed that I did not shoot because the elk were only about 30 - 50 yards away from me. In the meantime the boys along with Rick moved up on a ridge opposite the elk to get ahead of them. It worked. The elk winded me again and moved away from me and straight towards the boys. The first of the cows moved past Rick, then Tylor, then Robert. But when that first cow got to Noah he shot her and then the others all shot. In 10 seconds their first elk were all on the ground not 50 yards from each other. From where I was at I heard 6 shots and knew they had killed some elk. I passed up on shooting a cow since I had killed a bull earlier.

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