Sunday, October 11, 2009

Absaroka Hunting

Hunting in the Absarokas
October 10th and 11th, 2009

The Cabin


The Cabin Interior

Headed up to my folks for some deer and elk hunting this weekend. Lots of snow. Dad drove his jeep up into the cabin in a blizzard Friday night. Hadn't heard from him since he cleared the last high point before dropping into the cabin. Figured he was safe, but it gave me a good reason to get out and up there- check and make sure anyway.


My transport up the mountain, to the cabin.

Once I got up there and found everyone in one piece still, figured it was time to hunt. Decided to try a new method...


I tried hunting off of skis this weekend.


Conditions were perfect for it.


My first turns of the season!


Looking towards the East Fork, getting ready to sail back down to the cabin.



Ski Hunting Video


Never saw anything to shoot at, but the XC skiing was good!


Dad, speckin out the elk tracks from the night before, that went right by the cabin, Castle Rock in the background.


Good stuff!


Dad and his two Jeeps (the dog's name is Jeep).



Driving up out of the cabin.


Looking into and up the Wiggins Fork Canyon


Dad climbing up out of a steep draw above the Wiggins Fork.

Didn't really see much this weekend. A couple of Elk ran by the cabin Saturday night, about a mile away. A deer or two, here or there- nothing worth shooting. Not much shakin' up the Wiggins either. After I left though Dad went back up Bear Creek, where we had scene sign of some bigger herds, and got into them- a group of 40 or 50 elk. I guess he shot a few times (out of range) and chased the heck out of em' till it got dark. Maybe he'll get one tomorrow. When I got home, I heard Barney had got one Saturday afternoon and was looking for help to drag him out- seems like a good year for elk hunting so far.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Wind River Elk Hunt

Mexican Creek Elk Hunt
Shoshone NF, Southern Wind River Range
October 9th -13th, 2009

The pursuit of large ungulates seems to lead me on rather epic adventures often including very challenging situations... alright, I'll be honest- sometimes a dumbarse attack or two as well. This year I'd like think I avoided the latter, but definitely not the first two. A few days before elk season opened, one day after school I took the family up the mountain on a mad dash to set up a camp. I borrowed an old tent from my father-in-law. I'm not sure he would have loaned it to me, if he would have understood more about what it would lead to. Anyhoo... Mandy and the kiddos helped me set it up, about half of it in the dark. We ended up getting home about 10:30pm that night- did the whole 4WD ride down the mountain in the dark. Camp was set though. My plan was to use it all throughout Elk season. I couldn't wait to get back up there and try it out. The rest of this blog entry/ trip report is dedicated to telling story of my first four nights in my canvas castle, while hunting the ever elusive Mexican Creek Elk- a couple of them being unintended.


The First Night: Friday, October 2nd

Arriving at camp

I packed everything up Thursday night, preparing for a quick get away after work Friday. Friday, I zipped home, changed and loaded up- headed up the mountain before 5:30pm. The area is only about 15 miles up the mountain from our home in Lander, but most of those miles are up rough mountain roads, and the last four or five miles is pretty much mostly an ATV road. It's alright for 4WDs when conditions are dry, but it's so rough you can't go much more that 5 mph in a vehicle. ATVs are much faster. I dumped my ATV at the bottom of the mountain, opting to park my truck down there in case the weather got bad. The forecast called for snow on Sunday, and I didn't want to have to drive my truck down slimy, muddy, snowy switchbacks. Been there before- not pretty. Took me about 3o minutes or so to buzz into camp on my ATV loaded with a few days of supplies. When I got to camp, it was still standing- impressive considering some of the winds it endured a few days before. I was thrilled. I unpacked and fired up the stove... double bonus- it appeared to work really well too. I gathered a night's worth of wood before settling for the night.


A panoramic view of the interior of my canvas condo.


Complete with gas lighting


As darkness settled in a full moon illuminated camp- beautiful evening.


Sweet dreams... of giant wapiti.


The First Day: Saturday, October 3rd

The view of my camp from a ridge above it, Red Butte in the background

Well rested, I got up very early the next morning, fired up the stove, fixed some coffee and some oatmeal and prepared my pack for morning hike up the drainage behind my tent, up to a ridge (Windy Ridge) that's always proved to be a good spot for elk to hang out.



Calling for elk on Windy Ridge

The only thing I saw on my hike up was a pretty nice deer. Too bad deer season wasn't open yet. Doubt I'll see him after it opens. Ha! Conditions were dry and sunny- not the best for hunting elk in this area, so decided to try my bugle. I found some interesting blinds of sorts constructed out of stones and sticks. I parked it in one of these an bugled. I did this for hour- enjoying the views. No answer though. No elk. Oh well.


Bragg Mountain

After my morning hike, I headed to camp, ate lunch and then decided to take a stroll up Bragg Mountain. Didn't seem like much was shakin' anywhere and I was curious about the view from the top of this hill, so it seemed like something to do. It was.


Looking down into the North Fork canyon from the top of Bragg Mountain.


Looking out towards Red Butte and Lander from the top of Bragg Mountain. I guess I have "Bragging" rights now.


After the Bragg Mt Hike, it was time for a nap.


A look back at camp as I headed out for my third hike and final hike of the day- another none productive one.


My Saturday night feast.



Complete with live entertainment... featuring a homemade rendition of the Big Wapiti Blues!

After jammin' out for a while, I threw a big log in the stove and crawled in the sack- probably around 10pm. I thought maybe Barney, a trusty ol' hunting partner, might show up. However I figured he'd roll in a little earlier. I gave up on him around nine. Go figure though- there was a hollerin' at the tent door not long after I hit the sack. The Barney had arrived. Mexican Creek elk were doomed, I thought. I slept well.


Day Two: Sunday, October 4th

Early Sunday Morning

As I peaked my head out the tent door early Sunday morning and saw this (2 to 3 inches of snow on the ground) I grinned and said to Barney "We're in business!" Conditions were perfect for assaulting elk in this area now. I figured it was only a matter of time now.


Barney blazes trail through 3 going on 6 inches of snow- looking for elk.

We put a three hour hike in this morning and never cut a track. Visibility was low as wet, soggy snow piled up at an alarming rate. It appeared that the elk just were here yet. Barney figured they just were here yet- still higher up. More likely, I thought, they recognized the sound of Barney's four wheeler the night before- knew it was Barney, and ran for their lives... I'm sure he's a legend amongst them- a terrifying one. Probably not one of them who hasn't lost a relative or two to Barney over the years.


After a few hours of slogging through snow and blizzard, we arrived back at camp, cold, wet and tired.

After lunch and couple of hours of resting and drying off, Barney decided his presence was intimidating the elk, so he figured he'd head down the mountain and return a couple of days later- maybe catching them by surprise, after the storm. I decided to weather out the storm. I'd made some arrangements to take Monday off anyway and figured with Barney leaving and the snow flying, the elk were sure to come. After Barney left, I spent some time shoveling snow, shaking the roof and gathering/ cutting firewood. Then I headed out for another trudge through the snow in a different area- hoping to fine some tracks at least.


A look back at camp on my way out for an evening hunt.


I figured I'd better brush my four wheeler off and fire it up at least. Over a foot of snow now.

My luck didn't improve on my evening jaunt. No track, no elk- nothing. Not a fit night out for man nor beast. I got back to camp, shoveled some more snow, at dinner and turned in for the night. I was beginning to wonder just when this storm would stop. There was nearly two feet of snow on the ground now. I was having my first thoughts about maybe how hard it could be to get out of here, if the snow continued. I slept alright anyway.


The view outside my tent, just before I went to bed Sunday night.

Day Three: Monday, October 5th

I awoke to sagging but holding strong roof. The snow had tapered off, though it was now nearly thigh deep. I made coffee and oatmeal while warming up near the blazing stove- plotting my attack for the day. I was thinking with this much snow, there'd have to be some elk down and around now. I decided to try the same hike as I did the day before with Barney. Immediately I noticed the deer were out and about- lots of deer tracks. I took this as a sign that critters might be more active today, although it was still snowing and overcast. After making only a third of the distance in twice the time, because of the snow, I cut my hike a short and climbed- or wallowed up a hill above my camp. While making may way back down to camp, I noticed some critters not far from my tent. I figured they were deer, some that I had seen the night before. As I got closer, I realized they were big deer. Big deer with small ears. Then I saw one with antlers- holy crap/ Boone and Crocket size antlers- for a deer. Then he turned sideways. Elk! Right there by camp- not far from my four-wheeler. The hunt was on!

You might say, I got my sneak on. It was a down hill assault. Between the trees loaded with snow and the white-out squalls- they never saw me coming. Until I popped out from behind a tree 200 yards away in front of the five by six bull that had just settled down for a nap. He stood up when he saw me. Then I employed my typical method of full on assault. I leveled off my 300 H & H magnum and put the squeeze one of the hot dog sized cartridges. Kaaaboooom! Thwack! He just looked at me- trying to walk slowly away. I knew I hit him, but my practice over the years, I've grown to perfect, seems to be to go for a gut or arse shot first. This usually slows them down a bit, where I can charge them and finish them off at closer range. Such was the case here. I gut shot him with the first shot. I proceded to fire off a few more rounds in haste- just to get him moving. I reloaded and charged. He made a run for the trees. I gained on him. at 50 yards in the trees I fired off a few more round- grazing his back and poking an eye out. He ran some more- I was right behind him, snow flying, dodging trees, grunting and panting the whole way. He stopped again as he got out of the trees, I fired once or twice more- this time from 15 yards away. This time I took out his front running gears. He was going down. I reached down for more shells- "Shit!", I thought. I was out of ammo already. There was more in my pack, but I didn't have time to fish those out... "Fix Bayonets!"

Actually, I just waited. He didn't go much further, and didn't try when I didn't follow him. I could see him the whole time. I knew he was beggining his journey to reunite with his former cousins and brothers that Barney had sent on their way in years past. It was smooth, peaceful journey.


Parting shots of the majestic.


He's gone. Just grubs now.


I paused for a few shots with him, using the time delay- I was alone.


The 300 downs it's third bull. Now the real work began...



20 or 30 minutes later I had him cleaned out.


Took me about an hour or so to drag him threw the two and a half feet of snow, down to the parking area by Uncle Tom's Spring- at least it was mostly downhill.


I drug him out hole.

As I was dragging him out some hunters that were staying in a nearby cabin that I had met earlier showed up. They helped my drag him the last 100 hundred yards or so. They had watched me dragging him for a while. As they approached, one guy said "Jesus, I thought you were just dragging the head and cape!" Then another guy exclaimed, "Nope, that's the whole fuckin' elk!" The third guy said, "Cripes son, what'd you eat for breakfast? I want some." "Oatmeal", I replied.

After getting the bull to the parking area, I began quizing the hunters about the private road they used to access their cabins in the area. I was concerned with the snow, and the fact that I had seen absolutely nobody else in the area, that the road I had to use to get out was going to be impassible- the snwo being too deep. They told me that they did use another road, and it could get you out (it was all down hill), but that they wouldn't leave to go down it until they had all or most of their elk. They hadn't gotten any yet. I told them where I was camped and that I was going to scout the road and try to get out, but if I didn't- I might need their help, because I only had food and water enough for another night. They were nice folks- willing to help.

Before I loaded up my elk, I hiked back to camp and took my ATV downthe road to scout conditions. I had issues driving it up the first serious hill I came to- really big issues. The next hill was four times as long twice as steep and snow as likely even deep on it, because it was in the trees. I was exhausted from hunting and dragging elk all day and only had half a day left. At this point, I knew I'd be staying another night- if nothing else, just to gather my strength for day of shoveling my way up snow hills, just to get home. I went back to gather up my elk.


My elk loaded up on my ATV.

Apparently I didn't eat enough oatmeal to load him whole onto my ATV. I quartered him up in order to conquer this job. I figured it would ride better this way too. I knew it was going to be one heck of interesting ride out.


Before turning in for the night, I went out to check on the elk and warm up the ATV again.

While I was out, the folks from the cabin cam by again. I told them I didn't think I'd be able to get out the way I came. I had cut more wood and was set for the night, but I told them after that, I might need help. I was also banking on the possibility that Barney would return to hunt on Tuesday, like he talked about Sunday. I thought maybe he could break open the roads by going down them on his way in. Later that night I called him- I did have cell phone that I used to call Mandy once a night. The batteries were getting low though. My hope was renewed a bit that night after I called Barney. He indicated that he did intend to head up my way the next day, with a friend on another, bigger ATV with chains, shovels and winches.



My "survivor" clip- settling down after big day of hunting and packing elk, preparing for a fourth night in my canvas cabin.


My best friend through it all- the stove. Don't leave home without it!

I slept nervously all night, not knowing exactly when or if I'd be able to off the mountain. Around 11pm that night as I was drifting in and out of slumber, I began to hear noises. Elk noises. The elk were talking. At first I thought I was dreaming, then I got up. There were bulls bugling, snorting and grunting- at least two of them. Ten yards from my tent. Cows and calves were chirping and squeeking all over. It sounded like a herd of 40 or 50 elk, surrounding my camp. They were here now, in full force. It was a good omen.



Day Four: Tuesday, October 6th

The next day I awoke to bluebird conditions and shots being fired. I had made arrangements to call Barney at 8am to check on their progress, if they hadn't arrived by then. The news was bad. In short he said, "You aren't getting home this way." Turns out the big, steep hill that concerned me was the issue. They sent the bigger ATV with chains and a winch down the hill, in hopes of plowing it a bit so as to make it possible to drive up it. It didn't work. They spent an hour or two winching that machine back up the hill. Yikes. I told him that I'd heard shots and was hoping that it was the folks I met yesterday and maybe they'd gotten some elk and were going to head down. I packed my gear and set out to find them.

As I was packing my gear onto my ATV, I saw one of them drive by. I followed. Turns out they had gotten into a bunch of elk- the night before and that morning. Probably some of the same ones that came through my camp the previous night. They had three down. I explained my predicament and gave them the latest on the road conditions. I offered to help them track a wounded elk and drag the others etc. They said they'd get me out- they had to get their elk down now too. I helped them track their elk. I found the trail. After a couple of hours of hikingup hill through deep snow, it became clear that the elk was not critically wounded and that he was not slowing dnw any time soon. The shooter made the call to bail on it. It was time to go home... finally!


The view Tuesday morning from up high on ridge around the Mexican Creek area.

The private road they used to go downthe mountain worked good. It went through three locked gates though, and it was so buried in the snow, I never would have been able to find it by myself. Eventually it ended up spitting us out on the North Fork road about 12 miles or so from Lander- 30 from my truck. I actually had to drive my four wheeler- loaded up with elk and all my gear- through Milford, down the highway and up Main Street in Lander. I'm sure that was a sight for passing motorists. I dropped the meat off at the processor on the way home. I drove home on my four wheeler. It was good to be home. This time, it was almost maybe the best part of the hunt.


Seamus checks out the elk- pets it actually.


Couldn't pry him off the four wheeler.


Me the kiddos and the elk.

It wasn't over though. I still had to go get my truck, which was still parked at the bottom of a different road at the base of the mountain. After hugging mom and kiddos, I set off again on the ol Bombardier Quest 650 to go get my truck.


Approaching my truck.


Although the road was sloppy, it wasn't bad.

The one thing I have learned over the years is to leave my truck at the bottom of this mountain this tim of year, instead of using the upper parking area. The road can go from dry to white knuckle, greasy, steep switchbacks in a matter of hours. Been there done that. Learned from that dumbarse attack a few years back. Ha!


Had to shovel the two feet of wet snow out before I load up the ATV.

Eventually I got things loaded up and slopped my way down the road to the pavement. Whew! Made it! Now it was over. I cranked up The Black Crowes, a warm tingly feeling came over me, an ear to ear grin broadened and I let out one heck of a "Yaaahoooooo!" It was over, I made it. Everything came out in one piece, or all pieces (the elk). What a hunt!

The funny thing is, chances a damned good I'll be doing it all over again soon, maybe even in a few days- probably for someone else's elk.


Two Weeks Later...

Two week later- still standing!

Almost two weeks later conditions had warmed and dried out enough I was able to get back into my camp again. The mission this time was packing it out- before the next storm.


How in the heck will all of this fit?


Dunno, but it did.


Heading up out of Mexican Creek on the section of road that was impassible two weeks ago- the snow was just too deep in here, plus the road is very steep.


Everything back down at the truck- in one piece still.


Looking down at the load from the back of the truck. Whew! Got it all out.

The End!!