I obtained a 2020 spike elk tag for the Bookcliffs area in northeastern Utah. My son,Dax, also had a cow tag for the same area a the same time. We had a great opportunity to hunt together for a few days in a remote and absolutely beautiful area of wilderness Utah.
Our hunt started on Saturday 10-3-2020. Early in the morning we went out and toured the mesas and ravines. We spent the day. We looked down deep dark canyons and on rocky ridge tops. We were together without distractions of wives, or children or work calls for several days. It was marvelous. I am proud of my son. He is really the type guy I want to be when I grow up. We have been hunting together for 36 years. I remember taking him hunting in this neck-of-the-woods when he was in 1st grade. We had a great time then and have a great time now. My other son is also accustomed to hunting in this area but living in Texas the trip was too far with family, work, and church obligations. He too likes to be out in God's nature and enjoy the hunt. The three of us have hunted in this area before and his absence was noted various times.
Just as the sun was setting Dax saw a cow elk in the tree line. He looked for a calf and there was none near. He took careful aim at about 250 yards and fired a round. He heard the "thuack" of the bullet impact and thought he had connected with his meat prize. The cow elk disappeared into the trees. Alas, upon hiking to the area of the intended target he found no blood spoor, no sign of a dead or wounded elk. We would have to come back and look closer tomorrow. It was a bit warm in the night but if the elk had laid down it might just expire and we could find the meat in the morning.
The next morning early we were up and going to find the beast. No luck. Crap-O-Rama, the only thing Dax found was a significantly wounded 4" juniper tree branch. I suspect his Barnes 225 gr. .338" bullet hit the branch and deflected away from the elk. The branch's last hurrah was the "thuack" he heard. We continued to hunt and look for elk.
It was Sunday so we went back to camp and listened to LDS general conference on the radio around lunch time. It is kind of fun to be out in nature and be at church at the same time. We ate good and I was overtaken by a great desire to have a nap. I succumbed to the notion and was rewarded by the sandman with some much needed sleep. {How is it I can sleep so deep and satisfying when I am camping or hunting but not so much when I am at home? I do physical exercise at home - painting, setting tile, framing, etc but when sleep comes it is light and not fulfilling.}
Out again to hunt in the evening. I watched the confluence of three canyons for elk, without success. Dax made a hike above me in the hills to the east. Just as the sun was setting again I heard a shot. I though it might have been his so I called on the radio to inquire. He sounded discouraged - he had missed again. This time he shot off-hand over the cow elk at about 190 yards. Now too dark to hunt we headed back to camp. I consoled him with his own words, "it only takes one". I said the third time is the charm. IT WAS . . .
Monday morning we were hunting in locations that should have had elk but none were seen. Later in the afternoon we split up and tried to find elk on two different sides of a drainage mountain. Dax got a good shot at a healthy cow and with one well placed shot took her down for his freezer. I think the cow was about 250 yards away and his shot was right on. DRT. Dax quartered the elk and hung it in a tree to keep the predators away then hiked back to transport and drove to camp. He called a pal to come help hike the meat out in the morning. I turns out he pal was coming out into the area in the morning anyway so it all worked out perfectly.
Next morning the young guys went for the meat and I hunted ridge tops for spike elk. I saw no animals but did get some fine photos of a pristine natural area. I really, really like being out in the mountains. We got the meat to a road to transport it back to camp and hung it up to cool some more. We had a good chili lunch at camp and told stories, shared philosophies, and generally did the things elk hunters do when in their element. YES, B.S. was thick and laughter was ever present. I love it.
On the way to my son's home we stopped at Cafe Rio for a NON-camp lunch. It too was "excelente".
This was a perfect elk hunt. I had a great time with my son. We got an elk. I communed with nature again and escaped the hassle of city life for awhile. Father and son time is precious, and I am thankful to Heaven for it.
