My son and I had a plan to go elk hunting in the Unitah mountains this year. He and I have hunted there before and we know there are elk in the area, we just hadn't seen one. I think we were both ready for some success. I took my alpine camper and he used a friend's full-on 28 foot trailer. We made the camp in our usual spot and it was just beautiful, as it is every fall. This year was special because my son brought his entire family. Even little Quinn who is just 3 months old made her first trip to the elk camp. Dax's oldest son, Hunter, is 6 and he went out with the big boys this year in the early morning on opening day. My other son, Matt, came along and camped with me. It was so great as a father and grandfather to be with my boys hunting in such a beautiful area.
Saturday, opening morning, was great and aweful at the same time. Dax and Matt and Hunter were going to a spot where we knew there might be elk. They got close to their hunting position almost at first light. While they were walking toward their pre-decided location they heard a shot maybe 200 yards away. Sure enough, there were elk in the area and another hunter and his small son shot a 5 point bull very close to the area where they were headed. Dax is such a nice guy he helped the fellow clean and transport his elk to the road. The poor guy had shot the elk but hadn't the foggiest idea how to clean it. He was up to his elbows in blood and only had maybe a quart of entrails out of the elk carcass. {Sportsmen realize there are probably 20 quarts of entrails in an elk so the poor bugger had a long way to go.} Dax, Hunter and Matt didn't see any more elk that morning. Nor did I in another area kind of close.
We hunted the remainder of the opening day and in the evening. Dax's wife Tristie and the kids all went home around noon. Quinn had come ill prepared and only brought herself 5 diapers for the elk hunt. It was her very first elk camp so I don't harbor any preparation feelings toward her this year. That night after dark the big boys drove back to Roosevelt we spent the night in soft warm beds at Dax's home. Sunday morning Matt went home to Bountiful and his family. A day of rest and good food at Dax's was the order for Sunday.
Monday I returned to the elk camp as did Dax. He had to work at snagging a bear in someone's back yard in Vernal before he could come up to hunt. I hiked around in lots of likely spots and found lots of elk tracks and poop. I was getting excited as an elk had been shot in the area and I was finding lots of sign. Monday evening Dax and I went for a hike to a small meadow he had found on opening day. I sat in the western end of the meadow and tried to look like a bush in front of a tree. I didn't move and watched the meadow for movement and the trees surrounding it for elk passing through. Dax went on a short hike {100 yards or so} to the west and north of my position to look for elk and see if he could spot some mountain goats he had been watching on opening day. Around 6:45 p.m. I saw a 5 point bull elk walk into the meadow to graze. He was a fine looking bull for me. I moved my left arm ever so slowly to pick up my rifle. I put the crosshairs of my scope on his rib cage just behind the front shoulder. I clicked off the safety and pressed the trigger gently. The rifle went off and it was a surprise for me and Dax and the elk. The bullet went right where it had been aimed and the elk staggered and jogged off to the south east. I was shooting a .338 Win. Mag. so I doubted the elk could go far.
Dax came running when he heard the shot. He said he was maybe 20 yards away in the trees and thought it might have been me shooting -- then he smelled the gun powder and knew it was me. We both shoot the same rifle and ammunition so he knew the smell from practice sessions. I was not up on my feet yet and thought it wise to let the elk have a minute to lay down and bleed out. We went to where the elk was standing in the meadow to look for blood on the ground. Dax asked me, "you couldn't have missed could you?" I said "No here is some blood on the ground" and I started to track the elk drop by drop. The elk was bleeding lots so the trail of blood was not hard to follow even in the dimming sun light. Dax walked into the forest of trees thinking like a wounded elk. He walked down paths and between trees looking for an animal lying down. I was following the blood spoor. Last thing Dax said as he was entering the thick trees is "Where is George {the Namibian tracker} when you need him?"
I heard a shot ring out in the trees about 35 yards ahead of me. Dax had seen the elk lying down and his head was still moving so to prevent him from getting up he shot him again in the neck {to not waste any meat.} The elk was dead now. I walked quickly to Dax's position and we congratulated each other excessively. It is rare to harvest a 5 point bull elk on public land on an open bull tag. We have been hunting in this general area for three years for this guy and we finally got one! We took photos and were proud of ourselves in the dark. My shot had been right where I aimed and had trashed the elk's liver and some of his lungs. He was pretty closed to his last bite of grass when Dax saw him. He couldn't get up but Dax didn't know that and rather than risk chasing a wounded animal in the dark, he just put him down. Fine by me.
We field dressed the elk and cut it in half. We lashed a cross pole to two pine trees and hung the halves up to cool in the night. I think it was around 35º that night and the elk meat was fine hanging at that temperature. We didn't want to invite any bears to share in our harvest so we had to hang it up. We hiked back to our transportation and then drove to a small peak where we had cellular service and called family to let them know we had success.
We calmed down from the hunting rush and went to sleep around 11 p.m. We were up early, 6 a.m., to hunt our way back to the elk hanging and maybe get Dax an elk too. We didn't see any elk on the way in and we packed the elk out to a spur in the road in two trips. Dax did most of the packing. I did however carry out the backstraps and a front quarter. We loaded up and went back to camp to make another cross bar to hang the elk meat on. Dax had brought some game bags to protect from flies and the elk hung there rather well in the shade.
We hunted for another day and a half for Dax an elk. We didn't see any but were in an area where there are lots of elk tracks and poop. I know there are more elk in there. Dax is going back next week to hunt a day or two and pick up the trailer he left there. I packed up my camper and hauled the elk meat down to a processing plant late Wednesday. I got to sleep in a soft bed and eat real good food again at Dax's house. Thursday morning I started for home 400 miles away.
I look back on this as another of the greatest hunts of my life. My sons were with me, my daughter-in-law was there and the grandkids. PLUS, we got to harvest a nice 5 point bull. It doesn't get much better than that, thanks to the Lord.
