After five weekends without seeing any elk I was starting to feel a bit discouraged. It had been a great season otherwise, good camaraderie, beautiful weather, lots of wildlife, but still no elk. I spent the first four weekends hunting in some picturesque forests in the Nestucca River valley. But there just wasn’t enough fresh sign and I didn’t know the area well enough. So for the last weekend, my hunting partner, Michael, convinced me to head out to an area near the coast where we had hunted previous years.
The first two days were fun but fruitless. No elk, no fresh sign. No one was seeing much. On the last day of the season I struck out on my own, my buddies needed to sleep in and so did I but I sucked it up and headed out, determined to find some action. I headed up to a system of ridges that were partially clear cut. I was making my way along a creek and decided to throw out a cow call just in case. I got a cow call in response right away so I stopped in my tracks and just looked and listened. The creek was deep in a ravine and not really accessible from where I was. The day before I got caught up in a calling duel with another hunter which happens a fair bit in God’s Valley with the density of hunters that it has. That made me skeptical because the scenario was exactly the same. I acted as though it was elk but my heart told me it was just another hunter.
I slowly crept around a hairpin turn in the road which eventually brought me to the other side of the creek. I heard some movement and a few more mews coming from the elk/hunter but I could never get a visual. The calls had moved up the hill on the other side of the road which was clear cut and slash. I still thought it was a hunter getting a better position to draw me in but I pressed on. I followed the calls up over the hill, keeping my distance so they couldn’t see me. I finally decided to let out a bugle and quickly got one in response. My heart sank. That was the worst bugle I had ever heard. Clearly it was some hunter that still hadn’t figured out his call yet. But still I carried on, following the calls up the ridge. I heard a second bugle off the left from another ridge but I stayed on target with the cow calls and the inept bugler.
Now I was starting to see fresh tracks and my spirits rose, maybe this was an actual herd. When I got to the top of the rise there was another road with a stand of spruce growing so tight you could barely see between them let alone walk or shoot. The cow calls and bugles were now coming from inside the spruce and by that point I was convinced, no hunter in their right mind would set up in that thick spruce. I looked over to the other ridge from my new vantage point to scope out the distant bugle. I saw two hunters climbing up the ridge away from me. They must have seen me, and wondered why I was bugling my fool head off and given up in disgust. I focused my attention on the spruce stand and the elk hiding within. I settled in for the long haul and plotted my strategy.
The road wrapped around the spruce on three sides. It was mostly rough clear cut on the other side of the road but also a section that had equally dense spruce on both sides. That left me with limited options for visual cover to take a shot from. I felt very exposed in the road and I could go into the spruce after them. I paid close attention to the wind and it was largely in my favor from most sides of the spruce but I always kept it in mind. Once the bull got his cows settled in the spruce they stopped responding to my calls. The bull, however, kept up his dialogue. His bugle was low pitched and funny sounding but he answered back at almost every bugle I made, sometimes closer to the edge, sometimes further back in. It was clear he was cautious and wasn’t going to come charging out on a whim.
I eventually coaxed him to the edge and set up to shoot. He fell silent and I waited, bow up and ready to shoot. 15 minutes past and I didn’t hear anything so I assumed he had backed off again. I got curious and decided to peak my head in the spruce and see what I could see. That was a mistake. He was there the whole time and bolted when I peeked in. I didn’t get a good look at him though. In an attempt to fix my error I let off a quick bugle and another couple cow calls to reassure him that I was just some elk. It worked. A few minutes later he lit up again, bugling back at me from deep in the spruce. Relieved I started working him again, slowly coaxing him to the edge.
The afternoon wind was starting to pick up and I was feeling stressed about the time. It was the last day and I was supposed to be heading back home. Getting an elk now would be dicey but how could I walk away from this!? The wind was beginning to swirl and that made it trickier to set up a good shot, I didn’t want him to wind me so I had to be extra careful. Another complication was calling a bull in alone. They are very good at pinning you down based on sound. To help get around this problem I would dash back into the clearcut away from the bull, call several times and then dash back to be in shooting position if he came out. Eventually he came to the edge. I couldn’t see him yet but I could hear him stepping right at the edge. I fell silent and waited. He let out a chuckling bugle about ten yards in front of me and I felt it in my bones and down my spine. I waited.
Finally I saw the brush shake and part. His head broke through and I was floored. He was massive. There were at least seven tines on one side but I wasn’t too focused on counting at the time. His eye was trained in my direction and he paused. I stood like a statue next to a scraggly fir sapling with my bow poised to draw. It was pitiful cover but it was the best I could manage. I felt naked and exposed under his gaze. He stepped forward and revealed his whole body. The sun caught his red tinged fur and lit him up like a flame. It took my breath away and I struggled to regain my composure. I knew I couldn’t move a muscle yet, He was standing still and looking right at me. I had to wait.
After what seemed like an eternity but was likely only a few seconds he stepped forward cautiously but turned his vigilant gaze away from me. This was my chance. I started to draw but only made it halfway back before he snapped his head around. I could not hold my heavy yew long bow at half draw for long so I reluctantly let off slowly and silently and waited again. Somehow satisfied, he began to walk again. I pulled back to full draw as he moved, hoping his own movement would hide mine. I must have been shaking a bit and my arrow clattered on my bow slightly as I drew. His whole body tensed and the muscles rippled under his hide. His head wheeled around again and I knew that it was going to be my only chance. I picked my spot behind his front shoulder and let my arrow loose. At the first snap of my string the wise old bull exploded into movement so fast and graceful you could never believe an animal that large was capable of it. He pivoted back towards the spruce so fast that from the time I loosed my arrow to the time it reached its destination he was completely out of the way. My arrow hit the dirt and he disappeared into the trees, crashing off into the distance.
I stood in disbelief for a few moments, absorbing all that had just transpired. I gave him some time to cool off and tried to start up a conversation with him but to no avail. He had taken his cows and left the area. I was simultaneously devastated and elated. I had wanted to prevail so badly I could taste it and was disappointed with my failure. I was also grateful for that magical interaction and felt some pride that I was able to trick that wise and cautious king of the forest into offering me a shot.
