By Seth Holcomb

Last June I received a phone call from my excited 16 year old cousin, Preston, who explained to me that he had finally drawn the youth only either sex elk hunt in October.  This was a hunt that he unsuccessfully tried to draw for five years.  Preston has been hunting with me for the last eight years and has become one of my regular hunting partners.  The first time I took him hunting he was just eight years old and it was one of the coldest hunts I’d ever been on. It was a late December cow hunt, and despite the cold he stuck right by my side without complaint for three days. Although we did not see any elk for those three days, the sparkle in his eye and his excitement never wavered.  Preston had to return to school, so he missed seeing me bring down a cow the next day, but when I called him with the good news I could tell by his excitement he was hooked!

After a few agonizing months of waiting, October finally came, and it was time to hunt.  In preparation we discussed where we should go using the information he had gotten from his friends and I had gotten from mine.  We decided to try an area neither one of us had ever been.  This area was suggested by both his friends and mine, so we loaded up the camper, 4wheeler and headed to the mountains.  You could see the eagerness on his face as we drove to camp. We set up camp, making sure the generator and the fridge were up and running, then unloaded the 4wheeler and my homemade trailer to haul game.  Everything seemed to be set up, so we decided to have a quick lunch and get out and do some scouting.

As we headed out into the canyon looking for a place off the road and away from private property, the wind picked up to around 20 mph making it very difficult to hear anything.  We randomly picked a canyon and headed up. We found plenty of water and elk sign but didn’t hear any bugling.  We climbed to the top of the ridge and cow called a few times without a response.  I did not like the look of the ridge top so we headed to the next ridge about a half mile away.  The terrain was not changing and we were both getting very discouraged due to the lack of response to our calls. After all, the rut was on, so the bulls should have been very vocal.  We decided to head back to the 4wheeler and go further up the canyon to a large aspen filled bowl that we could see.  As I turned I stepped on a large rock that rolled down the mountain side for about 45 seconds, I looked at my cousin and said "if there was a bull in here, he’s long gone now".  50 yards further down the hill and I cow called again, to my surprise I got an immediate bugle from a bull that was only about 20 yards away.  We could hear grunting as he walked but we could not see him.  The bull had cows with him that led him off before we could get a clear look at him.  I looked at Preston and saw the biggest smile you could imagine; the hunt was getting real to him.

It was getting towards that magical hour when the elk start to move and become vocal, I told Preston we needed to get up the hill as fast and quietly as possible to give us the best chance of seeing a bull.  About half way to the top I cow called and heard five bugles coming from all around us.  We came to a ponderosa tree and used it for cover while I called again.  On the other side of the tree there was a small meadow with a 6x6 bull looking for the cow he kept hearing.  The wind swirled, as it does so often on the mountain tops, and he caught our scent and was gone as fast as we saw him.  We continued to call in that area but without any luck, so I told Preston we needed to sneak out and wait until morning to try again.  As we got to the canyon bottom we heard the bulls start bugling again, and decide that was going to be our spot in the morning.

We got dressed and ready to head out in the dark, cold, and windy morning, jumped on the 4 wheeler and headed for our spot.  We walked up the mountain side to the small meadow in the dark.  Just as the sun came up I started to cow call, but didn’t get a response.  I told Preston that we should head to the right to get up on top of the mountain and see if we can find the elk trying to bed down.  I continued to cow call every so often but got no response.  When we got to the top of the mountain we took a break, and I began to cow call a few times and even throw in a bugle to mix things up.  We got no response, and I was trying not to show my discouragement to Preston.  We decided to keep walking to see what we could run into, as it is only about 0700.  Just then he whispered "Elk".  I looked around but didn’t see anything.  We were in some very thick country so I used my binoculars, but I still don’t see a thing.  I sat and watched for a few minutes but nothing showed itself.  I started to think that what he saw was actually a stump or something else that he mistook for an elk.  Preston said "I’m going to move closer" and headed about 50 yards down the mountain.  I sat, without success, trying to see what he was talking about.  At this point he turned around and motioned me to move towards him.  I moved up beside him behind a tree and STILL didn’t see an elk.  I asked him where the elk was and he motioned to look around the tree.  I leaned to my right as far as I could and sure enough, saw the back side of an elk.  I asked Preston if it was good bull, and he said he thought it was.  I told him it was his decision because I couldn’t see from where I was sitting.  He told me it was a shooter, so I sat there holding my ears for what seemed like forever and finally asked him what was taking so long.  Preston told me the bull was looking right at him and he was waiting for a broadside shot.  That was when I noticed him shaking like a leaf.  I told him to calm down and take a few deep breaths.  Before I could cover my ears again the shot rang out and the bull was on the ground.

As soon as the elk hit the ground all I could see was Preston’s smile.  At that moment I could tell all of the long hikes and cold nights over the years were well worth it to him. We took some time to take pictures and celebrate, and I told him it was time for him to get to work. I had to go back to camp to get his Dad, brother, and my trailer to get the bull out, and HE needed to start gutting his elk.  I got back to camp, told Preston’s Dad and brother to jump into the trailer, and we headed back to help Preston.  About 6 miles from camp the “custom” trailer wheel fell off and my passengers ended up in the mud.  We moved the trailer off the side of the trail and headed out again.  By the time we got back to Preston he had finished gutting the bull and was just waiting for us to show up, still with that smile on his face.  We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon packing out the bull.  Three trips later we were on our last load, and Preston was carrying his trophy, still smiling from ear to ear.

I guess that all of the years he followed me around the mountains he was actually paying attention and learning.  My hunting buddy actually showed me a thing or two and was able to spot the bull before I knew anything was there.  Needless to say I count myself lucky to have found a hunting partner who will stick with me.  We have been through some of the bad and as you have read some of the great parts of hunting together.  He really impressed me on this hunt and I can’t wait to hunt with him for years to come.