Elk: Elk Hunting Together

Elk Hunting Together
Rockie Jacobsen

Elk

My wife and I have had some great hunting adventures together since I met her 35 years ago. Rena grew up in a hunting family, as did I. She has been fortunate to have been involved in several successful hunts, as well as some not so successful hunts. One thing about going out hunting with Rena is that you can almost guarantee that something is going to happen. She has gotten herself into some very interesting situations. She is a magnet for good luck. I would like to tell the story of a previous elk hunt so that you will get the idea of this luck thing she has going. A few years back, the two of us headed out for an evening hunt to one of Rena’s favorite hunting spots. We had to walk in about half a mile down an old logging road to a clear cut, where we had planned to sit and watch, hoping for an elk to come out feeding. Rena picked out her favorite stump, sat down and got ready. We weren’t there five minutes when she leaned over and whispered to me that she could hear elk walking around below us in the thick brush. I trusted her, because after many years of working in the woods running chainsaws to fall timber, my hearing wasn’t so great anymore. However, I still had good eyes and soon I spotted a young bull feeding on a bush approximately two hundred yards straight across the draw from us. It was a nice 4×4, a perfect elk for us meat eaters. In our country, if you see a bull to shoot you had better take it. The brush is usually so thick that you don’t get many chances at seeing another elk. Rena soon spotted the bull as well and got ready for a shot. At that time, she was shooting a 7mm magnum. The shot was a piece of cake for that gun at 200 yards. The gun cracked and the bull was still there. He hadn’t even flinched and was still feeding on the bush. I had her shoot again, and again the bull never moved. I was a little louder by now in giving her my instructions. I halfway yelled for her to give him another and tried to keep my cool as best as I could. Rena wasn’t reloading this time; however, she was only holding her hand over her eye. When I looked closer, I saw that the gun had bumped a little too hard and cracked her over the eye with the scope. Blood was flowing down her face. As caring as I was, I instructed her to reload and shoot again. The bull wasn’t going to stand there all day. I have never had a bull just stand there. They are usually two ridges over by now. Rena looked up at me with some disgust in her eyes and asked, “How the heck can I shoot again if I can’t see what to shoot at? My contact has flown out and is on the ground somewhere!” We both began digging at the ground, searching for the contact but knowing that we were fighting a losing battle. The bull, meanwhile, was still oblivious as to what was going on. He never budged and was intent on eating everything that bush had to offer. After what seemed like forever, I finally convinced her to take aim and shoot again. This time I was watching through my binoculars to see where she was hitting. The gun cracked again and she shot a branch off the bush right between the bull’s horns. The branch fell to the ground in front of the bull. By now he should have left, but nope. The bull bent down and began feeding on the branch that Rena had so nicely put in front of him. Both of us had no idea why her gun was shooting off – it was a mystery. Rena had just shot it at home and was driving nails with it. Well big nails, like railroad spikes. Close enough anyway. The next shot was to be held a little lower and back. By now I don’t think she was listening to a word I was saying. If this next shot didn’t connect, the bull was going free. Rena shot a lot and was pretty good with a fire arm, but something wasn’t working out here. The shot rang out across the canyon and the bull finally buckled. Now my part of the hunt was beginning. Skinning and packing was my expertise when I was on the hunt with her, although I have seen the times when she has had to gut some on her own. How many bulls will stick around that long for the hunter to get everything together?

The last few years, I haven’t been able to find the time to take Rena out elk hunting like she would like. I am involved with the TV show, “The Explorer’s Big Game Journal,” and it takes a lot of time to produce enough shows to fill the bill. I am gone a lot. This year she asked me if we could plan an elk hunt with just the two of us and no cameras around. After making our plans of where and how we were going to hunt this time, we loaded up the horses and packed in to where other hunters might not be. This particular spot was another of Rena’s favorites. She had taken other bulls in this same area, and she was sure she could do it again. We loaded the horses with enough gear to stay a few days. We walked in about three and a half miles, leading our pack animals, to where we made camp and got ready for the short evening hunt we had left before dark. We decided to hunt the clearing next to camp, since we didn’t have time enough to go anywhere else. This area is one of the few areas I know of where we have never seen or run into any other hunters. So far, it was a good secret place. Most of the time when you find a secret spot like this one, even the elk don’t know about it; however, this place was different. Rena and I headed down a little ridge and were just going to check it out for sign. I was in front as we came around a corner and there, right in front of me, was a huge 6×6 bull - only 20 yards in front of us. I instantly assumed my role and quietly let her know of the situation. I looked back at her to make sure she saw the bull. Her gloves were already coming off, and her gun was up and as steady as a rock. She was preparing for the shot off-hand. For some odd reason, that bull will probably be bigger next year. Heading back to camp, we talked about how easy that one would have been to get out and about how big he was. This had been one of those times when you wished that you could do it all over again.

The next morning, Rena and I left camp a little later than normal and arrived at our spot only to find that the elk had already had breakfast without us and left for their midday nap. So, we also went back to camp, had our midday nap and waited for the evening hunt. While we were waiting, we saddled up the horses and rode down the canyon two miles to another good area to sit and watch. Elk sign was everywhere and it smelled like a barnyard. We just knew it wouldn’t be long before things started to happen.

As the evening drew on, Rena started to get a little cold and we decided to walk up the hill and look into another canyon. We didn’t find anything in that canyon either, so we decided to get back on the horses and head back towards camp. Maybe that last clearing was where the elk were tonight. We rode up to within thirty yards of the clearing, tied the horses up just out of sight, and slowly snuck over to the edge. As I peeked over the ridge, I noticed the blond-sided body of an elk and instantly knew that it was a bull. I threw up my binoculars and, sure enough, it was a nice 5×5. I was a little wiser now and had mellowed out somewhat. I slowly nudged Rena over so that she too could see the bull and just shoot off-hand. The bull was less than 100 yards away and was ready to go into the woods and out of sight. Well, that’s what they always do to me, but we are talking Rena here. A little quartering away and the bull was perfect for her to shoot. On this hunt, Rena was shooting a 300 WSM and had practiced enough to place them right in there. The first shot rang out. The bull never moved. He calmly looked around, as there were now several cows running which we hadn’t seen before. I calmly advised Rena to put another one in him. The second shot bellowed out as the bull moved forward almost ten feet and presented her with a perfect broadside shot. I clued her in on just lying down on the ground and taking a good steady shot in the prone position. The third shot rang out and this time the bull went half-way down. No, not down the canyon, but to his knees. Regaining a little, he came back up and lunged to the top of the ridge and stood in the only flat spot on the whole hillside. If the bull went any further down the canyon, he was going to be a tough one to get out. The last shot put him down and I was relieved of anxiety that you can’t imagine. My horses are good in rough country, but I am getting older, and there just aren’t that many flat spots left in this world.

As we prepared the elk for the pack out, I was amazed to find that Rena had hit him with all four shots. We got the elk out pretty easy with the horses and back to camp. The hunt ended up being a great outing. I was very proud to have a wife that would go out and enjoy the same things I do, pitch in and get the job done. Rena doesn’t worry about how cold it is at night, sleeping on the hard ground, or wish for the luxuries of home. She just appreciates the fact she can be in the wilderness and enjoy what God has created for us to live in and the great beauty of the mountains and animals that live with us. I have been blessed with something that every man wishes for, a great wife that will share with me the outdoors and, more importantly, when I do go by myself, I get no slack about it. I wish all of you other hunters were as lucky as I am - or is it Rena’s luck again? We both wish you the best of luck in your hunting adventures.

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