Title: Elk Hunting
Category: Hunting
Blog Entry: As the morning darkness, slowly turns light, I find myself at peace. I am sitting on a hillside, slowly glassing for elk, the comfortable weight of my rifle across my knees. I hear birds waking up and starting to make noise, the rustle of leaves as chipmunks and squirrels start running around. My brother nudges me, and whispers, look left. I slowly swing my binos to the left, and there are 3 does and a 3x3 buck, 150 yards away. They are slowly working towards the christmas trees, heading to their beds. Then from below us, we hear a cow bark. A limb cracks, and the elk start coming up the hill heading towards the timber. I shoulder my rifle, and watch the lead cow come into view. Then a calf, 5 more cows, and a spike bull. I keep my rifle up, because I know the big bull will be last. Suddenly my scope is filled with antler tips, as the big bull walks into view. I click off the safety, and wait for the clear shot. All of a sudden, I can not see the elk anymore, the fog rolled back in and is taunting me. The fog is swirling, back and forth, I can just make out an elk where the bull was located, but can no longer see antlers. Suddenly the fog lifts again, as if to say, "ok, I have teased you enough". The elk are still there, they have started to feed on the hillside, 300 yards away. The bull puts his head down and grabs a mouth full of vegetation, and turns broadside. I hear a hiss from my brother, as if to say, "are you going to shoot?". I settle the crosshairs on the bull's shoulder, I hear the boom of a gun going off, not conscious of squeezing the trigger. I see the elk stagger through my scope. He takes 5 steps and falls. Suddenly, my brother is slapping me on the back, grinning from ear to ear, as I was too. We head over to admire my elk. He is a 4x5 bull that has a heavy black mane, and super light buckskin coloring on his body. After more congratulations, my brother gets on the radio, calling in the others to help pack this beast the 4 miles back to the truck. I start the butchering process, thanking the elk for offering himself to me, to be able to feed my family this year. Every year, we go on a quest, to hunt elk, to bring home meat for the table, but more importantly to bring home memories. Memories of the smile on my brother's face, the emotions of both seeing wildlife out in the mountains, as God intended. The good natured ribbing of someone that has been skunked. It is the time spent with friends and family, the time spent hiking alone in the deep timber, watching the sun rise over the hills, feeling the snow or rain on your face, as you watch an open hillside. It is the sweat, and sore muscles from hiking up and down mountainsides looking and watching for that one elk that you feel is there just for you. Watching a chipmunk, scamper up the log and trying to find the courage to get closer to take the snack you offer it. Hunting is much more than shooting an animal, or being with buddies that you enjoy hanging with. It is something that comes from deep within you. It is natural, it is something that makes your senses that much keener. It is how things should be.
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