The great Wapiti, more commonly called Elk, particularly Rocky Mountain Elk, is one of the largest games animals in North America. Colorado’s high rockies house the largest elk herd in the US. Despite their healthy numbers, they remain an elusive and difficult animal for hunters to track and harvest each fall, especially in the San Juan mountains outside of Durango.
Last season,I unsuccessfully stalked Wapiti with a bow off and on throughout the month of September. I only saw one animal the entire time, and walked out of the woods feeling defeated, yet having learned some important lessons. I vowed to try again next fall.
I wanted to hunt archery season again this year, but my workload and timing from running an expanding tiny house business just didn’t allow for it. I opted to buy a rifle and try my luck in 2nd rifle season instead.
My adventure began Friday evening as I was finally able to break off from work and head north out of town to establish a base camp on Old Lime Creek road close to Deer Creek. I had really wanted to get there in daylight to find a good spot, setup, and get a good nights rest. Oh well, life gets in the way sometimes. At least I had made arrangements with my employee and clients to actually take a whole week off to chase this elusive beast.
They say that game animals are most active in the early mornings and evenings. A committed hunter is willing to wake up way before sunrise to cook and eat breakfast, get packed up, and be on the trail to a spot where they think animals might before before sunrise. For me, this amounted to waking up at 5:30am every single day, a bit of a change from 7:30am. To help, I would cut up veggies, have the water pot filled with water, and have coffee grinds in the french press the night before. It didn’t take long for me to develop a routine-prep at night, sleep, morning procedure, out in the bush all day long, dinner, repeat.
Day One. I hiked the Deer Creek Drainage , zig zagged some good looking slopes, saw lots of grouse, decided to hike up to a ridge to peek into the next drainage over, and from there, decided to hike up to 12,600 foot Jura Knob to get an even better viewpoint of all my surroundings. This required some postholing in 12″ of snow on north slopes from a storm the weekend before, but the view was amazing and the information gained was valuable. I was hearing reports that the Elk were still way up high at treeline since there hadn’t been enough snow yet to push them down to lower elevations. From my most spectacular glassing point, I saw nothing but blaze orange walking around in every which direction. Lots of hunters, no animals. Time to abandon this area and look elsewhere.
Day Two. I hiked around some terrain on the east side of Lime Creek this time, going up a ways towards Andrews Lake, then south towards Crater Lake. I came across more blaze orange and some faint signs of Elk, but nothing convincing enough to keep me around. I had to cross Lime Creek barefoot at a deeper and more treacherous point south of camp (36 degree water!), but did so safely and was able to climb back up to Lime Creek Road where Rocco and I hitched a ride back to camp.
From my initial scouting, I was able to deduce that the Elk were not up high, and were not on the east side of US 550, so it was back to the drawing board. Some careful study of my maps led me to believe Elbert Creek might be a good place to find Wapiti, so I drove over there and setup a camp mid day. We had time to hike about 6 miles before sunset and rule out quite of bit of terrain that I thought would have been ideal, yet showed no signs whatsoever.
Day Three-Rocco and I set out for the Elbert Creek trail, heading west down into the Hermosa Creek drainage. We were to scope out some tributary drainages with some good north facing slopes. Our travels again presented a lot of blaze orange, this time though, from horse camp hunters that had packed in via horses from outfitters. All these folks were from out of state, and it sooned dawned on me that they were out of shape and not really good Elk hunters. This assumption only lasted another hour or so as I heard a gunshot a few drainages to the north of me where I wanted to head anyways.
After bushwacking cross country for a few hours, I finally crossed over a ridge and started to find fresh tracks and poo. I latched onto a really good trail that led me to an animal. Unfortunately, it was the animal on the business end of the shot I had heard a few hours earlier and lay dead sandwiched between two trees. I came across the carcass the same time as the guy who shot it did. It took him so long to find because he had shot it from yet another ridge 600 yards across the creek. I couldn’t believe that he had actually spotted that bull bedded down in such thick dark cover from so far away, and further more, that he actually made the shot. So, while out of state folks might be really good shots, I still believe they aren’t good high country elk hunters.
After not seeing a whole lot more following hiking around a few more hours, it was back to the truck. My logic at this point concluded that the animals were somewhere between Elbert Creek and Engineer mountain at moderate elevations on dark steep heavily wooded north facing slopes, so I found a spot on my map that met this criteria and scouted it out until it got dark, not seeing anything. From there, it was down to Haviland Lake where Laura and her dad were camping out. We cooked up the last pound of ground elk I had from last season as a token of good luck. Laura was hoping to get another bull this year following success last season.
Day Four-After a brief scouting trip around the beaver ponds in Chris Park, I decided to return to town to resupply, re-group, and check in on the business. I put in some inquiries to other friends seeing if they had seen or heard anything. My good friend Eric Ryba, who likes to help me with Tiny House woodworking projects, knew of a place north of Pagosa Springs that his buddy Joe had taken an Elk the last 2 of 3 seasons. After studying my map for a while, I concluded that this would be a good location to try out. I was itching to try some place other than the mountains around Purgatory, so off I went in a new direction. Eric wanted to go along with me for a day to get some hiking in and hopefully help pack out an animal if I got one. I stopped off in Pagosa for a hot soak, then headed up to the location where I would setup my basecamp for the next few days. I was a little disheartened upon arrival to see a slew of horse camps setup. The general rule for elk success is to find a place where there aren’t other hunters. Eric had been up just a few weeks prior without seeing anyone, so this troubled me. One of the hunters from the Oklahoma camp came by to chat since we were newcomers. He told us of all the places he had been without seeing anything. What he didn’t tell me was more encouraging than what he did though. These lowlanders weren’t fit for this terrain, even with horses. I could tell that they hadn’t gotten up to where I was planning on scouting, so I kept my resolve high and stuck to the plan.
Day Five-Eric, Rocco, and I set out from 8,100 feet early in the morning on our hike. After gaining a few thousand feet over about 3 miles, it was time to get off the trail and start exploring some Weminuche backcountry. The higher up and further off trail we got, the better and better the signs became. Lots of fresh tracks and poop. Lots of good water, grass, and cover for the animals. At four different spots we could actually smell the elk and sense their presence, going into stealth hunting mode and even sitting down for a while waiting. As strong as the scent was, we thought for sure we’d see some and eventually we did spook 3 cows, but my tag was only good for a bull, so we kept scouting. We sat through a 30 minute sleet storm under some spruce trees before deciding that daylight was waning and we had better make it back down to the car before nightfall. I hadn’t quite packed enough gear to camp out that high up, but wished I had. I set a plan to pack in a camp the next day. The signs were just too good to pass this location up. My hunch that the horse hunters had not been up to this spot was confirmed. Eric had to be back in town and couldn’t stay another night, but he was gracious enough to take Rocco back with him to Durango since I knew I would need absolute stealth and not having to worry about a dog busting my presence, so I said farewell to my friends when we got back to the car. I built a fire to cook dinner on and dry out some clothing since the days hike had taken us through some marshy and moist terrain. I swapped my field pack for the big backpack and got it situated with camping gear, food, and items I would need for the hunt and harvest.
Day Six– I got a slow start this morning since all this backcountry hiking was starting to wear my body down, but got my big pack thrown on and began the arduous hike back up to spot where I could setup a new camp. I found a nice flat spot at about 10,700 ft up, just below where the signs were really heavy that we had scouted the day before. After setting up camp and having lunch, I set out around noon to see what I could find. About an hour later, I was just strolling along and spotted a cow about 70 yards up. She spotted me too, but I was downwind, so I froze until she started going about her business. At the same time, I heard bugles, and then saw five more cows come down behind her, followed by a bull. All of sudden, there were elk everywhere just frollicking around. Little babies mewing like crazy, mommas trying to keep them in line, and at least 4 or 5 bulls strutting around. I had found the jackpot. I had never witnessed a herd like this in person so close up. It was incredible.
Being conscious of my movement and noise, I attempted to loop back around to find a spot it looked like they were moving towards. I settled in some nice cover and waited for a while but did not see anything heading my way, so I figured they had changed their minds. I ran back upslope to re-establish visual, and luckily relocated them without disclosing my presence. I found another good spot from above, settled down on a nice old log, and waited patiently. My spot was maybe 45 yards horizontal and 30 yards vertical in distance. I scoped in on a cow, then another, then two more, finally, a beautiful bull. He must have known something wasn’t quite right, because he stopped right in front of a tree, blocking the shot I needed. I stayed on him for a few minutes waiting for him to take just one step forward. When he finally did it seemed as if the gun went off without me even thinking about it. Animals were scattering everywhere amidst the echoing of a 30-06 bullet discharge. All but one. The bullet did not go where I had wanted it to, for I think my scope sighting had gotten off from so much bushwacking, plus I was quartered away a tad bit more than I wanted, but nonetheless, hit vitals it did, and dropped him. Ecstatic that I had not only found such a large herd but also had gotten a successful shot off, I ran down to the animal very quickly.
He was still alive when I got there, struggling to get up. I chambered another bullet and was prepared to fire again to end his suffering immediately, but I could tell he was slipping away quickly. There was no need to make a mess and cause any more fear for the other Wapiti that were still scattering off. I put my rifle against a tree, and laid down next to the mighty beast. I placed one hand upon his heart, and the other upon his head. I thanked him for his sacrifice and told him not to fight anymore, to just let go. He had lived a good life and his vitality would live through me for many months to come. Life gently passed from this amazing creature and the conundrum of the last few minutes turned to silence. I gave him a hug, and then I broke down. I cried like I had never cried before. It was mostly tears of abundant joy, tears of vindication. I had worked so hard and sacrificed much to be at this moment in life, I had never thought I would react like this. I’m glad there was nobody else there but me. It took a while to calm down and gain my composure once again, but when I did, I wasted no time in beginning the long task of skinning, quartering, and packing out. I had made the shot at about 1pm at about 11.200 feet up, and sunset was at 6:30. High camp was at 10,700 and half a mile away. Basecamp was at 8,100 feet and six miles away. There was no cell reception within 20 miles of where I was, so I was on my own, for the time being. I was able to get all the usable meat into four bags. There was enough time after this to ferry three of those bags back down to my high camp. The fourth would have to wait til daybreak. Upon making it to camp after the 3rd bag, I got a fire going for dinner, warmth, and celebration. To save weight, I had not brought any whiskey, tobacco, or grass, but moments like these require no such mind altering substances. I was high off life. As joyful as I was, I was also extremely exhausted and glad to crawl in my sleeping bag for the night.
Day Seven October 24, 2014
I only spell out the date for this particular day since it was my birthday. What a birthday gift God had given me. A massive beautiful creature that I now had to find a way to get back to my truck. At first light, I crawled out of bed and heated up some breakfast I had made the night before, along with some chai tea. I made another trip to the harvest site to fetch the last bag of meat before retracing my steps to high camp where I re-distributed weight so the loads would be more even before taking my first load down. Upon making it to basecamp, I was fatigued. This was a task I could handle solo, but I knew some help would be greatly appreciated. I was hopeful I would run into some folks from one of the horse camps and ask if I could borrow a horse or burro, but no one was there, or they were all packing up to go back to their respective states. Plan B, for I had thought it through on the long hike back down, was to drive until I could get cell service or make it to Sportsmans Campground down the road where there was land line.
The land line ended up being the best and quickest option where I was able to get a hold of Eric again, and he hopped in his car ASAP and met me there in about an hour and a half. We drove back to base camp and hiked up to high camp and then on to the harvest where he grabbed the hide and I grabbed the head before heading back to high camp. From there, I swapped the head for a HEAVY load of meat and Eric added a meat quarter to the hide. He had also brought Rocco back and I was able to load him up with about 20 lbs of meat. We were able to make it most of the way down before nightfall but had to hike the last 45 minutes or so in the dark. We snacked on some munchies and enjoyed a beer together before he had to head back to town. After some prep work for the next day, I crashed hard. Happy birthday, you crazy caveman.
Day Eight
After breakfast and coffee, Rocco and I headed up to high camp one last time to get the last of the meat, the rest of my gear, and the head. The load was great, but I think my body was starting to adjust to all this mountain hiking and weight bearing. We took our time, watched our footing, and were back to the car around 11am. It took a good 40 minutes to drive back to Pagosa where I stopped a little while to check 20 something voicemails, most of which were happy birthdays, then it was down into town for much deserved soak in the hippy dip. From there it was back to Durango to start the long process of unpacking, getting the meat cold, initial processing, and some R&R.
I might not have any great cycling adventures these days, for work has taken a heavy toll on my time and energy, but adventure still lives on, and great adventures they are. This one certainly has to rank as the greatest one yet. I do not regret moving to the mountains one iota. My friend Laura posted a quote the other day “A bad day hunting beats a good day at work.” Couldn’t agree more. Luckily, I had a great week of hunting, so it was that much better. Next year, I hope to revisit those sacred hunting grounds with my bow, and hope for continued success. Thanks for checking in. Thanks be to the Good Lord for a safe and fruitful journey. Lots of thanks to Eric for showing me this new spot, helping pack out, and great camaraderie. Friendships like this are invaluable. Long live the mighty Wapiti.
