Back in September I bought an archery elk tag and for three straight weekends wandered out into the woods in search of these elusive creatures. The first two weekends were very unsuccessful. I battled the elements and left the woods with only a huge appetite and a tired body. I only saw a few signs, and no animals. The last weekend of the season was better. I drove up the very bumpy, tight, and slightly snowed on Lewis Creek road to the base of Eagle pass between Lewis and Silver mountains. Here, at the parking area, I met a fellow who had his camp setup out of his old Toyota pickup. A very interesting fellow, he was. He was getting his gear ready and putting on black face paint. He seemed extremely old school by the looks of his garments, and the way he spoke, yet, I could tell he knew a lot more about hunting Elk with a bow than I did. He was wanting to know my plans, so that he could keep a distance from me so we could avoid making calls to each other and not spook each other’s animals. We wished each other good luck, I mounted my backpack, and off I went, trudging through the 4-6″ of fresh snow that had fallen that morning.

The signs were more abundant, and I could even hear some bulls bugling in the vicinity. The terrain just felt more like Elk habitat, and the fact that it was so hard to get to had my spirits high that I would at least see something if not have the chance to let loose an arrow. I spent Friday getting my base camp set up and scouting a good place to hunt. The signs were ok, but I felt I could find a better place. After combing several different ridges and valleys until sunset, I decided to get back to camp, eat some dinner, and hit the hay in 20 degree temps.

I don’t know if it was the altitude, the cold, or the hard effort from the day before, but, the next morning I just couldn’t get myself out of bed at sunrise to start the hunt. My body needed rest, and so I slept in a little. My instinct told me the elk were over on Wild Oat Mesa, a good 4-5 miles away on very rugged terrain. I had to make a decision whether to make it a day hike and return to my base camp, or pack a mini camp with me and rough it up on the mesa. I decided to go the latter route and took only the bare necessities with me along with my bivy and sleeping bag strapped to my day pack. I started out on my hike with my senses on full alert for any animals because it was still morning time. I was contouring around one of several ridges that I would have to cross this very day. I happened to look downhill a little bit, and there he was, the man in the woods, the same guy I had met at the parking area the morning before.  I honestly can’t believe I saw him, for one, there is a huge amount of wide open wilderness out there and for two men to randomly come across one another at the same moment in time isn’t likely, but also, he was extremely well camouflaged and standing as still as tree. In fact, I thought he was a tree upon first glance. He was so still and focused, that I feared he was locked on to an elk and had just scared it away. I gave him a slight “pssst” to which he gave me a slight acknowledgement. After a few more seconds, he kind of whispered loudly, “I got an arrow in one. I’ve tracked the blood trail to this point and I’ve been looking for him all morning. I was super excited for him, and also for me, because that meant I was in a good spot!

He motioned for me to come down to him and have a talk. He was hunting with a very burly old school long bow-just as much a piece of art as it was a weapon. His camo was anything but the modern mossy oak or real tree stuff you see gung-ho hunters wearing these days, yet, he blended into the environment much better than anything I had ever seen before. He wore a mixture of old army camo, wool, a black hunting pack, and used black facepaint. It was so simple, yet so effective. We spoke in a low whisper about his situation. He knew his shot was questionable, most likely out of the kill zone, and not very good penetration. “He’ll probably just shrug this one off” he said. I told him I was heading over towards Wild Oat, and that if I saw his bull in the next few minutes that I would let out three quick cow calls. I bid the Man in the Woods farewell once more and continued my journey. I was really hoping to see that bull on the ground, but didn’t.

I spend the rest of the day criss crossing lots of rugged mountain terrain, all the time, the signs got better and better. I found a place close to the top of Wild Oat mesa that was full of fresh signs and knew this would be my hunting spot for the morning. I still had a few hours of light left so I continued south down to the mesa where I found a really nice saddle separating the mesa from the area I would hunt in the morning. I decided to wander down the mesa a little and set up my mini camp for the night, before returning to that saddle to wait out the night. After stalking the saddle for a while, I heard a bull let out a big bugle to the south of me in the direction I had just set up my camp. I sent out a cow call to entice him in my direction. He never spoke back, but I should have still taken that first call as a sign to head back to my camp a bit more carefully. While en route to my camp a few minutes after sunset, I spotted this monster of a bull at 70 yards or so. I tried to quickly take cover behind a tree, but it was too late, I had spooked him and he was gone. My best chance of the entire season, I and blew it. Nonetheless, I knew elk were in the area, I would just have to endure a night of temps in the teens and try to find them at daybreak.

The next morning I got up early, packed up camp and header over to my secret spot. I waited there for quite some time, but nothing came by, plus, I could hear bugles coming from the direction that my base camp was in, so I decided to start heading back and see what I could find. The rest of the day I began finding fresh tracks, fresh poo, and lots of communication. I was hot on the heels of one or two bulls but I just couldn’t keep up with, despite my efforts to call them to me with my cow mew. I eventually had to call it a day, get back to my base camp, pack it up, and hike back over the pass and down to the car, which I was barely able to do before sunset. The result of this trip was much the same as the others: no meat and a very tired and hungry body. However, I learned a lot from this trip. Even though my encounter with the Man in the Woods was brief, I felt like he taught me some very important lessons. Not only this, he inspired me to go out and buy a long bow. I’ve been practicing diligently this fall and getting pretty decent at it. I don’t even shoot my compound anymore, and wonder if I’ll ever go back to it. Who knows?

Any how, this Man in the Woods has just been on my mind a lot lately. I hope that someday I can be as skilled and as awesome as he is. Perhaps someday, we shall meet again, and I hope we do.