Wyoming Elk Hunt - long post

[Fisher-Price]

This is my first try at writing anything. The first post was geared towards Facebook to update our families, the second was to record this special hunt. We were with John Winter at Two Ocean Pass Outfitters, I cannot recommend them highly enough.
Elk Hunt 2016
Sightseeing before the Hunt:
The last 3 days with Byrd Grady have been amazing. Yellowstone & Grand Teton Parks, Bridger-Teton & Targhee Forests, Yellowstone, Green, & Snake Rivers, Old Faithful, Hayden's Valley, Jackson Hole, the Wyoming & Wind River Ranges. Can't you just imagine what Rendezvous was like on the Green River? These are places that I have read and dreamed about since I was boy in the library at Seven Springs Elementary. Seeing the land that Jim Bridger, Jedediah Smith, John Colter, Hugh Glass, Jeremiah Johnson, & Kit Carson walked. The green of the Lodge pole Pines, the smell of the Fir, the deeper darker green of the Spruce, golden leaves on the Cottonwood trees, vibrant gold of the Quaking Aspen and hearing them rustle. Seeing geysers of steaming boiling water, hearing the chuff of molten rock and knowing that mighty forces are at work under your feet, cascading waterfalls, alpine lakes of clear water, granite peaks reaching for the sky. Blue green hues of miles of sage. Elk, Bison, Mule Deer, Antelope, Otters, Skunks, Magpies, Ravens, Red Tailed Hawks & Golden Eagles floating on the currents. These pictures cannot come close to giving the depth, height & magnificence of God's creation. I wish I had better words, I'm blessed beyond measure to enjoy all of this. Byrd and I will be saddling up in the morning and riding into the Two Ocean Pass country to live and hunt just like Teddy Roosevelt did over a hundred years ago. 8 days of no phones and electricity, we are very excited little boys. I hope to share more adventures...That is...IF we decide to come back...
The Hunt:
Byrd and I arrive at the trail head to meet John the Outfitter, he is 73 and tough as they come. Phones went out of service 45 minutes back down the road. We meet, Bart, Bernie & Tyler the guides, Caitlyn the cook, (a real cowgirl, she grew up on a Ranch) Jeff the Camp Jack and the other hunters Al & Becky his wife from da U.P. and John from Nevada. Gear is unloaded and sorted and Bernie starts weighing loads to pack on the mules. They have to weigh the same on each side to balance the load. Loading and tying the loads on a pack saddle is an art in itself. Saddles are adjusted for each rider, you use the same saddle all week but will have different mounts as they rotate through work days. Rifles are checked and in the scabbards they go.
Caitlyn leads the hunters out of camp for the 6 hour ride into the back country of the Bridger-Teton National Forest. John and the guides will follow with the pack string of 12 or so mules shortly. We head through the trees and start climbing up to cross a steep ridge swinging a hard left, you have to swing hard left, there is nothing in front of the ridge crest but thin air, and we are now on an eyebrow trail following just below the ridge top, you can hear the creek 200 feet below while you are hoping this critter you are sitting on wants to stay on the trail. The ride in is spectacular, forests, streams, small waterfalls, mountain vistas, small ponds, wildlife and beautiful meadows from a few acres to hundreds of acres. We follow rushing creeks, cut back and forth doing switchbacks as we climb mountain sides stopping every few hundred feet to give the horses a breather. A burn from two years ago gives stark contrast as the blackened trunks stand upright amidst the surrounding forest. The leaves are at their peak of gold, aspens up the mountain sides with their riot of color against the evergreens and granite, willows along the creeks. It’s mostly overcast and begins to rain soon after the 15 minute lunch break half way to camp. Slickers or raincoats are untied from behind the saddles and we don them as we ride, no stopping and dismounting for clothing changes. The horses occasionally drink as we ford creeks.
The rain stops by the time we reach camp, home for the next 8 days. The Wyoming crew jumps off their horses and the rest of us kind of ease down and walk a little funny for about 10 minutes. Better get used to it, three or four hours will be spent in the saddle every day, much of it before and after dark. Camp is at 8000 feet. The mules are brought up, loads are untied, rain covers pulled from the panniers, lash cinches and ropes have to be coiled a certain way and hung up, pack saddle covers are stacked, and then lastly the pack saddles are removed and stored in the tack tent. Ron and Bob were already in camp and have supper going, ham & bean stew.
Caitlyn will take over the cooking for the rest of the time. Suppers are steaks, pork chops, some of the best meat loaf I have ever eaten and I don’t like most, a whole roasted turkey, grilled elk tenderloins, potato soup, elk stir fry with peppers onions & potatoes, barbecue chicken, salads, corn, mashed potatoes, string beans, baked beans, chocolate cake, apple crisp with an oatmeal crust, carrot cake, German chocolate cake, Oreo cheesecake, peach cobbler, all made fresh each day. Breakfasts are bacon, sausages, gravy and biscuits, pancakes, French toast, & eggs, it always ready by 5:30 a.m. earlier if a guide wants to leave extra early. Lunch is a sandwich and a snack bag packed in paper sacks.
We are bedded down on our cots by 8:15 the first night, wake up to a below freezing morning, I sure am happy to have a good warm sleeping bag. Roll out about 4:45 a.m. After breakfast, turn on your headlamp, grab your lunch, fill your water bottles, get your backpack on, get your rifle from the rack and go find your saddle. You won’t know which horse, look for your saddle. Mount up, turn your lamps off, it blinds the horses, and head for the trail in the dark. Bart is our guide. He didn’t have any choice about being a cowboy, when your Mama names you Bart you got to be a cowboy!
Tuesday morning we work our way up the trail headed for “Third Crick”, creeks are nonexistent in Wyoming. The sky begins to lighten and we start working our way up a mountainside. The Yellowstone fires of 1988 are still very much in evidence, almost 800,000 acres destroyed. Thousands of dead trees are still standing and 28 years later most of them that have blown down are still solid, timber doesn’t rot up here. Mother Nature is slowly replenishing and renewing herself. The horses pick their way through the downed timber, stepping over, around, and in between trees and logs, places you did not think they could go without breaking a leg. At last after scrambling in and out of a gulley with a rushing creek in the bottom we are high as they can go. We tie them up adjust our packs grab our rifles and follow Bart we are just going up a little ways over “there”. As we round the first ledge we can smell where the Elk have been. Tracks and other “evidence” are everywhere. We slowly work up our way up the canyon for the next few hours listening and looking. The wind is strong that day. We take a break so the Elk in Canada 350 miles north of us can’t hear Byrd and me trying to catch our breath, us being used to living 10,000 feet lower. We see five Mule Deer on the canyon wall opposite, they slowly graze out of sight. No Elk are seen or heard this day, and we begin the trek back down to the horses. A tree has fallen and wedged in between the two trees Bart’s horse is tied to. All the knots are pulled tight and pine, fir and spruce needles and twigs are all over the horses. Lucky for us the knots held. We ride back into camp about 6:30 that evening.
Upon reaching camp each evening, packs and pockets are emptied, every bag, napkin, wrapper and crumb goes into the fire, nothing for Mr. Grizz to smell can be left anywhere. All the food in camp is stored up in the Bear Cashe, a wooden platform 15 above the ground. The herd is wrangled each morning and evening, which means the animals that had the day off are rounded up and brought into the corrals. They are let out to scatter and graze during the night and day, they wander a mile or two from camp in each direction, the leaders have bells on to help in locating them and also to signal the followers where they are. Animals are tended to, replacing shoes that have been lost, John picks out tomorrow’s mounts. Horses to be used the next day are picketed in the meadow to graze during the night. That way they can be easily found at 4:00 a.m. the next morning. After supper the campfire talk lasts no longer than 30 minutes, everyone is off to bed. The stars are so bright, vivid, twinkling and display many more colors at this altitude due to no humidity or electric light interference. The Milky Way is so visible it looks like clouds from horizon to horizon. Off to bed and slip into sleep with the sights and wonders of the day in your mind and the hopes of tomorrow while listening to the bell mares slowly drifting and grazing away from camp.
Jay Crick is our destination for Wednesday. We hear Elk bugling as we make our way deeper in. We are slowly walking along, suddenly Bart jumps off his horse and motions me up. A couple of bulls are down by the crick below us to the right. I do a double black flip off my horse and land with my rifle in my hand, (That’s what I remember anyhow). I take a rest on my knee, they disappear into the timber before I can steady down enough to take a shot. We look up to the left and a cow is watching from about 800 yards up on a ledge, another bull follows her and they head into the timber. We pull the horses back and make our way around the base of the Timber hoping to get there before the Elk cross up high. We wait about 45 minutes, either we didn’t get there in time or they have bedded in the Timber for the day. We mount up and push further into the canyon for the mid-day break. We tie up and spend a few hours looking, napping, snacking, and waiting for them to get up and move in the afternoon. Bart has an eagle eye, we spot a cow in a little ½ acre meadow above a waterfall, and a bull is chasing her. We leave Byrd to watch the elk as we try a stalk uphill. Everything in the Wind Rivers seems to be uphill both ways. It’s a low percentage stalk due to the terrain but we try it. No luck, Byrd signaled that they had moved away from us into the timber. Heading back to camp we spot a Grizzly going the same direction as we are on the opposite side of the creek. As our paths continue to an inevitable intersection the guide stands in his stirrups and starts yelling “HEY BEAR!!! HEY BEAR!!! GET OUT OF HERE!!!” the bear is about 200 yards away. Mr. Grizz stands straight up, finally sees us, looks for a few seconds and then turns and lopes up into the timber away from us. I think Byrd wanted to go pet him, I’m satisfied with the 200 yard distance.
Rain begins as we go to bed. After breakfast Thursday morning we wait for daylight. Weather is socked in, no visibility and rain so we hang in camp. The weather breaks around 1:00, back in the saddle. Bart is easing out from the Timber on Jay Crick where we had seen the 1st bull and cow the previous morning. I am staying back in case they are still there. Bart pulls up suddenly and we dismount slowly, “Elk don’t know how many feet a horse has” Bart decides Byrd’s movie wisdom from Bear Claw Chris Lapp’s advice to Jeremiah Johnson might just pay off. The bull has not seen us and is moving slow, we get back in the trees tie up, and move around the copse and pull to the edge of the other opening. We don’t see him so we sneak out a little further to get a clearer view upslope. Bart tells me to chamber a round, get my sticks set up and try to get comfortable. He ranges a rock at about 250 yards. We wait about 20 minutes, I have to shift my knees a couple of times, Rocky Mountain meadows have lots of rocks… Byrd is the first to spot the Bull as he steps out of the timber above a rock slide much further up than we expected. I take aim, steady down, exhale slowly and touch one off, the report booms off the mountain behind the bull and he doesn’t know where it came from, I rack the bolt and shoot again, the bull still doesn’t move, I rack my 3rd and last round in the rifle, take another sight and press (just kidding, I mashed it) the trigger. I have been calm and confident even though I have shot twice already, the bull crumples and crashes out sight down the slide into the timber. I reload, and Bart ranges the ledge where the bull was standing. Bart soon pulls way ahead of me and Byrd headed up, excitement can’t get you any extra oxygen but we eventually make it stopping several times and breathing hard. Bart has found the bull and he’s down for good. We take a look, a nice 6x6 bull. Upon closer examination we see one through the shoulder that put him down, one a little further back through the lungs, and one a little lower. Bart grins at me and Byrd and says “three shots uphill, on your knees, at 367 yards, that is some fine shooting”! Bart begins quartering out the Elk and getting the loins and back straps, its messy process because of the steep slope, we slide and work, slide and work. We finally get him dressed over about 60 feet of mountainside. We get the meat away from the carcass hoping the Grizzlies will go for the carcass instead of the meat, help cut the knees away and head for camp. I have broken the ice and hope the other two hunters and Byrd will get a bull.
We have tried to be helpful with picketing the horses, loading mules, unpacking, tending fires, dressing the elk, etc. John comes up to us and thanks us for helping Bart with the Elk, and helping around camp. He says “You know, I like taking country folks hunting, you always lend a hand and help out”. I couldn’t ask for a better compliment. Friday morning breakfast is still at 5:30 but we don’t leave camp until after light so that we will have plenty of visibility in case there is a bear on the meat. John asks Byrd if his saddle and stirrups have been comfortable. He explains how you know. “If your knees hurt, your stirrups are too short, if your hind-end hurts your stirrups are too long, if your knees and your butt both hurt, your stirrups are perfect”! With that advice we head out, John leads the way with two pack mules followed by Bart, then Byrd and I am riding drag with the bear spray…A 12 gauge pump with an 18 inch barrel. Not 300 yards from camp a sow grizzly with a cub runs across the trail right in front of John, Bart spins his blue roan mare and chases them into the meadow yelling. I’m in the back and watching the bears run across the meadow and do not realize that everyone else has gone up into the trees further down the trail. The sow stands up, looks around, spots me and Taffy and charges straight back towards us. Before I can decide what to do Taffy breaks the world record for the opening ¼ mile in the Kentucky Derby and we crash into the back of the pack train and we all haul down the trail a bit. I don’t know where the sow pulled up, we never saw her again. Glad I was wearing brown pants that day! The Elk has not been bothered, the mules are packed and John leaves for the trail head with the meat. We hunt unsuccessfully the rest of the day. The other two hunters got Elk at the same time, Al shot the herd bull and John (the hunter) shot a small fork horn.
Friday night the rain comes back in and we go to sleep listening to it. Sometime after midnight it gets quiet so I think the rain has stopped, nope, it has turned soft & white. About 4:00 a.m. we hear a crash, a tree has fallen on Caitlyn’s tent and stopped about 2 feet from the floor and 6 inches over her face. She crawls out on her hands and knees unharmed. Caitlyn has breakfast ready at 5:30, despite her crushed tent. We cut up the tree with hand saws, put her tent back up, and replaced the corner pole that collapsed on our tent making a post from the fallen tree. We go inside all the tents and hit the undersides to make the snow slide off, we do this every couple of hours.
Saturday afternoon we think the weather is breaking so we put on our heavier snow/rain gear and head out again. Heard a few distant bugles but nothing close enough to stalk. A grizzly has used our trail for about 3 miles but we never caught up with him. We did watch a coyote padding through the meadow pounce and come up with a chipmunk for an afternoon snack. The weather didn’t break and we mostly huddled around some trees, glassing for elk and listening to it sleeting on our clothes. Getting close to dark, back to the horses, sweep the ice out of the saddle and head for camp.
Sunday is the last hunting day and you only get until early afternoon since there isn’t time to go back and pack the elk out the next day. I follow Bart & Byrd and try to take it all in and enjoy every minute of the time we have left while praying hard Byrd is successful. He isn’t this trip but the sun came out and we saw some beautiful country clad in snow. Ever follow a horse through frozen willows? When the willow springs back the snow snaps loose and pulverizes into the air making millions of miniscule ice powder crystals that sparkle and shimmer in the sunrise. We rode in a ways and saw a few Elk way up high, we rode on a little further up Jay Crick and tied up the horses. We heard a bull bugling so we tried a stalk. We got about ½ way up the slope and tried to get comfortable, that bull was talking to us the whole time. Bart had called him to the edge of the trees about 200 yards up hill but he never showed himself. Finally he started sounding further away still bugling and answering all the while. They must have winded us or he was afraid to leave the cows he already had. We did have an updraft going past us up the West side where we heard him. About an hour later we saw 7 cows and 4 calves moving quickly back from where the bull had sounded like he was going. The bull came through next to last with a Young spike following. Some of the cows looked down towards us. We speculate they winded us, took off up the box canyon and couldn’t get out, turned back and hurried back past us on the high trail that only they can use. They were probably ¾ of mile traveling right under vertical granite slabs at the very top of the mountain. It was a good hunt but we couldn’t get into position.
That last afternoon Jeff, the Camp Jack took us on a hike to see the Parting of the Waters. Two Ocean Creek splits on the continental divide there and flows into Pacific Creek and the Pacific Ocean 1,353 miles away and Atlantic Creek and the Atlantic Ocean 3,488 miles away.
Byrd kept me and everybody else in camp entertained as he always does. One morning at the breakfast table he comments “You know, I don’t reckon an Elk can stand up on level ground”! Many more stories I can share in person when I see some of ya’ll. Most of what we saw has to be experienced, you can’t capture it on camera, you certainly don’t have time to get the camera out, and you need to live in the moment so that you can treasure the memories. I am so thankful to have gone to Wyoming once again with one of my very best friends, Byrd Grady. I want to thank both our families for their love and support while we were gone. We had an Old Elk Hunter watching over us. I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to take his rifle, which now belongs to me, back to the country he loved, and use it as I watched him do the last time we three were out here together.

[jnyork]

What a great story, put us right there with you.

Now you know why we live in Wyoming.

[boolitshooter]

Excellent write-up. You are right, you must seize each and every moment in the back country while you are there.

[Blaine]

Wonderful write up. I felt like I was there with you. Thanks for posting, and the pics....

[Griff]

Wonderful write up. I felt like I was there with you. Thanks for posting, and the pics....

+1.

[jkbrea]

Awesome hunt. Congrats on a nice bull.
I'm headed to Wyoming next week with a cow tag. Can't wait.

[ollogger]

Awesome Story!! Glad all went well & Wyoming showed you some of its best!!




ollogger

[marlinman93]

Really enjoyed your narrative of the elk hunt! Very nicely written!
We have our elk hunt here in NE Oregon starting Nov. 5th. Hope to get a chance for a shot with the old Remington Hepburn I rebuilt in .45-70 caliber.

[GunnyMack]

GREAT STORY! As I was reading that same line from Jerimiah Johnson was going thru my head! But then again every time I see an elk that goes thru my mind!

Im drooling for elk back straps now!

[Fisher-Price]

Thanks guys!

I wrote it to not only remember everything but also to explain to many of my friends and family what happens on a wilderness hunt. I have even had people accuse me of making up that our phones didn't work out there. They think you get out of the truck ride the horse 2 miles and pretend to camp and hunt and there is electricity and showers just a few minutes away and that there are 4-wheelers in camp to use. I am from a rural area but most people seem to have lost touch with the outdoors. I get questions about was the deer bigger than they are here and couldn't I just shoot a deer here. How many moose did I shoot, why didn't we shoot 4 or 5 since we went all that way, what do I mean that we saw some and didn't shoot them. It amazes me that people do not even know the difference between a whitetail, an elk and a moose.

BTW I was shooting a 1965 Model 70 in .300 Win Mag, 200 gr Accubonds with 76 grains of H1000. The 65 was the first year of the "bad ones" but it is the most accurate bolt rifle I have. Dad picked it up in a pawn shop around 1987 or 1988 for $300 I think. I shoot my hand loads but he bought a box of whatever Federal Premium loads were made of at the time he got the rifle and put 3 shots at 200 yards into one ragged hole that you can cover with a dime.

I'm glad you folks enjoyed it.

Fisher-Price

[Camel73]

Good job on the write up, I enjoy detailed writings very much. Good memories for you.

[SargeMarlin]

Congrats on the successful hunt.

[M. M. Wright]

Thanks so much for the story. Well written. A pack trip I took in 1965 on the Kaibab Plateau is still one my most treasured memories. Too old now and the knees and hips are gone but I love reading about it.

[.45colt]

One of My Dream Hunts, may never happen, Congratulations on some fine shooting. Thank You for the awesome report. made My Day.

[horsesoldier03]

Enjoyed your post!

[Tycer]

Oh my.

[Meeteetse]

Thanks, makes me homesick

[vancelw]

Wonderful write up. I felt like I was there with you. Thanks for posting, and the pics....

+1.

+1 again. I'll go someday...

The Yellowstone fires of 1988 are still very much in evidence, almost 800,000 acres destroyed

They weren't destroyed. ..they were reborn !
Yellowstone Park is more beautiful than it was when I was a kid.