Charshooter
01-31-2007, 05:29 PM
It was 1956 and my first big Elk hunt. I had taken my fair share of deer and antelope since I was a pup, but now I was hunting with the men. We were in Cody Wyoming that cold Friday morning, there was something like Christmas in the air; everybody was hurrying around picking things up at stores and eating in the restaurants. My paw, uncle and cousin were out getting some last minute supplies, while I was ordering up breakfast: four eggs, double order of beacon and hash browns and a large tomato juice. Soon the other three of my party filed in amongst the crowed friendly noise, paw said,” we got that extra tent gear and some new blankets.” Uncle George said, “we are ready to go boys, all gassed up so check your gear tonight and get to bed early, we will be up by 3am.”
The rest of the day I spent walking around Cody listening to the men talk about where they were heading out to and what had happened last year. In those days, everyone interested in hunting knew the trade secrets, so no one was hiding anything. Paw, my uncle and older cousin ducked to the Silver Dollar for a few laughs, being underage, I went for a big double hamburger and a coke, I was a big lanky kid and could eat all day long and not put on a pound. Paw always having good sense was out of the bar after a few beers and we were all off the hotel.
I remember having trouble sleeping, just thinking about downing a big bull Elk! I was so excited, it would take winning the lottery today to make me feel that way!
That morning, I was up first, I could hardly sleep and was ready to get moving; my paw was cleaning off and inspecting his fine Winchester model 71, as was my uncle. “You need to save you pennies and get a gun this one for Elk son” my father looked at uncle George and said, “ that 30-06 will do the boy well with those 220 grain bullets." My cousin was still in bed, well, he was on his fourth hunt; starting about the age I was at that time.
We headed of in out two trucks pulling the horses behind. Once we reached the end of the rancher’s road we checked in at his house, he was an older man who knew my grandfather, he was already up waiting for use. We boys unloaded the horses and tried to avoid the light from our lanterns so our eyes would stay accustomed to the dark. We saddled the horses and packed the gear. It was very cold that morning, but we were too excited to care about it. Soon, paw and uncle George came out with their rifles loaded and took over while we loaded ours.
My cousin had his father’s 333 OKH; the 338 Winchester Magnum was not available at this time and he was pleased with the extra bore size. My paw told me I would do fine with what I had and not to worry.
I had dreamed about Elk hunting since I was a very small boy; hunting was my favorite sport and like many boys of my day living in Wyoming, I was taken by anything to do with hunting. I read all the popular outdoor magazines and now I was about to experience what all the men talked about, the big Elk hunt!
We started out while it was still dark, up the side of a mountain and through the deep woods, we rode until we had come to a ridge, there we demounted and walked our animals down into the steep ravine where the Elk bedded down at night. In those days, Elk were less spooked and having never heard a gasoline motor, they would not stir unless they got a whiff of our sent.
I dawn came we sat quietly in the high ground brush sipping hot coffee and waiting for the Elk to stir. I was so excited it took all my patience to remain still, I felt the cold when I inhaled, otherwise, I did not feel a chill. It was getting light and the time was coming soon when the Elk would move and if we were in the right place, we would soon find our game.
It seemed like an eternity that last half hour while I waited for my first shot. Suddenly the brush crackled and we all knew that the Elk were close by and not aware of our presence. My heart pounded as the light grew and soon I could see the small Elk heard moving down into open view.
Paw tapped my head and I knew that I should look straight ahead and focus. Then it came into view, a big bull Elk, it looked majestic and as I watched it, I placed my rifle to shoot, focused and pulled the trigger! The next thing I knew was the Elk went down and the heard scattered. The bull felt and struggled to stand again, my father was following him with his rifle and when the Elk fell again, we moved in. It was only then I realized I had been cold and hungry, but now I had to take the Elk and field dress it, there was no time for feeling anything but motivation to get the job done. While my cousin and I worked the Elk, my uncle lit his first cigar and started to talk.
I can’t remember what he and paw were talking about, but I knew paw was proud of me! I wish I could say it was a big record Elk, in fact, it was a smaller one, but for me, it was the biggest beast in the world! That hunt my cousin killed a nice Elk, about the same size as the one I took and we both talked up a storm once we were back in town. All the older men were slapping us on the back and I could see that my father was bragging a little, now that his first son had come of age.
I have shot many larger Elk since and taken Moose, Bear and African game, but nothing would seem as big and as much a challenge won as that day back in 56.
The rest of the day I spent walking around Cody listening to the men talk about where they were heading out to and what had happened last year. In those days, everyone interested in hunting knew the trade secrets, so no one was hiding anything. Paw, my uncle and older cousin ducked to the Silver Dollar for a few laughs, being underage, I went for a big double hamburger and a coke, I was a big lanky kid and could eat all day long and not put on a pound. Paw always having good sense was out of the bar after a few beers and we were all off the hotel.
I remember having trouble sleeping, just thinking about downing a big bull Elk! I was so excited, it would take winning the lottery today to make me feel that way!
That morning, I was up first, I could hardly sleep and was ready to get moving; my paw was cleaning off and inspecting his fine Winchester model 71, as was my uncle. “You need to save you pennies and get a gun this one for Elk son” my father looked at uncle George and said, “ that 30-06 will do the boy well with those 220 grain bullets." My cousin was still in bed, well, he was on his fourth hunt; starting about the age I was at that time.
We headed of in out two trucks pulling the horses behind. Once we reached the end of the rancher’s road we checked in at his house, he was an older man who knew my grandfather, he was already up waiting for use. We boys unloaded the horses and tried to avoid the light from our lanterns so our eyes would stay accustomed to the dark. We saddled the horses and packed the gear. It was very cold that morning, but we were too excited to care about it. Soon, paw and uncle George came out with their rifles loaded and took over while we loaded ours.
My cousin had his father’s 333 OKH; the 338 Winchester Magnum was not available at this time and he was pleased with the extra bore size. My paw told me I would do fine with what I had and not to worry.
I had dreamed about Elk hunting since I was a very small boy; hunting was my favorite sport and like many boys of my day living in Wyoming, I was taken by anything to do with hunting. I read all the popular outdoor magazines and now I was about to experience what all the men talked about, the big Elk hunt!
We started out while it was still dark, up the side of a mountain and through the deep woods, we rode until we had come to a ridge, there we demounted and walked our animals down into the steep ravine where the Elk bedded down at night. In those days, Elk were less spooked and having never heard a gasoline motor, they would not stir unless they got a whiff of our sent.
I dawn came we sat quietly in the high ground brush sipping hot coffee and waiting for the Elk to stir. I was so excited it took all my patience to remain still, I felt the cold when I inhaled, otherwise, I did not feel a chill. It was getting light and the time was coming soon when the Elk would move and if we were in the right place, we would soon find our game.
It seemed like an eternity that last half hour while I waited for my first shot. Suddenly the brush crackled and we all knew that the Elk were close by and not aware of our presence. My heart pounded as the light grew and soon I could see the small Elk heard moving down into open view.
Paw tapped my head and I knew that I should look straight ahead and focus. Then it came into view, a big bull Elk, it looked majestic and as I watched it, I placed my rifle to shoot, focused and pulled the trigger! The next thing I knew was the Elk went down and the heard scattered. The bull felt and struggled to stand again, my father was following him with his rifle and when the Elk fell again, we moved in. It was only then I realized I had been cold and hungry, but now I had to take the Elk and field dress it, there was no time for feeling anything but motivation to get the job done. While my cousin and I worked the Elk, my uncle lit his first cigar and started to talk.
I can’t remember what he and paw were talking about, but I knew paw was proud of me! I wish I could say it was a big record Elk, in fact, it was a smaller one, but for me, it was the biggest beast in the world! That hunt my cousin killed a nice Elk, about the same size as the one I took and we both talked up a storm once we were back in town. All the older men were slapping us on the back and I could see that my father was bragging a little, now that his first son had come of age.
I have shot many larger Elk since and taken Moose, Bear and African game, but nothing would seem as big and as much a challenge won as that day back in 56.