I remember at the beginning of last summer just as the break started, my dad came into my room saying that California had posted our tags for the upcoming rifle season. I was very excited as it was my first year getting to hunt big game due to complications in past seasons. I remember walking into the office and hearing my dad say, “Kate, you got the Cache Creek junior bull elk hunt tag for this season.” I was ecstatic, and I could not wait for this hunt. My dad went back and forth for several months, going up there to scout for my hunt.
One of the coolest aspects of this hunt was that it began on my birthday and lasted two weeks. The day after my birthday at around 3:00 a.m., we left to head up to Cache Creek. We had loaded the horses into the horse trailer, packed sandwiches for lunch, and loaded all of our stuff into the truck. I was nervous but excited for what I knew was to come. I slept a little on the car ride there, but it was very hard to sleep with how excited I was and that I had just turned 14 the day before. When we arrived where we were going to unload the horses and began to pack in, I threw on my jacket and began to saddle up the horses. We had packed them all up, putting our lunches in the saddle bags and making sure to pack extra water, and then it was time to go. I hopped on my horse, and we rode out on our trail.
We packed in about three and a half miles before stopping to take a break at the top of a hill to eat lunch. We glassed the bottom of deep valleys and down into the creeks at the bottom of the hills, but all we saw was a smaller buck. We went up the trail a little ways more, but we only saw rabbits. We decided it was time to head back down the trail. As we were going off a steep hill, one of our horses got into bees and began to act up, which definitely slowed down our hike back because we had to walk them the rest of the way. We got back to our truck, ate some snacks, and decided it was time to head back out.
On our way back to the place we had been scouting on the left-hand side, we spotted a large bull elk, about a 6x6 with nine cows. We looked at it for a while, but not only was it broken off, it was also on private property, so we took off up the road. We decided we would check by the place we planned on camping that night. We were riding our horses on this long stretch of about a seven-mile trail, and halfway through, my parents decided to turn the horses around. I asked them why, and they said it was because the trail was burnt down the way from past fires. I said I wanted to go anyway. We made it to the end of the stretch, and I began to have a little bit of discouragement. It felt like we had checked everywhere that we could in my zone but still had not found anything.
As we were packing back down the trail, I felt discouraged, but I knew we would have to see something. Sure enough, while my mom and dad were talking, I saw straight between two mountains in a valley off to the left-hand side the elk I knew was the one I wanted. It was one of the coolest things. He was a giant 6x7 bull with 30 cows. He was definitely the herd bull, and he had pushed all other bulls out of the country. My dad had been watching him through the Swarovski spotting scope. He told me he was a giant 6x7 with tons of mass and long fourths, fifths, and sixths. He looked at me to make sure it was the one I wanted, and as soon as I nodded, he decided it was time to go.
We began to head down the hill we had been packing out on, and we crossed over a river, making sure to stay as quiet as we could. Once we got across, we crawled up a hill to a ledge and got everything together. I lay down and propped my gun up on my pack. I waited for the cows to clear. My dad looked down to tell me it was time to shoot, but I had already taken my shot when I noticed the opening. Bam! I had done it. I hit a perfect shot at 329 yards. He fell straight to the ground. I had shot him straight through the lung and the heart. I remember seeing my dad’s eyes as they filled with tears of excitement for me and my mom watching from the trail, filming the whole thing. Then I began to cry with tears of joy too. I walked to my elk while my dad ran back to the creek where my mom was to grab the horses and walk with her to my elk. I remember walking up and instantly gaining a rush of happiness from all of the adrenaline of the whole day. I had never been so proud of myself.
I sat down next to my elk as I saw my parents’ smiles. It was one of the best moments and memories I will ever have. They took turns taking pictures with me. I could never thank my parents enough for making my first hunting experience as good as it was, and I still can’t believe that the first elk I would kill would be a Tule. We didn’t get my bull quartered out and back to the trailhead until 11 p.m. It was worth every second of the hard work. This was genuinely one of the best experiences I have ever had, and I will remember it forever.
Elk Hunting California
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