To hunt the majestic elk herds of the western mountains has to be one of the most magical hunts in this country. This story is about a once-in-a-lifetime hunt for elk, but it does not take place anywhere near the mountains, but on the great plains of Nebraska. Growing up in southwest Nebraska, hunting mule deer and whitetails was commonplace, but elk were unheard of. However, over the past 20 years or so, the Rocky Mountain elk have moved back into the Cornhusker State.
There are now small herds spread all across western Nebraska with several limited draw hunting units. To draw one of these coveted tags is hard, to say the least, and it is a once-in-a-lifetime tag. In 2015, my cousin, Clark, was the first of my hunting friends to draw this tag and I was fortunate enough to guide him to a great 8x7, 360” bull. After the 2017 summer draw, I was informed by my longtime friend, Josh, that he had also drawn the tag, so the scouting began.
I planned on hunting the same farm as we did two years ago as there are always great bulls in this herd. I set trail cameras out in July and immediately started receiving elk photos. The crazy part about hunting elk in central Nebraska is that they basically live in the cornfields, believe it or not. There is a canyon system full of cedar trees about a mile off the cornfields that they split their time in, but the farmland is where it’s at once it comes time to hunt. It wasn’t until about the end of August during the pre-rut that I started getting herd bull photos on the trail cams, but it didn’t take long to see that we had several really great bulls on the property. Our Nebraska elk are some of the biggest elk in the country. With limited hunting pressure, the elk can live full lives and they are on full feed in these corn fields, so 1,200+ pound elk or not uncommon.
Nebraska has an archery season that opens a couple weeks before the general rifle season, so we took advantage of the extra hunt time. Josh is not a bowhunter, but crossbows are legal here, and after a day of practice for Josh, we both felt confident he could get it done. The first morning was one of those magical mornings where everything worked perfect. We walked the edge of a cornfield just after legal light and had three different bulls work into us with just a couple cow calls. Each bull was bigger than the last, but they all acted like they were trying to get away from something behind them. We moved to the far edge of the field and quickly found out why. With a deep, throaty, growling bugle to our south, we both knew this was a different caliber of bull. We set up just inside the cornfield, and I gave a light bugle and he came in on a string. The bull came to 30 yards but was facing right into us. I know some guys would take this shot, but with Josh’s limited archery experience, we decided this was not the shot for us. It was excruciatingly painful to be so close to a bull that we guessed somewhere in the 380s non-typical and not have a shot. The bull had us pegged, and once he had enough, he spooked off and I was unable to stop him for a broadside shot. It was a great start to Josh’s hunt, so our hopes were now sky-high. We hunted that night and the next morning having bulls around us on every hunt, just not the right bull. With such big bulls around and this being a once-in-a-lifetime tag, we both agreed only a great bull would do. The weather turned rainy on the third day, and we decided to hang up the crossbow for a few days. We tried again the next weekend and had another encounter with a 320 class bull, but again it was just not what we were looking for. It was now time to prepare for the rifle season.
Opening day of rifle season, we duplicated the first day of archery season. We worked our way to the far edge of the same cornfield just after legal shooting light and had multiple bulls bugling out in the corn. We no more than set up than we had a young 4x4 and 6x6 come within 60 yards of us as they worked back towards the canyons. We had heard another bugle come from further south, and after about 10 minutes, he showed up pushing three cows. Even though it was still a little dark with the cloud cover that morning, we could see his huge tan body and knew it had to be a good herd bull. We waited for what seemed like an eternity for the bull to work down the field edge into range, but after about 30 minutes, the bull took his cows on a trot across the draw in the wrong direction and things began to not look good. I told Josh our only chance was to run across the same draw just north of them and hope they slowed down on top of the next hill so we could get ahead of them for the shot. My plan worked as scripted, and the bull walked right out in front of us at 250 yards. Once I knew Josh was up on the sticks and on the bull, I cow called the bull to a stop and the rest was history. The bull went about 50 yards and was down for good.
As we walked up to the bull, I couldnt help but notice the sheer size of the body. He was a 6x7 that green scored 366". The bull was aged at at least 10 years old, so he was a great animal to take out of the herd. This is a hunting memory that Josh and I will remember for a lifetime, and it is a bull that will truly last a lifetime.
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