The quest for a true Utah giant finally came down to a single shot opportunity after 19 straight days of patience. All of the sweat, sore muscles, miles covered, and carefully plotted strategy had finally produced an opportunity within bow range. I needed a few more minutes of light and a clear sight of his vitals to try to make it all come together. The whole journey was laced with extreme mental and physical fatigue.
When I learned that I was going to hold one of the most coveted archery tags in the state of Utah and possibly in the western U.S., I was absolutely ecstatic. The next piece to this story’s puzzle included booking guide Ryan Carter of DC Outfitters. Ryan and I had been talking through some of his hit list bulls for 2017, but we only had one specific bull in mind. Ryan had named this bull “MJ” because of his giant wingspan frame and the many trail cam pictures of years prior seemed to always catch him with his tongue out, just like Michael Jordan.
Even though I lived over a thousand miles away in North Dakota, it didn’t keep me from trying to contribute to the summer scouting season. I went down to Utah to help run the mountain, checking cameras and hanging additional cameras. Ryan and Aaron Jensen, a DC guide, worked their butts off blitzing the area with cameras in hopes of patterning our target bull. Once we had patterned the general area that MJ had been hitting, we then focused our efforts on that portion of the mountain even harder.
A week prior to the archery opener, Ryan had confidence in a specific drainage and opening on the mountain terrain to focus our efforts on opening day. Prior to the famed September rut, those late August days typically have the mature herd bulls staying solo, relatively inactive, and able to be patterned similar to whitetail. Ryan’s strategy of choice for early archery season was to tree stand hunt.
Since we were approaching this hunt with essentially only a single target, our hunt strategy was a methodically plotted military style operative mission. We knew that getting even a single chance at MJ was going to be a tall task. Our plan was to hunt him extremely conservatively, knowing that if we should happen to have a failed attempt we may very likely not be able to locate him again. We knew playing the wind safe was essential and doing everything possible to control excess scent was key in preventing MJ from evacuating the area we were focusing on.
MJ started peeling his summer velvet the day before the season opener and was on camera under my stand that very night. The amount of anticipation this produced in my soul was overwhelming. My first actual glimpse of MJ on the hoof in all his glory didn’t come until day three of the hunt. While making the one and a half mile trek in to my stand from the trailhead, I ducked under a tree limb and as I raised my headlamp up it illuminated MJ lying in the trail at 10 yards, looking at me. I watched as he stood from his bed, stretched his legs, and stared at me as if he was just as surprised to see me.
I held my bow in my hand with arrows neatly aligned in the quiver. I peered at a 421" Utah ghost that could never be mistaken for another bull. MJ was on his third season of being in excess of 370", and he had successfully evaded hunters and outfitters for years. I forced my mind into another gear as I tried to determine how to make this situation into an opportunity. I ultimately made the grueling decision to let him walk away into the morning darkness on the basis of ethics and sticking to our strategy of doing everything possible to keep from pushing him from his home turf. As I watched him lumber through the congested aspens, it was the most amazing sight I had ever witnessed in my years of hunting. At that moment, I made the decision that I would not settle for another bull, even if it meant taking an un-notched tag back to North Dakota.
After my early morning encounter, MJ disappeared for 10 days. From years of Ryan’s camera history, we knew that if we held patient, he would typically reappear in 7-10 days. After 10 days of passing up multiple 350-370" bulls, on day 13, MJ reappeared with a harem of 30+ cows. He was well out of bow range, so I sat back into my tree stand seat with my optics and camera zoom in pure awe. Most elk hunters covet the day they can witness a 400" bull bugling and working his cows, and I had a front row, downwind seat for the show. My extreme frustration of being out of shooting range was replaced by utmost appreciation for the moment I had in front of me.
The following day, I encountered MJ in full rut on the opposite corner of the large meadow from where my stand was perched. The location was difficult due to wind, changing thermals, and lack of trees to relocate my stand. Ryan and I decided to build a makeshift ground blind near the location where MJ had twice made his entrance from the timber. I gradually pieced the blind together over the course of four days, trying not to create a significant change that would be detected by observant wildlife.
I had just settled into my pine-bough blind on day 19 when a familiar bugle pierced the cool morning air, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand. MJ and four cows entered the grassy meadow in front of me under the light of the September full moon. It was light enough to confirm the giant’s presence but not legal shooting light yet. I knew it was him the moment he walked in, and he had my full attention. The cows started grazing the dew-covered meadow while MJ drank and wallowed in the stream at 58 yards. He lay in that wallow for a painful 25 minutes while his cows fed to within 30 yards of my pine masquerade. When he finally stood, I knew that my long-awaited opportunity was about to present itself. I had practiced drawing my bow from my sitting position, trying to create muscle memory. I was worried about the height needed for my arrow to clear the brush of my camouflaged blind. Months’ worth of homework by Ryan and nearly three weeks of patience on my part had led to this moment.
MJ circled his cows to push them back in the direction they had entered. As he paused to stretch out his neck and give one last familiar bugle, I released my arrow. I could hear my arrow clip a limb of the blind as it exited my bow. It hit MJ with perfect height but about three ribs back from its intended mark tight to the shoulder. I was confident that the pass-through shot would be lethal but did not know the time needed to expire due to a less than desired shot placement. I had been hunting alone, so I came down the mountain in search of cell service. As quickly as I could get the words out, I let Ryan know what had taken place. With the shot placement, I also wanted to let him know that help may be needed to locate this bull-of-a-lifetime in the mountain jungle MJ had called home for 10 1/2 years.
With the help of Ryan, several friends, and many prayers, we located MJ a few hundred yards from where he had last bugled. As Ryan and I walked up on our fallen giant, it was truly an emotional discharge that words cannot express. It was an adventure that I hope I will never forget. It became so much more than just a hunt. I will never forget the memories made or friendships formed during my hunt for MJ. I was always confident in coming home with a bull, I just didn’t realize I would be coming home with a Utah family.
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