Ever since I first moved to Colorado and started hunting, it had been a bucket list dream of mine to shoot my first bull elk. The past three years, my husband and I had had some opportunities on my tags, but as hunting goes, nothing quite came to fruition. After my husband had a successful drop camp hunt with Mineral Mountain Outfitters in 2020, I was ready for my turn during Colorado’s first rifle season. I would easily have enough points to draw the tag in 2022.
In those two years between our two hunts, a whole lot of life happened. We got married, moved, and were blessed with our first daughter, Berkeley, on April 11, 2022. As my hunt was drawing closer, there was a lot more planning and a lot more variables to think of than we were used to. Arranging to leave Berkeley overnight for the first time with her grandparents as well as figuring out how I was going to pump every three hours in the backcountry (as I was still breastfeeding at the time) were a few of them. However, I pushed my “new momma worries” to the back of my mind, we dropped the little one off at her grandparents, and then we embarked on our trip with what seemed like half our cargo comprised of breast pumps and battery packs. Thankfully, my husband, Tony, whom I like to refer to as my “equipment manager and guide,” was able to figure out the rest. After arriving at the home of our friends, Greg and Shannon Roy (owners of Mineral Mountain Outfitters), we had all our gear loaded up on the horses and away we went.
After several miles in on horseback to our camp, I was eager to explore this beautiful country in search of a mature bull. The first morning, we headed out early to scout the mountain that we knew we might hit opening day. We were pleasantly surprised by the amount of elk we were seeing, making me even more excited for opening morning.
With hardly any rest, thanks to the bugling bulls all night and my excitement, we woke up extra early and headed toward distant bugles. We had multiple smaller bulls within shooting range, and my husband called a couple raghorns to within 10 yards, but I was doing my best to hold out for at least a mature 5 or 6-point. After a day of hiking filled with a ton of action and opportunities, we were hopeful that a bigger bull would move in to the group of nearly 40 cows we had found in one group.
The second day of the season, we again chose to go to the same meadow, and as the sun began to rise, we caught sight of a broken 5-point with a couple of cows as they were moving through the timber. The previous day, we had seen the same bull with 15+ cows. Tony looked at me and said, “A big bull pushed him out. We have to get to the meadow now.”
We quickly made the hike about 400 vertical feet to an overlook of the entire mountain. As we crested the hill, Tony immediately said, “I see another bull, but you probably won’t want to shoot him.” I took my binos out and looked for myself. I was a little confused because the bull I was looking at looked massive compared to what we had been seeing. I responded with, “Um, are you sure? I think I’ll shoot that bull.”
Tony took another look and immediately proclaimed, “Oh wait, there’s a different bull rutting a cow. Yep, let’s kill him.”
We had to close the distance somehow as we were currently 452 yards away. The only option with thermals pulling toward us was to crawl. Army crawling through the middle of a meadow as 90 or so elk fed, bugled, and chased around didn’t sound very feasible to me. As we began crawling, I noticed Tony was pointing out little rises where we could be concealed for quite a ways. My optimism grew. Still not knowing how big the bull was, I prayed we would get a chance.
Tony stopped and ranged the herd. He looked back and said, “They’re still 280 yards. I think we can get to 200. Stay low and in line with me. Deep breaths. You can do this.”
We slowly inched up to the top of our last little rise in the middle of the meadow. Tony slowly sat up on his butt and got the shooting sticks in place. He nodded to me and slowly did the same. Everything was cramping. My back, arm, and foot were just the few I noticed. I sat the gun in the grip and looked through the scope.
“Which bull?” I whispered.
“The one right in the middle walking our way,” Tony said gently.
“I got him,” I replied.
I couldn’t believe this was going to happen. The bull, in all his glory, walked between the two huge groups of cows. Raghorns ran out of the way as he approached. He was the bull I had dreamed about. The one I had hoped and prayed for.
“Squeeze nice and slow, honey. When he turns broadside, let him have it,” Tony whispered.
The bull did just that. He stopped broadside, and I clicked the safety off and steadied my aim. As he began to bugle, I noticed no cows were behind him and put pressure on the Browning 7MM. Boom! The gun went off, and I reloaded. “You hammered him! He went down!” Tony exclaimed. We both began to
celebrate, and I could hardly hold back the tears. We eased up to the edge of the timber where he had piled up. As we walked up on the bull, he began to grow. I couldn’t believe my eyes, and I as started counting points, he had seven on one side! Tony knew what he was but confessed that he didn’t want me to know before we closed the distance. We radioed to base camp where Greg and Shannon informed us they would get the pack string ready and head our way. It took three hours to meticulously break down the bull and then we headed to our wall tent.
Waiting for us was Greg and Shannon. They offered to extract the bull and us that afternoon. We quickly packed up our gear and headed to the meat. We reached base camp with gear, meat, and tired backs by 5:30 p.m. I was eager to see my baby the next morning, so we made the five-hour trip home that night and enjoyed reflecting on the hunt. From hauling the battery packs around the mountain for my pump to the raspy bugles, this hunt will be one I hold dear to my heart forever. I am so appreciative for the help and support of my husband (my guide), my parents (Mitch and Jen Bauer) for watching our daughter, and our dear friends (Greg and Shannon with Mineral Mountain Outfitters).
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