November could not come fast enough for my cousin, Ty Brown, and me. It had been a number of years since we had hunted together and both had tags in our pockets. At the urging of my cousin, we put in for an easier draw tag to hunt Roosevelt elk in Oregon. I grew up on the Oregon Coast and had hunted elk there many times with some success, although it had been 20 years since. Time flies, and my old hunting areas were long since grown over or the local timberland owner no longer allowed access without a large fee. We were forced to hunt the public BLM and state-owned lands as well as securing access to a family friend's property.
We scouted only a day prior to season and spent it learning the logging roads, clear-cut blocks, and timber stands. Effectively, we were starting from scratch. Armed with our hunting experience and a new map, it was an exciting challenge. Hunting Roosevelt elk in the coastal rain forests of Oregon on public land certainly has its obstacles with hunting pressure, three-point or better antler restriction, terrain, dense undergrowth, rain, fog, and more rain! We made light of it all and had great attitudes, enjoying the liquid sunshine. "Just get out there and hunt" was our mantra.
Opening morning greeted us with rain and fog. I hunted several miles up a creek bottom that seemed promising with old clear-cuts and timber blocks throughout. It was a long hike to the top of the ridge where I would have a radio signal with Ty and arrange pick up. I found only old elk sign but enjoyed watching numerous blacktails in full rut behavior. They are beautiful little deer.
Ty had a productive morning and managed to locate a herd in the heavy fog by sound alone. Low visibility and some other hunters pushed them into the timber before he could lay eyes on them, though. At least we had an idea of where they were bedding and formulated a midmorning plan. We wanted to look over a timber block on the public land that was close to where the elk had retreated earlier. We eased through a recently thinned stand of timber that surprisingly had decent visibility in places. After a while of looking it over, Ty caught that tell-tale color difference all elk hunters know. Sure enough, only visible from one location between the trees at about 175 yards was a bedded elk. We simultaneously threw up our binos, and the next thing I heard was, “It’s a bull. Kill him!” I wasted no time getting him in my scope, but he had several large roots from an old stump covering his vitals. He was bedded looking away from us, so I quickly moved a few feet closer, hoping he wouldn't spook, and acquired him in the scope and fired. When I came out of recoil and got back on target, his head was still up, so I put in an insurance shot that proved unnecessary. The first one had done him in.
After congratulatory back slaps and hand shacks, through the brush we went to lay our hands on this beautiful beast. I never seem to get over the size difference in comparison to the Rocky Mountain bulls we spend more time hunting. Of course, the Roosevelts have a much more compact set of antlers best suited for the rain forest they live. It was a wonderful trophy to me nonetheless and excellent meat. Ty and I had him broken down and packed out in a couple hours. By elk hunting norms, it was a fairly easy pack that allowed us time for an evening hunt. We spent that time looking over some clear-cuts in the rain until dark with no elk sightings.
My close friend, Spencer, met us back at his late grandmother's home where we were staying to lend an extra set of eyes for the next few days. That next morning, all three of us looked over separate areas in hopes of locating a herd. The morning’s weather was rain and fog again, although visibility was improved from the opener. Spencer and I concentrated our efforts to feeding areas in the few clear-cuts that permitted some glassing. Vehicle pressure pushed the elk into the timber early, but Ty was able to get on some hot tracks that lead to a large timber block in a steep creek bottom. The three of us met up late morning and exchanged thoughts about the morning hunt and formulated an afternoon plan.
It was agreed upon to concentrate on the area Ty had trailed a herd into earlier. After looking over the map, the elk would more than likely spend the day in this timber block. The area was not far from where I had success the day prior. We started out about three hours before dark and slowly looked over the timber. After a bit, Spencer caught that tell-tale color difference down deep in the timber. Binoculars came out and we quickly confirmed it to be a feeding cow and calf 250 yards below. All three of us looked it over from different angles and several more appeared. I noticed a large bodied elk moving away from the small group and glassed him to confirm he had a nice rack with a lot of points. It was certainly legal. Ty was unable to see the bull from his location, and when he came to me to get lined out through the trees on him, the bull's head was deep in the ferns and only a third of his back was showing.
I whispered, “It's a good bull. Shoot him!”
It was a fairly challenging downhill shot that needed just the right touch to place the bullet slightly above the brushline and into his shoulder. Ty certainly had the skill to make the shot, but he still was unable to see the bull’s head and horns. I whispered to him to trust me that it was a good bull and shoot. Ty tried moving his position a bit, looking for confirmation and a better angle, when a vehicle drove by on the road behind us. The small herd looked up the hill our way and got nervous, grouped up, and walked a few steps into deep brush. They were gone. The bull immediately followed suit, and Ty finally got a quick look at his rack and was unable to make a shot through the trees. He was gone! All of this excitement took place in a matter of minutes that seemed like an eternity. As the three of us exchanged our different recounts of the event, a whole lot of “I should have…” and “I wish that…” were flying around. All of you hunters can certainly empathize about situations like that. Armchair quarterbacking past hunting decisions are part of the fun and experience, both the highs and lows. In the end, Ty wanted to “Trust but Verify,” and I cannot fault him for being conservative.
We all calmed our nerves and put the missed opportunity aside and continued to just hunt. That herd didn't seem spooked to us, and we hoped they might feed out into a large powerline ride-away before dark. Ty would still hunt and glass along the line, I was going to ease down into the timber, and Spencer was going to glass a larger clear-cut until dark. Ty was almost immediately presented with a huge boar black bear at about 60 yards, standing on his hind legs and pulling over the last fall blackberries. He enjoyed watching the jet-black bruin for a couple minutes before the wind swirled and he moved off. The clouds opened up, and heavy rain and wind pounded us.
I worked my way through the timber to Ty’s location when Spencer broke radio silence with news of a herd in the clear-cut with several bulls. With light fading fast, we tried to get our soaking wet selves over to him before legal light faded. The elk became nervous long before we linked up with Spencer and moved into heavy re-prod timber.
That evening over a wonderful dinner of my elk’s tenderloins, a morning plan was hatched. It stormed hard that night with heavy wind and rain. In the morning darkness, Ty slipped down into a large cut that we all felt the elk would feed into. The area could have shots past 600 yards if they fed on the far side. He had the rifle, training, and judgment to ethically make those shots if the opportunity presented itself. Spencer drove to the cut from the night before to glass while I worked over a small timber patch and clear-cut between them.
It was a little over an hour into the hunt as I moved along an old skid trail watching some blacktail deer when I heard a single shot from Ty’s location. There were other hunters simply road hunting the area, so I wasn't sure if it was him. I was excited to know, and it took considerable restraint on my part not to break radio silence in case Ty was in the middle of something good. Finally, after about 15 minutes, my radio cracked with an out-of-breath cousin telling me to head his way. Bull down!
Rounding the corner on the muddy road, I saw Ty with his hands above his head and a huge grin came across both our faces. Congratulations ensued, and a call was made to Spencer to head down the mountain and join us as the skies cleared and a beautiful rainbow appeared. It turned out that no elk were visible in the cut first thing, but he heard a single cow call down around the corner.
Ty thought, “Oh yeah, it’s on…” as he stalked their way in the morning mist. He was able to get within 30 yards of some cows and look over the spread of the group as more elk fed into view in a small, narrow clear-cut out of view from the main road. Finally, a bull fed into view about 235 yards away, moving directly from Ty, making it difficult to count points. The bull fed out of view, and Ty moved to his right to get a different angle. Several minutes had passed when the bull stepped from the small draw and turned his head. It was a one-shot kill!
We all had a great time on this hunt and saw bulls every day. In heavily pressured areas, that alone is an accomplishment. Not being afraid to get wet and just hunt was a huge factor in our success. I certainly want to thank my friend, Spencer, and his family, my cousin, Ty, as well as my lovely wife, Heidi, for her support. I see Ty and me bringing our spouses back in a few years to help them try and duplicate the success. Roosevelt elk are an amazing species and very challenging, so bring a backpack full of patience and good raingear and enjoy the liquid sunshine.
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