The year 2020 will be remembered by many as the year of the pandemic with many negative connotations, and rightfully so. Our hearts go out to those who experienced hardships during this most difficult of years. For my family, we will reflect back on 2020 as one of the best hunting seasons my son may possibly ever experience in his lifetime. At only 13 years of age, my son, Weston, drew every tag I applied him for in 2020, including turkey (Idaho), elk (Idaho), antelope (Idaho and Wyoming), deer (Idaho), and ibex (New Mexico)! That alone is incredibly good fortune. The fact that he filled six of his tags is what made this an epic hunting season that we will never forget. He also achieved many major hunting milestones this year by taking his first game animal (turkey) with a bow, first big game animal (antelope) with a bow, and then his first mule deer. We are very fortunate to live in Idaho where we have so many hunting opportunities, including controlled and OTC hunts.
Of all of the hunts he drew, we were most excited for Weston’s elk hunt. My family is passionate about elk hunting, and we enjoy putting great tasting organic meat in our freezer. We had hunted this same elk unit in 2019 when Weston had taken his first bull elk. We learned a great deal during the 2019 season and paid our dues by putting in a lot of time and miles on the boots. This knowledge gained would carry over as dividends into the 2020 season. The elk hunt was in August, and we really wanted to try to get Weston a velvet bull since those hunting opportunities with a rifle are very rare. With dreams of getting a velvet bull, we planned to hunt hard the first couple weeks of August. On opening day, we saw a great 6-point velvet bull, but we were not able to get a shot off in time before he disappeared into the trees. We spent the next day helping a friend who had the same tag pack out his first bull. The first weekend hunt had helped build our confidence since we had seen elk and knew that a couple good bulls had been harvested. We were set to hunt Friday through Monday the following weekend.
Thursday evening found my wife, Kristi, Weston, and me backpacking into an area to set up our spike camp. We pitched our tent, ate our dehydrated meals, and went to bed with much excitement and anticipation for the next day. The next morning, we were up at 5:00 a.m. and ready to start our hunt after breakfast and coffee. We had no idea how long and memorable of a day we were about to experience. We hiked over some steep, rough terrain about two miles into an area I had identified while doing some pre-season scouting on the computer. It had everything an elk would need with water, feed, and cover and it was far from any road. I knew that if we were successful getting a bull in this area, we would need some help packing it out. With this in mind, I had already notified a horse packer and some good friends that we may be calling them for help if we got a bull down in this remote area.
We finally arrived at the spot I had marked with a waypoint, and it looked even better than anticipated. We had a great view of three different drainages where we were in a great position to see a bull coming in for water. We glassed from this ridge all day and hadn’t spotted a single elk. We were a bit discouraged, but I knew there had to be a good bull in this area. It just looked too good! It was starting to get late into the evening and light was starting to fade when Kristi suggested we leave so we wouldn’t be hiking back to spike camp in the dark. I knew this was exactly the time we shouldn’t be leaving, but I also knew that the safety of my family was first priority. I begrudgingly agreed that we should leave, and we started getting our packs ready for the long, steep hike out. As I put on my pack and started to turn in the direction back to camp, I turned back to take one last glance up the drainage I had been glassing all day. I could not believe my eyes as they focused on a spectacular elk rack coming down the game trail. With much excitement, I exclaimed “Bull!” as we then scrambled to unpack the rifle and get Weston set up for a shot. The bull had disappeared into the drainage below as we waited for him to show himself. We watched for 30 minutes, but the bull never came back into sight. We thought we had a good view of all of his escape routes, but I began to think maybe he slipped out through a small section of trees and we had missed seeing him. Again, we reluctantly mounted our packs to leave and made it maybe 50 yards when Weston decided to take a second glance at the other side of the drainage. He whispered, “Dad, elk! Elk!” To my surprise, I turned my head and there in a pocket of trees across the canyon was the bull standing broadside, looking right at us. The scramble to get set up for a shot ensued. I can’t explain it, but this bull just watched us the whole time while we again dropped our packs and got the rifle ready. All I can say is this beautiful bull was meant to be Weston’s.
Words cannot describe how amazing it is to watch your young son successfully take a dream bull. Weston made a great 350-yard shot with his Savage 6.5 Creedmoor on this magnificent 6x6 velvet bull elk, sealing this night forever into our memories. This night would prove to be one of the most wonderful and most miserable nights I’ve ever lived through. Not only did Weston get a great bull, but Mom and Dad were there for the entire experience, which made it extra special. The physical and mental toughness of my son and wife is amazing. I’m a blessed man for sure. The temperatures in August make it essential to get the meat cooled, so we had to break down this bull as quickly as possible and get the meat packed down a steep canyon to a creek below where it could cool overnight. I’ve broken down many elk, but never a bull this large solo and in the dark of night. It was exhausting work. Kristi even jumped in to help with some of the skinning. My hunting friends, Terry and Lucian, who were hunting nearby, hiked two tough miles in the dark to help us pack the meat down to the creek. We had the bull quartered and in game bags by the time they arrived. Simply put, these guys are incredibly awesome, and we are forever grateful for their help and effort!
We finally arrived back at our backcountry tent at 5:30 a.m. on Saturday, over 24 hours later, just as daylight was starting to appear. We collapsed into our sleeping bags completely exhausted, mentally and physically. After three hours of sleep, I was back up and texting with the horse packer to coordinate packing out Weston’s bull, giving them waypoints to locate where we cached the meat. This was the first time I’d used a horse packer to get an elk out, and it was money well spent. Back at the truck, seeing the mules coming down the trail with Weston’s bull was a great sight and ending to one incredible hunting adventure with my family.
Login