Utah Elk Hunting: The Bull of a Lifetime

I have never been a lucky guy when it comes to drawing tags for hunts in Utah. It took 17 years to get my first muzzleloader elk tag, it took 9 years to get my limited-entry buck tag, and I have 26 moose points, so I am not the guy who draws a tag with 1 point – until now!


 
I had drawn a limited-entry muzzleloader elk tag in the Book Cliffs in 2016 and shot a nice, but smaller, 6x6 that hangs in my office. The waiting period ended in 2023, so I put in for a tag, and as one would expect, I did not draw that year. In 2024, I decided at the very last minute to change from a preference point and put in for a limited-entry rifle elk tag. I have been using Huntin’ Fool for the past seven years to help me decide where to apply based on draw odds, but this time, I went to the online application. I found the first elk hunt in Beaver East where we have a cabin and entered my information. I didn’t look at the odds or the dates of the hunt since there was no way I had any chance to draw with 1 point.
 
On May 15th when I saw an email from the DWR, I knew it was my draw results. When I opened it and saw “SUCCESFUL” for a limited-entry bull elk any legal weapon, I was speechless. My phone started to blow up as my friends and family heard the news. My uncle who taught me to hunt had drawn the November tag a year earlier with 25 points, and my cousin drew the same tag I had just drawn two years earlier with 28 points.
 
Within a few days, I was on the phone with Huntin’ Fool asking for guide recommendations. They suggested Martin Hunting. I gave Corbin from Martin Hunting a call, and he set me up with a guide who lived in Beaver and knew the unit like no other. We are a hunting family, and my 21-year-old daughter, Ella, wanted to join me, so I was so happy it worked with her school and work schedule to be able to hunt with me.
 
Ella is a dancer and in great shape, but I’m 63 and in moderately good shape. I knew I would need to prepare myself physically. There was no time to wait. I began working out, but nothing prepared me for what was ahead.
 
September 18th finally arrived, and it was time. The first morning, Ella and I were up at 3:30 a.m., and our guides met us at the cabin at Eagle Point at 4 a.m. We hiked about four miles into a big canyon, and the elk were bugling all around us. We saw a few nice bulls that I would have shot any day of the week, but Matt told me we could do better. We called and watched for a few hours and then headed back. That afternoon, we went in by UTV to a spot where elk were bugling all around us but didn’t see any shooters.
 
The morning of the second day, we were up early and hiking in the dark to get to a ridge where the guide had seen elk during a scouting trip. We were brush busting a trail to a ridge and were on top as it started to get light. Bulls were bugling back and forth. We watched a small 6x6 rake a juniper tree in response to Matt’s calling before bedding down 100 yard in front of us. We had passed on four bulls so far, and I would have shot any of them had I been alone, but Matt kept saying, “We can do better.”


 
For the afternoon hunt, Matt decided to move to the north end of the unit. We hiked the trail called “Pipeline,” and bulls were calling above us. Matt’s son, Garrett, had climbed above the tree line and found a nice bull, so we were going to make a stalk on it. Ella and I hiked as fast as we could to get to the spot just as the sun set. I got my rifle on my sticks and put the bull in my crosshairs. He was a nice 6x6 feeding just below tree line. I calmed my breathing and had him at 194 yards. Matt again said, “I don’t like his fifths. We can do better.” I looked at him like he was crazy! It looked like a perfect bull. I eased my finger out of the trigger guard and said, “Are you sure?” He said, “Yes, we can do better.”
 
We got back to the cabin at Eagle Point and Ella said, “Tomorrow is the day, Dad!”
 
The alarm went off in what felt like 30 minutes after I fell asleep. It was 4 a.m., and we were heading back to the same spot because Garrett had seen a huge bull right at dark and we were going to find him. He showed me a video he took, and that was all I needed to reenergize me.
 
We hiked the same Pipeline trail, and when we stopped, Matt told us to wait on the trail. He was going to go up the hill a bit to get a better look at the draw where his son had seen the bull the night before. We heard Matt bugling, and when we looked up at him, he was waving us frantically to get up to him. We dropped our packs and high-stepped up the hill about 40 yards. He pointed to the top of the draw where there were some pine trees. There were several cows feeding, and he said the bull had just walked into the trees and I should get ready. I kneeled and got my sticks up, but I couldn’t see over the tall mountain sagebrush. I stood up, extended my sticks, and got my Browning 7MM settled in the cradle. I dialed my Leupold Mark IV scope to 12 power and waited. Matt called, but the bull didn’t come out. Matt said, “There he is, standing between two trees right at tree line.” I swung my rifle up to find him. I had to squat down to see him clearly. All I could see was his ribcage and his antlers glistening in the early sunlight above the trees. I asked how far he was away, and Matt said, “430 yards.” I dialed my Leupold turret to 400 plus two clicks and put the crosshairs on the ribcage and moved the crosshairs as far right as I could. I took one deep breath, and as I completely exhaled, the gun leaped in my hands as it surprised me. I saw nothing and reacquired the spot where he had been but saw nothing. Ella asked, “Did you get him?” I looked at Matt, and he smiled and said, “Did you hear that?” My heart was beating so hard that I couldn’t hear anything. He said he could hear branches breaking and that was a good sign.


 
Matt called his son, Garrett, on the radio and told him I took the shot and explained where he should hike to in hopes of finding the bull. Garrett made his way over to the top of the big draw, and Matt hiked from the bottom to meet him. I sat there in the dirt holding my rifle and going over and over the moment in my mind. After sitting in silence, Ella and I looked at the video she had taken, and I just couldn’t tell if he was down. I felt like it was a solid shot.
 
Suddenly, I heard Garrett yell out, “You got him!” I could not believe it. Ella and I hugged, and she said, “I knew you got him!” We made the climb, and as I cleared the pine tree, there he was, a beautiful, magnificent 6x7 mature bull with thick, heavy antlers. I let out a yell, put my rifle down, and put my hands on his massive antlers. One shot straight through his heart and lungs. He had traveled downhill about 30 yards crashing through deadfall and stopping on a steep hillside.
 
We high fived everyone and took pictures. Then poor Matt and Garrett deboned the bull as we tried to keep it from rolling down the mountain. We packed out the meat, and six hours later, we were back in Beaver and began measuring the elk. Its rough score was 392", the biggest elk of my life.
 
I was grateful for this incredible experience, especially to have my daughter with me. I had never pushed my body so hard, but all the practicing and training paid off in the perfect hunt. With the waiting period ahead of me, this will most likely be the last limited- entry bull I get to hunt, but the memories of that hunt with my daughter, Ella, will be with me forever. I now can say I am one of the lucky guys.