After an unsuccessful 2016 unit 36 New Mexico muzzleloader elk hunt, I joined the waiting list for a New Mexico reservation muzzleloader elk tag. In June of 2021, I was drawn for an early rut five-day hunt probably due to Covid cancellations. Many calls to the reservation Game Department and my friends at Huntin’ Fool satisfied me that this was a fair chase trophy, not management, hunt with competent and experienced guides.
I went into high gear preparing for my hunt. I resighted my .50 caliber muzzleloader with a new scope and a new bullet/sabot and fine-tuned my load. A lot of generous calls/texts from the assigned guide about camo, gear, weather, terrain, etc. and now I was ready. More importantly, I felt the guide was ready. He sounded experienced, energetic, and engaged. He had been scouting and texted several pics of impressive bulls. Everyone agreed the historic draught would lessen antler growth by 40 points or more. However, the guide insisted the most dominant bulls found a way to minimize this effect. I felt better about my trophy potential in a very poor antler growth year.
I decided to drive the 1,107 miles due to Covid and difficulties with transporting meat, cape, and antlers. My wife offered to help drive on two conditions. First, we detour to our one- year-old grandson’s birthday party in Dallas (only a 660-mile detour). Second, that I take the first reasonable trophy I saw so we could maximize our time in Dallas. It was a good way to preserve some “coupons” at home for future hunts.
We left early to spend some time in Santa Fe. The culture and history museums on the famous town square were very enjoyable. The weather was perfect, and the scenery was gorgeous. Surfing the internet along the way, my wife confirmed my guide was a well-known jewelry maker. I wondered if he would make me some custom bracelets.
The “inn” on the reservation was sparce but adequate for the circumstances. We met the other four muzzleloader hunters. They were all friends/family from within 50 miles of my hometown. We went on a private guided tour of the historical/cultural central area of town. Occupied, restored, 300+ year old adobes surrounding a mission church dated to 1620. It was a very cool, impressive local history/ cultural lesson. This guide, who interned at the Smithsonian Institute, invited my wife to a very private tribal religious dance the next day as I would be hunting.
The first morning, we listened predawn for bugles on a high plateau covered with cedars. At first light, we tried to get ahead of them and spot them for size. The first two attempts, we failed to get ahead. On the third attempt, we heard a loud muzzleloader report just ahead. We assumed another hunter got our elk, but we found out later they had missed. The shot finished our morning hunt, so we set up a hideout at the local favorite waterhole for the hot evening hunt. We headed back to the inn for breakfast and a nap.
An hour before sunset, I was in my hideout with the guide in his hideout 50 yards away calling. Before 30 minutes passed, I heard a nearby bugle behind and to the right. We expected the approach to be from the front and right, but such is hunting! Several minutes later, we heard a much closer bugle behind and to the right. I got positioned to shoot down my hideout’s entrance hallway and pulled down my camo bug head net. Quickly, antlers appeared in the horizon valley of two adjacent shrubs at 30 yards. He quickly moved behind the contiguous cedar, and I cocked the hammer. He froze for several minutes with his rump still visible. I thought for sure he was going to bolt.
After what seemed like forever, he slowly advanced to the other edge of the cedar. He looked right, straight, and then left directly at me, trying to find the source of that sound. Eyeball to eyeball at 20 yards, he couldn’t make me out tucked in the shrub with head net down at full draw. I had forgotten to turn down the scope from 9X, so I could count his eyelashes, but his points were hidden by the cedar. He leaned his head back and sniffed to try to wind me. Fortunately, I was downwind for now. I could now see his near main beam and 6 points but not his far beam. His vitals were still hidden by the branch tips, and he wasn’t moving forward. I decided he was big enough. I estimated his vitals and squeezed off. The roar and cloud were impressive, but I hardly felt the usually stout recoil. The “whap!” was gratifying as was the off cadence of his hoof beats. He piled up just as he came back into view 100 yards out.
The usual ground shrinkage was minimal. My trophy was a nice 6x6 with a broken brow tine and score estimate of 320". After the high fives and pictures, the Game officials transported him to headquarters for documentation and processing well into the night. I donated the quarters to their Golden Eagle Restoration Program. My guide’s friend caped the head and froze the meat and cape overnight.
My wife had a wonderful afternoon at a very moving religious dance that Caucasians never get to see. The other couple was a philosophy professor from my old university and his wife. The next morning, the guide helped load the SUV and fasten the antlers to the top. After a nice Dallas visit and elk steaks on the grill, it was straight to the taxidermist’s at home.
Sometimes things have a way of just working out. We both had a wonderful time. We met some great people. The wife was very pleased with her custom jewelry that arrived several weeks later. I might have earned more “coupons” at home than I burned. Thank you to Huntin’ Fool, the Game Department, my guide/jewelry maker, Larry, and especially my wife. I’ll be back someday, and as requested, I bet my wife will too. Customer service like it used to be!
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