I guess the title of my story should be “The 60 MPH Wind Ridge Bull.” The wind blows in New Mexico where I’m from, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the wind in Wyoming.
I drew a great late season bull elk tag in northwestern Wyoming, and I would be able to hunt big bulls with my rifle for two months (October and November). A good friend and I headed up to northwestern Wyoming on September 29th, two days before the opener. I was told by a different good friend, who had the same tag in 2019 and killed a great bull, to get there early, locate a good bull because they would be in every canyon, and get him killed. I did as I was instructed. I went to the areas that held good bulls the year my friend had the tag, but there were no bulls! The temperature was unseasonably warm – 70-80 degrees during the day and above freezing at night. It was not a good combo for finding good bulls.
I made a call to the local biologist who let me know that this was one of the warmest Octobers he had ever seen and that the bulls were not following usual migration routes and patterns. He also let me know my best bet would be to head home, pray for snow and colder weather, and come back in November.
I made the decision that I would use a guide when I came back in November. I had max points for drawing the tag, and I wanted to make the most of it. I got on the phone with Austin from Huntin’ Fool and asked who he would recommend to guide me. He responded quickly with “Josh from Shoshone Lodge Outfitters.” I spoke with Josh, and the plan was to let me know if and when the bulls were starting to move.
On November 14th, I jumped in my truck and made the 13-hour drive back to Wyoming. I met my guide, Jake, early on Monday morning. We drove to our hunting area for the day and set up our glass on the aforementioned “Wind Ridge” to try and spot elk of any kind. We noticed a father and his two sons below us on the same ridge, glassing the same canyon. Now we had two issues to deal with – difficulty glassing in the crazy wind and another hunter and his sons looking at the same country we were hunting. Not good!
To make a long story short, the father and sons were the nicest guys I’ve ever met. They would work the lower end of the area, and Jake and I would work the upper end. That Monday and Tuesday, we glassed up numerous 300-320" bulls, all of which seemed to be broken, but no big bull sightings. Wednesday morning as I sat on the ridge, I was beginning to question my sanity. The cold wind was unrelenting, and I only had brief intervals to glass when the wind would settle to a steady 20-30 mph.
An hour before dark on Wednesday, I spotted the big bull I had come to Wyoming for twice. He was sidehilling the mountainside and heading to the thick pines. He was over 1,000 yards away with no shot opportunity based on the wind speed. We grabbed our packs and my rifle and bailed off the ridge to a ledge 500 yards below us. I was in total disbelief when I looked across the canyon and spotted the bull laying down in an open spot in the pines. I laid down, got benched in solid as a rock, and was ready for the shot. Jake called out the yardage, “560.” The wind on our side of the canyon was at least 40-50 mph, so we decided to hold a foot in front of his nose to compensate for the wind. I sent the 210 grain Berger across the canyon. The bullet struck at least a foot behind the bedded bull. He stood up, and Jake yelled, “Hold three feet in front of his nose!” Bingo! Lethal hit! With 20 minutes of light left, the bull was down.
In Wyoming, you are discouraged from retrieving downed game after dark. Grizzlies are found in the area, and it is best to be cautious. On Thursday morning, we rode into the canyon on horseback with two mules in tow. It was a beautiful day, and you guessed it, no wind! As we rode up to the bull, he kept getting bigger. I had a side-to-side grin on the ride out of that awesome canyon.
Thanks, Jake, for guiding me! I’m so thankful for a wife and girls who put up with my obsession. I’m also thankful for the opportunity to sit on a cold, windy ridge and to have harvested a great Wyoming bull elk.
Login