A Year Like No Other | Idaho Elk Hunting

Story By: Kenneth Cain

After packing out the last load of meat, my hunting partner, Jon, made the profound statement that, “Maybe it takes something really bad to happen for something really good to happen.” This was definitely the case for 2025 and for our self-guided Idaho public-land elk hunt.

Most of these stories start with checking emails and drawing a coveted elk tag in a state where giant bulls are everywhere! This was not the case for either of us. I apply all over every year, but our backup is always the same Idaho unit we have hunted for over twenty years. Trophy-class elk are rarely seen in our unit, and when we take any bull during archery season, we consider it a trophy.

For me, 2025 was especially challenging. Elk season nearly didn’t happen! Three years prior, my family moved to Washington State for work, planning to return to our Idaho home after retirement. Since moving, we had been in a rental, but on August 1, our lease was up, so we had to move into a new rental home. Little did we know, thirteen days later, this home would be destroyed by a fire that engulfed everything in a matter of minutes. We’re still not sure how it started, but luckily, no one was injured. We lost nearly everything, including all of my guns and my backup bow, but my main Mathews bow was in my truck, so it was spared from the fire! I had all but given up on elk hunting, but as mid-September approached, I realized I needed to take some salvaged items back to our Idaho home for storage; I thought . . . “Maybe I could hunt for a few days while I’m there.”

I talked to Jon, who had already been out a few times and located a group of elk he felt we should focus on. I decided to drive over on September 18. I arrived just before dark and set up camp. When Jon got there, we caught up on things and then made a plan for the morning. With all that had happened, I felt much less prepared than normal. Four a.m. came early, but we were off to the trailhead to hike in. About ten minutes up the trail, I noticed my quiver had come loose. This was not good, so I headed back to the truck to find a tool to fix it. I finally caught back up to Jon just before daylight about a mile up the mountain. We listened and could hear at least one elk bugling just up the drainage where Jon had located them two days earlier.

It was before shooting light, so we worked our way up the draw to get closer before setting up. We paused just as it got light enough to see, and Jon let out a bugle. Immediately, we heard one bull, then another, about 100 yards up from us. We set up and called a bit more, then caught movement below. It was a lone cow coming in. She came to within 15 yards, but neither of us wanted to fill our tag this early. She finally took off, and we could tell the rest of the herd was moving, so we headed up the drainage to see where they were headed. We crossed fresh tracks and heard a couple of bugles. It appeared they were headed toward the top of the ridge, so we decided to follow. There were lots of fresh tracks when we got to the ridgeline. We paused, then suddenly we caught movement through the timber below. We slowly followed, thinking the herd we were after had crossed into the next drainage. Once we reached some open timber, I caught a glimpse of an elk rump at the top of a finger ridge. It looked like a nice bull, so Jon set up, and I slipped behind some trees to try to call him into range. He started in our direction but wouldn’t commit. Apparently, he had a cow with him that Jon could see from his position. As the bull followed the cow out of sight, we regrouped to make another plan.

As we debated, a bugle sounded off to the north where the bull had headed. Jon wanted to circle below to see if he could intercept the bull. I decided to circle above the bull in case he headed that direction. We decided to meet up in an hour and wished each other luck. As I moved into the next draw, I saw a large wallow and realized exactly where I was. We’d hunted this area heavily a couple of years earlier after a nice six-by-seven showed up on one of our trail cams. Based on those hunts, I knew most elk would head to a deep canyon to the northwest to bed down for the day. I moved up the familiar ridgeline and out to a point that overlooked the steep canyon. I bugled into the canyon and immediately got an answer off to my left. This was where I expected Jon to be. I hoped he was closing the deal on the bull he was chasing.

I waited for a few minutes then bugled again. All of a sudden, I heard a bugle up the ridge directly behind me. I looked up and saw a cow and a calf coming straight towards me. About 50 yards behind them was one of the biggest bulls I have seen in this unit! I quickly nocked an arrow and moved behind some cover as they continued in my direction. I ranged a tree near the trail they were on, but as I lowered my rangefinder and looked up, the lead cow was staring right at me! I froze and waited. She finally calmed down and continued with the calf behind her. I turned to look uphill, and wouldn’t you know it—the bull was also looking right at me. I thought for sure I was busted, but, luckily, once he saw the cow had started moving again, he refocused on her. If he continued on their trail, he would come out at 25 yards, and that is exactly what he did! As he went behind a tree, I drew my bow. He passed the tree and immediately stopped looking right at me. His vitals were exposed just enough, so I settled my pins just behind his shoulder and released. Thwack! The bull spun around and took off. As he was going out of sight, I thought I saw him topple over, but I was sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. I immediately started shaking as I realized what had just happened. There is no way to explain how adrenaline hits you after releasing an arrow on an elk!

As I calmed down, I knew I needed to give the bull some time, so I decided to move down the ridge to see if I could find Jon. I bugled a couple of times. Ahh . . . there he was. I heard Jon’s distinctive bugle. I glassed down into the draw leading into the canyon and spotted what looked like antlers. Sure enough, an elk was bedded about 40 yards away with its head slowly moving up and down. I thought, “Is this the elk I shot?” No, it couldn’t be; he had gone the opposite direction. I looked again and could see the bull had just expired. Then I realized that Jon must have shot the bull he was chasing! Could we possibly have two elk down at the same time?

Just then, I saw Jon. I came down the hill with a huge smile and couldn’t hold my excitement. We high-fived, and Jon thought I was just happy for his success. Then I said, “I think I got one too!”

Jon replied, “No way!” and then jokingly asked, with a tinge of arrogance, “Is it bigger than mine?”

I chuckled and said, “. . . uh, YES.” I wasn’t being dismissive, as Jon’s bull was no slouch, but little did he know! In all the years we’ve hunted this area, we have never taken two bulls in a season, let alone on the same day within 100 yards of each other! As we went over to where I’d shot my bull and looked up the draw, there he was, right where I thought I saw him topple over. What an unbelievable hunt! We took pictures, but it was hot, so we couldn’t waste time. We quartered both bulls and moved all the meat to a nearby creek to stay cool. The two of us spent the next two days packing everything out, but what an adventure to share with a great friend and hunting partner! It was crazy that I only hunted for three hours in 2025 but harvested my biggest bull to date. After such a difficult year, it all came together, and it was a year like no other!