January 2026
Elk Hunting | Utah
Story By: Flyn Williams
After 25 years of applying out west, I would finally have a real chance to harvest my first bull. However, as for me and my hunting partner and best friend, the wife, who are both in our 60s, we knew we needed some “Divine Intervention.”
I had studied the statistics for this year and determined there was an above-average chance to draw the Fishlake/Thousand Lake unit in Utah with my accumulated points, and praise God, I did. But now what?
Huntin’ Fool sent me “the list,” but none on the list had drawn the late season hunt. They all provided the best information possible, so we prayed. I also talked to a Huntin’ Fool Advisor, but again, not necessarily late season hunt specifics but a lot of encouragement and positive feedback. More praying.
The planning began, and unfortunately, due to unavoidable circumstances, neither my son nor daughter could help this year. We were on our own and knew this would be a monumental task for the two of us, so we continued to pray, knowing God would intervene. And, of course, He did so in extravagant ways.
We knew nothing about these units, so I just booked a motel room in a small town in our hunting area for 6 nights, which turned into 10. The room was huge, which was awesome because we had a ton of gear, and it was somewhat isolated from all the other rooms. Thank you, God! We had a 1,200-mile drive, so we had no desire to pull a trailer. We were leaving our 800-foot Texas elevation for an approximate 7,500-11,000+ foot elevation. It’s hard to train for that!
We had two days to scout and try to figure something out. That’s where God’s intervention truly began. This unit is massive, so where to go? We “ran into” a couple from Ogden, Tyson and Morgan, on two separate occasions in two completely different areas. We were on the right track. We then met a hunter, Ty, from Nevada who had the multi-season tag, which again was the hand of God. Ty suggested two different areas, and we went to each of them that same day and just so happened to run into Ty again. Still on the right track!
Not really knowing what to do opening morning and having seen tons of mule deer but very few elk, we went back to one of the areas Ty suggested but “accidentally” took a left instead of the right we had taken the day before. It was basically a long dead-end road. Some hunters raced around us that morning to get to “their spot,” so we just “happened” to stop short of the dead-end, not wanting to disturb someone else’s hunt. We were glassing and waiting for shooting light to walk over to a field and then it happened. I got out and started walking but turned around because I heard a truck coming. Willie, his wife, and their grandson pulled right up to our rig and a talk ensued that changed everything. They lived in Southern Utah, and it just so happened that they have been hunting in this unit for almost 40 years. When they found out it was just me and the wife, they welcomed us like family and said, “We are going to help y’all.” And help they did!
Our perspective changed. They took my number, gave us theirs, and left. Willie told me to look in the field where I was headed as it was a good place, and of course, he was right. We ended up seeing approximately 100 head of elk at over 1,500 yards. We were pumped! Afterwards, we started driving back and ran into Tyson and Morgan’s (the ones from Ogden) sister and brother-in-law and shared info, which again was just another coincidence, right?
We drove to an overlook, and within minutes of being there, Willie, his wife, two of their sons, and two grandsons came to find us. They showed us pictures of a bull their 12-year-old grandson had passed on that morning. He had drawn his first time applying, which is just another miraculous coincidence. They showed us exactly where two 6-points were located that morning, and my wife and I went there that evening, still opening day.
Just like clockwork, the bulls showed up, and a very nice 6-point was at about 625 yards broadside. I told my wife I should shoot that bull but hesitated. We saw a brief glimpse of a bigger bull higher but out of range and said, “Oh well, we’ll come back tomorrow morning to get the bigger bull.” That was the last we saw of either. The next morning, we briefly saw another good bull, but it was out of range. Each time we went back, we saw fewer and fewer bulls.
Then the regrets began as I had never shot a bull and had passed on what I considered “a really good one” on opening day. Days began to pass. Everyone met up at Willie’s family campsite, along with one of their friends, Bruce, who came to help. We all went in different directions on what I believe was the evening of hunt day three and all saw elk, so we formulated a plan. Bruce went with us to “the meadow” the next morning to help guide us into the bulls he had spotted that evening.
Just as all “well-made plans of man” go, there was some miscommunication, a dead rangefinder battery, and the bulls walked into the woods before any shots rang out. However, one was a definite shooter. We returned that night and found the perfect location for an ambush, but the weather did not cooperate and just about blew us off the mountain. The wife showed signs of hypothermia, so it was time to leave the meadow with no elk sightings anyway. They were smarter than us. The next morning, now day five, we returned again but only a few cows were viewed on a distant hillside.
Now somewhat frustrated, we returned to where we saw the first bulls the first few days and only saw one small bull. Day six found us back in “the meadow” with another stalk, some miscommunication, and another possible chance blown. Now, the day one bull was looking really good. That evening, we went to a totally different area and saw some elk and some amazing country but no shooters. On the morning of hunt day seven, we returned to “the meadow” for one last try.
In the meantime, we saw Tyson, Morgan, and her family again on day five. They stated that as soon as she tagged out on what would be her first bull, they were coming to help us. Also, my new friends from Nevada, Ty and family, texted on day six to say they had not tagged out yet but were also looking for a bull for me. I told Ty to have faith and send pics as we were both going to get bulls. He laughed but said he liked my optimism and was standing in agreement.
The morning of hunt day seven, it all came together. Bruce sat up on his hillside perch, found elk in the meadow, and guided us in. That “perfect plan” finally came together; the rest is history. The first two shots from around 350+ yards with my uncle’s custom 7mm WSM found their mark, and he was down, but his head was still up. I have no idea what happened to the next three rounds, but my wife finally calmed me down and I sent number six. It was all over. The huge warrior was down.
Almost every tine was either partially or fully broken. He was bigger than the first day bull. What a stud!
I texted Ty photos, but he had not yet received them because of the spotty service. In the meantime, he called to tell me he had shot a bull that morning and wanted to let me know there was an even bigger bull with his and where I needed to go to find it. I kindly interrupted him and said, “I sent you a text you should look at.” He said, “No way!” and we were beside ourselves as we had both killed bulls that morning. Divine intervention without a doubt! I had killed my bull in the same valley where we first met Ty, and after two days of scouting and seven days of hunting, it had come full circle. If not for HIS Divine Intervention, there would not have been Willie and his family, nor Bruce. God is so good.
Thanks to Ty and family, Tyson, Morgan, and family, but especially to Willie and family, as well as Bruce, who were sent by the Almighty. God is so, so, so good, and my wife, Sherry, is by far the toughest woman I have ever known. Thanks, Hun. It was fun!