Well I just returned from my hunt a few days ago. Here is a recount of some of my hunt along with a few pictures.
All told I hiked over 70 miles in the gnarliest country that I’ve ever been in. I found plenty of young bucks, lots of elk and mountain goats, but only found 3 bucks that I would have been willing to shoot. All three happened to be hanging in the same drainage and I sat on them for 4 days before the opener. I learned alot about their habits, and how to glass effectively in those 4 days. I was camped a little over 12,000′ which allowed me to roll out of bed a little before first light and I could be to my glassing point before it was light enough to see through the glass.
Opening day came and like clockwork I found two of the bucks feeding up a avalanche shoot towards their bedding area. I watched them till the sun started to get high enough to push the daily thermals uphill. I made a little sketch of where they were bedded and was off to attempt my first stalk. From my last good vantage point I made mental notes of where they were bedded and It was looking really good for me to get a shot on the bigger of the two. He was a 4×4 that I figured to be in the 170-180″ range with a 25-27″ inside spread.
After dropping close to a 1000′ in elevation and then regaining some 1200′ I reached my marked tree to drop my pack and kick off my boots. After sliding on an extra pair of socks I knocked an arrow and began my decent to where I had last seen my buck bedded. The plan was to get to a line of krumholz(small trees that grow above timberline) that should have given me a 35-40 yard shot to his bed. Unfortunately in the time it took me to get to where I was the buck had switched beds and had moved 20 yards or so uphill. I was creeping downhill at a snails pace when I spotted his back forks through the krumholz and the panic button was immediately pushed….he was 22 yards away, facing downhill. With the wind in my face all I had to do was take two steps forward, get my release hooked and I’d have a chipshot. Typing this it seems like a pretty easy task, but I was rattled like I’ve never been in my life. I can remember looking at my release hand and it was shaking uncontrollably. I concentrated to ease the calipers closed to make sure that they didn’t “click” when the jaws closed. I did fine in that respect except that my shaking through my aim off and they clamped onto the D-loop and then slid off making the dreaded metal on metal clink That was all it took, he snapped his head in my direction then proceded to vacate the basin taking his little buddy with him.
To make a long story short I didn’t manage to tag out but I consider it a successful hunt none the less. Being that I had never set foot in the unit or hunted mulies I went into the hunt expecting to put on many miles and just hoped to be able to learn a little about hunting them up above tree line. I got to see some really beautiful country, met some nice folks, got some blown stalks under my belt, and in general had a pretty darn good time(or at least as good as can be expected when carrying 40-50lbs at 12,000′ )
Here’s a few pictures from the trip.