50 shade of gray PICs
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Snake River Marksman
- 3 point
- Posts: 382
- Joined: Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:52 am
- Location: Etna, Wyoming
50 shade of gray PICs
50 Shades of Gray
50 Shades of Gray is probably the best way to describe a predawn ride in the snowy aspens and firs. The sky is one shade, the aspens a different shade. The snow is a shade unto itself. The camouflage clothing of my three companions just looks gray as well. The only color is the orange of our hats.
Silence is the other sense of a snowy morning ride. The woods are silent except for the sounds of our horses. The clop of hooves on stone, the occasional snort of the horses and the sound our horses passing gas.
We ride in the half light and falling snow, climbing towards elk ridge. We’d been up there on Saturday morning when it wasn’t snowing. It’s Monday now. We saw elk from up there too but they were miles away on the other ridge. On Saturday we broke into two groups. Scott and Steph circled around to the south and we went north. We saw tracks but no other elk.
When we met back up in the parking lot, Steph had to leave for work. Scott said he had seen some elk on the back side of Adams Creek. They’d only be about an hour and a half ride. We decided to get some lunch and then go after them.
We rode out, following the old two track road that used to go to the dude ranch at the head of Adams Creek. It was a fairly easy ride compared to some of the other rides I’d been on this season.
When we topped the saddle and rounded the bend, the elk were no longer where they had been earlier. We rode down to a point and tied off the horses and sat down to glass. Scott rode back up the point a ways to relieve himself. While he was gone, a cow and calf came out into the valley floor. I had previously ranged right near that spot and knew it was just shy of 500yds. Robert ranged it at 470 yds. I lined up for the shot. It felt pretty good when the trigger broke, but nobody heard a hit or saw the elk flinch in any way. Scott came back down the hill and told us that he had seen a cow elk while he was “indisposed”. We all got a chuckle from that.
We walked our horses off the steep hill then mounted up and rode over to where the elk had been standing when I shot. The tracks in the snow made it easy to tell right where they had been. No sign of a hit was found either right where they were standing nor for 300yds down the tracks. A clean miss.
We climbed the hill following old tracks till we came to an opening covered with new tracks, beds, and elk droppings. We followed the tracks and sign into the woods. Oh what a ride we had! We topped the ridge and started down a finger ridge and I spotted elk ahead of Scott. I whistled at him and bailed off of Earl. I grabbed my rifle had hustled up ahead of Scott. I just got my sights on the elk, just 60yds away through the brush when Scott loudly whispered “Don’t shoot! It’s a bull, it’s a spike don’t shoot!” I lowered the rifle and Scott’s blood pressure all at the same time. Whew that was close. I couldn’t see the elks head as well as Scott could from atop his horse, and he hadn’t seen the elk till I had already got passed him. It was cool though!
We finished the loop without seeing any more elk. As we were climbing back up the saddle, Robert said “man wouldn’t it be cool if a bunch of elk would just come right down off the ridge in front of us?” We all agreed it would. We made it back to the truck without seeing any other elk.
50 Shades of Gray is probably the best way to describe a predawn ride in the snowy aspens and firs. The sky is one shade, the aspens a different shade. The snow is a shade unto itself. The camouflage clothing of my three companions just looks gray as well. The only color is the orange of our hats.
Silence is the other sense of a snowy morning ride. The woods are silent except for the sounds of our horses. The clop of hooves on stone, the occasional snort of the horses and the sound our horses passing gas.
We ride in the half light and falling snow, climbing towards elk ridge. We’d been up there on Saturday morning when it wasn’t snowing. It’s Monday now. We saw elk from up there too but they were miles away on the other ridge. On Saturday we broke into two groups. Scott and Steph circled around to the south and we went north. We saw tracks but no other elk.
When we met back up in the parking lot, Steph had to leave for work. Scott said he had seen some elk on the back side of Adams Creek. They’d only be about an hour and a half ride. We decided to get some lunch and then go after them.
We rode out, following the old two track road that used to go to the dude ranch at the head of Adams Creek. It was a fairly easy ride compared to some of the other rides I’d been on this season.
When we topped the saddle and rounded the bend, the elk were no longer where they had been earlier. We rode down to a point and tied off the horses and sat down to glass. Scott rode back up the point a ways to relieve himself. While he was gone, a cow and calf came out into the valley floor. I had previously ranged right near that spot and knew it was just shy of 500yds. Robert ranged it at 470 yds. I lined up for the shot. It felt pretty good when the trigger broke, but nobody heard a hit or saw the elk flinch in any way. Scott came back down the hill and told us that he had seen a cow elk while he was “indisposed”. We all got a chuckle from that.
We walked our horses off the steep hill then mounted up and rode over to where the elk had been standing when I shot. The tracks in the snow made it easy to tell right where they had been. No sign of a hit was found either right where they were standing nor for 300yds down the tracks. A clean miss.
We climbed the hill following old tracks till we came to an opening covered with new tracks, beds, and elk droppings. We followed the tracks and sign into the woods. Oh what a ride we had! We topped the ridge and started down a finger ridge and I spotted elk ahead of Scott. I whistled at him and bailed off of Earl. I grabbed my rifle had hustled up ahead of Scott. I just got my sights on the elk, just 60yds away through the brush when Scott loudly whispered “Don’t shoot! It’s a bull, it’s a spike don’t shoot!” I lowered the rifle and Scott’s blood pressure all at the same time. Whew that was close. I couldn’t see the elks head as well as Scott could from atop his horse, and he hadn’t seen the elk till I had already got passed him. It was cool though!
We finished the loop without seeing any more elk. As we were climbing back up the saddle, Robert said “man wouldn’t it be cool if a bunch of elk would just come right down off the ridge in front of us?” We all agreed it would. We made it back to the truck without seeing any other elk.
Stupidity is expensive
-
Snake River Marksman
- 3 point
- Posts: 382
- Joined: Sun Mar 11, 2007 11:52 am
- Location: Etna, Wyoming
Re: 50 shade of gray PICs
Sunday was a rain day. None of us thought it would be any fun to go riding around in the woods while it was snowing and raining (mostly raining). Elk hunting is supposed to be hard work but fun. I certainly couldn’t see the fun part of riding in a pouring rain all day.
Monday morning. 50 shades of gray. At the top of Elk ridge we’re met by a cow moose, and ½ mile visibility in the falling snow. We see a cow moose feeding on the ridge. The snow stops, but patches of fog drift up and down the valley. We spot elk, all way over on that same ridge as Saturday. Mostly bulls. Too far and too hard a ride in these conditions. There’s elk closer to us, if only we can find them.
We head north up the ridge. We spook another moose, just barely seen in the fog. Just as we’re about to drop off and circle around, Scott stops us. He says there’s no sense in continuing the circle since no elk have crossed the ridge. We backtrack down the ridge to the south.
As we get to the end of the ridge, Riley, Scotts son, looks back and whispers loudly “Larry quick, there’s elk!”. I dismount in a hurry and go behind Earl to grab my rifle from the scabbard. Just as I grab the rifle, Earl takes two steps forward, and I can’t grab my gun. I finally get the rifle and start moving up. Things get kind of confusing here. More impression than memory. I tried to get a range but there was just enough fog to make that impossible. I moved to the end of the ridge and the elk were there, down in the saddle. Steph came up beside me with Riley. Scott said to hold off we could get closer. We worked down the back side of the ridge. We set up again. Steph had trouble finding the elk in her scope. My chosen elk started to move so I fired. Steph fired, Riley fired. Riley fired again. Steph fired. My elk was hit hard and stumbling. The herd was moving.
When it all calmed down. We compared notes. Riley thought he’d missed everything, but was certain I’d hit. Steph wasn’t sure of anything. I finally got a clean range 301 yds. We rode down and spotted my elk laying just at the wood line. I dismounted and it got up headed up the hill in the woods. I grabbed my rifle and went after it. It didn’t make it twenty yards and stopped. I put the finisher into it. Whew! Six years of hunting and FINALLY I get my first elk.
Scott and Steph went in search of the herd. Riley and I checked the area for other blood trails. Nothing. We gutted the elk and then skidded it back to the truck. Scott and Steph showed up about an hour later. They’d seen more elk and had shot but neither had hit. Scott’s horse had jerked the reigns just as he was pulling the trigger,(he was dismounted but holding the reigns.) and Steph wasn’t shooting her borrowed rifle very well.
And so on a snowy November morning, my elk curse was broken. I had filled my cow/calf tag with a nice young calf. I couldn’t be more happy. I’ve still got my general tag, and there is an area open till the end of the month. Scott said we go back out after Thanksgiving. I can’t wait!
Monday morning. 50 shades of gray. At the top of Elk ridge we’re met by a cow moose, and ½ mile visibility in the falling snow. We see a cow moose feeding on the ridge. The snow stops, but patches of fog drift up and down the valley. We spot elk, all way over on that same ridge as Saturday. Mostly bulls. Too far and too hard a ride in these conditions. There’s elk closer to us, if only we can find them.
We head north up the ridge. We spook another moose, just barely seen in the fog. Just as we’re about to drop off and circle around, Scott stops us. He says there’s no sense in continuing the circle since no elk have crossed the ridge. We backtrack down the ridge to the south.
As we get to the end of the ridge, Riley, Scotts son, looks back and whispers loudly “Larry quick, there’s elk!”. I dismount in a hurry and go behind Earl to grab my rifle from the scabbard. Just as I grab the rifle, Earl takes two steps forward, and I can’t grab my gun. I finally get the rifle and start moving up. Things get kind of confusing here. More impression than memory. I tried to get a range but there was just enough fog to make that impossible. I moved to the end of the ridge and the elk were there, down in the saddle. Steph came up beside me with Riley. Scott said to hold off we could get closer. We worked down the back side of the ridge. We set up again. Steph had trouble finding the elk in her scope. My chosen elk started to move so I fired. Steph fired, Riley fired. Riley fired again. Steph fired. My elk was hit hard and stumbling. The herd was moving.
When it all calmed down. We compared notes. Riley thought he’d missed everything, but was certain I’d hit. Steph wasn’t sure of anything. I finally got a clean range 301 yds. We rode down and spotted my elk laying just at the wood line. I dismounted and it got up headed up the hill in the woods. I grabbed my rifle and went after it. It didn’t make it twenty yards and stopped. I put the finisher into it. Whew! Six years of hunting and FINALLY I get my first elk.
Scott and Steph went in search of the herd. Riley and I checked the area for other blood trails. Nothing. We gutted the elk and then skidded it back to the truck. Scott and Steph showed up about an hour later. They’d seen more elk and had shot but neither had hit. Scott’s horse had jerked the reigns just as he was pulling the trigger,(he was dismounted but holding the reigns.) and Steph wasn’t shooting her borrowed rifle very well.
And so on a snowy November morning, my elk curse was broken. I had filled my cow/calf tag with a nice young calf. I couldn’t be more happy. I’ve still got my general tag, and there is an area open till the end of the month. Scott said we go back out after Thanksgiving. I can’t wait!
Stupidity is expensive
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MuleyMadness
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Re: 50 shade of gray PICs
Well done, that's some great eating right there.
Re: 50 shade of gray PICs
No better table fare in the world!
It ain't the size of the gun but the placement of the bullet.
Re: 50 shade of gray PICs
Great story. Thanks for sharing.