Why There, Why not Somewhere Else?

I've asked myself many questions in my lifetime, like the time I decided it would be a good idea to hoist a roll of carpet up on my shoulder. After feeling the pain that followed this "clever" decision, I was certainly asking myself, "Why did you do that ya durn fool?" Yup, two neck surgeries later, I'm still askin' that same question. Ya see, gettin upset and actin' like a 'durn fool' cost me plenty. Now, I get reminded of that decision on a daily basis. Guess I've gotten a bit of the subject here, huh? Back to the question at hand, "Why There, Why no Somewhere Else"?

Well, I suppose familiarity has something to do with it. I mean, after all, we've been there so many times, it just feels sort of comfortable. Ya see, once you've found a spot that you know pretty well and you feel at ease with it as you hike into the woods, it provides a comfort level that just brings you back. I'm talkin' about this spot that is our fallback, our security blanket, our elk camp when our desired elk camp just doesn't work out.

All those years ago, we used to be able to elk hunt just about anywhere we felt like wandering. We'd try one spot, then another, then yet another. We've sought out the Wily Wapiti in places called Conner, Sugar Loaf, Corrigal, Vinegar, Vines, Bull Run, Table Mt, Tieton, Nainamo, Sheep, Ritch, Phillips, Deer, Trinity, Rye, and the list goes on and on and on. We've had success in some and not in others, but we've left a piece of ourselves on every ridge, in every canyon, across every stream, through every thicket and around every bend. We've learned lessons about where, or more properly I suppose, where not to set up camp. We've found Elk in places they really shouldn't be and not seen the critters right where we just knew they'd be hiding.

Ya know that feelin'? The one that has you doin' the "sneak n peak". Yeah, it's got every sense on the alert, every thing is on the ready. You're eyes see every movement of every bird, squirrel, mouse and bug. You're ears hear every chirping bird, buzzing insect, whistling breeze and chattering squirrel. You're nose smells all of the aromas of the woods, from the flower's to the pines to the critters. This is the moment, the time that all Elk Hunters are keen for. We've been waiting for this moment since the last time we were in the woods, it's in our blood, it's in our dreams, it's just in us, period.

I spose I've had that feeling, at one time or another, in just about every corner of the woods I've been to. That's a big part of what brings me back every year. Brings me back to the spots I've grown to love and have even named some of the trees and logs and such. Why There? Because it's a part of us now. Once the State decided that we'd have to apply to hunt in certain areas, it became impossible to just go where you felt led to go. You had to decide months ahead of time and then, if you didn't get "drawn" for the area you had so carefully decided upon, you needed that "fall back" spot. The place you could always count on to accept you back after you'd gone away and spurned her for another for a year or so. She's always there to take you back, and welcome you home for yet another adventure.

Why There? Why not? We've spent many a night in tents and trailers in that meadow. We've raised kids to love that spot just as we do. We've laughed there, cried there, loved there and heck, I can think of a lot worse places to die than there. There's a comfort walking down that old closed road before light. We know our way and we know our destination. We'll stop at the little meadow on the way in, the early light, so dim, opens up the valley below and the mountain beyond. Then off down the trail again till we meet our 'marker tree' and head into the trees. We're extra quiet now, for beyond this thicket is the meadow and the log where we so often meet. And just below to the right is the canyon where we've seen Elk so many times, so we must be as silent as we can so we can enter this Wapiti home without being seen or heard.

Once we've made it to the "lunch log", as we have aptly named it, we finalize our plan for the day. We'll make the decision to sneak our way through the meadow and the thickets to the South or we'll position ourselves along the edge of the canyon to wait and watch and listen. Either plan can work, but which plan will work for that morning. No-one really knows, we just have a feeling that the decision made is the one that is gonna' land an Elk Steak on our dinner plate. Funny thing about those morning decisions, I've yet to see much of a disagreement as to just where we ought to go. We're kind of in tuned with each other and trust each others premonitions. The morning hunt then carries on through the hours of watching, waiting, sneaking, peeking, glassing and just plain taking in the glory of seeking the Bull of the Woods. Just the mere sound of a Bull Elk bugling is music to the ears of anyone who has entered the Elk woods during the rut. And mind you, there is nothing in this world that compares to the sound of a Bull Elk bugling, nope nothing.

Well, once the morning hunt is complete and if we've not been fortunate enough to have a Bull in the tree, it's time to meet once again at the Lunch Log. And this time we'll have, you guessed it, lunch, usually consisting of a granola bar or a sandwich, an apple, a few nuts & raisins or maybe even some sardines and crackers. Oh yes, there is also the leftover Halloween candy. My personal favorite is a Big Hunk, good stuff for sure. Now is when we tell our tales of the morning's adventures. We'll find out who saw what and how many, now this includes Elk, deer, bear, coyote, and hunters. You see, it's good to know how many other folks are out there traipsin' around in the woods. Sometimes you can use someone else's location to help you decide just what your next move should be. Heck, I'm certainly not opposed to allowing some other feller to run the Elk my direction. It's called bird doggin', and as far as I'm concerned, I'd rather that some other guy is bird doggin' for me instead of the opposite way around. Then again, if you've seen too many of those other fellers, it's time to move on out and find another spot to bag a Bull.

Once the plan is set for the afternoon hunt, it's off into the woods again. Maybe we'll head back to the same spots, maybe we'll head somewhere else, but for sure, we're headed back after em. It's a bit different on those afternoon hunts. You're more apt to hafta get into the brush more and kick a critter out of his hidy hole. But that's okay, cause I hunt with a couple that seems to thrive on gettin' into the thick of it, Literally.

Did you know that Elk Hunting is always successful, now I don't mean that you get an Elk every year, cause by now you know that I certainly don't. It's just that sometimes yer more fortunate than others, that's all. When we are among the less fortunate and the day is gettin' long in the tooth, its time for the hike back to the main road where our rig awaits the tired and hungry hunters. It always feels really good to see the truck, I mean, who wouldn't be happy to unload the fanny pack (bum bag to my Aussie and Kiwi friends), take the rifle sling off the shoulder and sit yer tail down in the seat of the rig. Feels darn nice, I'll tell ya!

After the drive back to camp it's time to get the gear ready for the next day and fix up a dinner fit for the Kings and Queens of the mountain that we most certainly are. I'll tell ya what, we have some of the best meals know to man up there on the mountain sittin' in a wall tent. The steaks, crab, pork loin, salmon, lasagna, etc. is as good as you can get anywhere. On top of that there is just something extra special about sharing these wonderful meals with the best people on earth. Yes, Elk huntin' partners are without a doubt and undeniably the best people on earth. Ok, so here's a funny story You know how the Elks Club has the initials B.P.O.E. for their acronym? Well, when I was a young feller, I used to think it stood for Best People On Earth. Funny thing is that it's not the Elks Club, its the Elk Hunters that are the Best People On Earth.

After all the great eats with the great people the stories and tales begin to flow, along with an adult beverage or two. I'll never grow tired of listening to those stories. There are brand new stories from the day just finished, there are stories about friends and family and work and play that have accumulated since the last time we all sat around a fire or a wood stove, and really, best of all are the stories we've all heard a hundred times. Stories just as fresh and new as the first time they were spun. Stories that make your gut ache from laughing so hard you've nearly fallen out of your chair. Yep those are the best ones, and if you've ever sat around the fire at Elk Camp you know just exactly what I'm talkin' about.

The laughter eventually fades, and one by one we amble off to our cots to get the much needed rest we'll need to renew our bodies for tomorrow, for tomorrow brings fresh, new experiences around every bend in the trail and glimpse through the binos. Yep, fodder for more tales to be told and laughter to be heard. Another glorious day in the Elk Woods has come to an end and it will be hard to beat, but we will try and we will succeed. You see, every day in the Elk Woods is successful, successful indeed and wonderful and beautiful and inviting and well, it's the reason we go There and not Somewhere Else. It is our home in the woods, our place of comfort and welcome, our place of awe and wonder, our escape from the day to day, our peaceful and yet exciting haven. I just can't wait to get There.

Just What is an Elk Hunter

What is an Elk Hunter? I suppose that most folks figure an Elk Hunter is somebody that heads to the mountains in the fall and wanders around in the woods for a few days. I suppose those same folks have serious questions as to the mentality of those mountain woods wanderers. What they don't get is that real Elk Hunters, now I mean real, serious, go getter types, aren't just wanderin' around in the woods a tryin to escape reality and such.

You see to a Real Elk Hunter, Elk Camp and Elk Huntin' is their reality! Elk Hunting doesn't last just during the few days before season and then end after two or three days of not seein' critters. Elk Hunting begins on your way home from Elk Camp. Really, I mean it, it is on your mind, in your dreams, filling your thoughts and dang near literally in your blood, that is if you are a Real Elk Hunter. Even as you are breaking camp, after a long a tough Elk Season, the True Elk Hunter is already beginning the next Elk Season. All during camp you've been taking mental, and pencil, notes on how you might do it differently next year, or what piece of gear or gadget you forgot or just must obtain prior to the next Elk Camp.

A funny thing happens as you pull out of Elk Camp. It is darned hard to see or even focus your eyes. You know why? Wull I do, it's because there's been tears in your eyes cause you just gave your best buddies a big ole hug and the scary thought that this just might be the last year you get to see each other at Elk Camp has flashed through yer brain. It tugs at your heart strings and pulls you closer than ever to the best friends you could ever have in this world. This may be the biggest reason we keep going back year after year, cause we just don't want to miss that next chapter in the Adventures of the Elk Hunters. Yeah, we keep showin' up, like our lives depended on it, and maybe they do? We've been there with various maladies and injuries and troubles, and as long as we can get there, Elk Camp happens! I know that we haven't all had perfect attendance, but, I can garantee that anyone who hasn't made it, has literally ached to be there and more than anxiously awaited the tales of Elk Season.

Then, when you've gotten yourself together and are heading down the road, each stretch of gravel & pavement means that your are getting further and further away from Elk Camp. There's this terrible urge to turn back or at least just stop and refuse to move on, but alas this season has come to an end, and it is now time to prepare for the next Elk Camp. Then you get to the highway. Another funny thing happens, you forget that you have to actually remember how to use a seat belt. A seat belt! What! Yeah, it's that nylon strappy thingy that you stuffed into the seat cushion when you got to Elk Camp.

I suppose that the very worst part of returning back to civilization from Elk Camp is unloading the gear from the trailer, truck, SUV, RV or whatever vehicle you use to transport all that gear. Thats why I've started following my buddy Randy's method. I just leave Elk Camp in the silver trailer, I mean, after all, that why I got the silver trailer to begin with, right? If I need the trailer fer somethin' else, well, its just temporary, the gear goes right back it.

What I'm tryin' ta get ya to understand is that Elk Huntin' isn't just something that Elk Hunters do, it's who and what they are. Deep down inside that carpenter, office worker, business owner, doctor, waiter or mail carrier lies the inner Elk Hunter. It's a year-long, full-time obsession. This obsession isn't with Elk, it isn't with being in the woods, it isn't with shooting a 30-06 or 300 Win. Mag., and it isn't with getting away from it all (whatever that is). Elk Huntin' is about relationships. Relationships with the great outdoors, with the wildlife, with the wind, with the Creator and with the incredible friends and family that make Elk Camp and Elk Huntin' so absolutely, wonderfully enticing. Yup, thats it, relationships..............

Elk Camp Interrupted

The plans had been planned, the gear had been inventoried, the tents had been repaired, and yes, the date for Elk Camp was nearly upon us. It was October 18th and I was due to head for the mountains on the 23rd. Here's where the plans made and dreamt of were going to head downhill in a hurry, and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. In fact, there wasn't much I could do period. Yup, the fear of all Elk Hunters had found me. I had been attacked by that most hated malady, the FLU!!! Now this wasn't just your average, everyday, run of the mill flu either. I had been somehow or another exposed to the PIG FEVER. So, I'm thinkin', I'll be able to kick this thing and be on the road to Elk Camp by the 24th or the 25th, tops. The good thing about that is that the season opener really wasn't until the 28th and this would give me a couple or three days in the woods before opening day. You've got to understand a couple of things here. You just hafta head up to the hills early so you can set up camp, haul firewood, scout for Elk, relax a bit, make final preparations, and take in all that is Elk Camp. This takes several days, or at least three at the bare minimum.

The 23rd came and went with me still unable to expend much more energy than it took for me to walk from the bed to the chair to the terlit and back to the bed. I was as weak as a pussy cat and not getting my strength back in any hurry. On the 24th I headed out to the shed to start getting boxes of gear and tents and such and putting them in my silver enclosed trailer. (I gotta tell ya, I really like this trailer. It keeps everything dry and protected and best of all the paint matches my Durango and well, by golly, the Durango and trailer just look darn good goin' down the road together.) Back to the gear, I carried about 3 boxes and I'm worn clear out. This does not bode well, for I have several boxes, two wall tents, two wood stoves, tent carpeting, tent frames, fold out kitchen, tables, chairs, stools, cots, pads, sleeping bags, etc., etc. to pack into this trailer. Not to mention the water jugs, gas cans, chain saw, ladder, coolers, food box...........I think you get the idea, once again I can't get to Elk Camp without a whole bunch of gear and gadgets galore.

On the 25th the Pig Fever broke and I was sweating and shivering and a just plain old mess, but afterward I began to feel better. Problem was, I still didn't have any strength or stamina. I'm figuring now that if I get to Elk Camp at all it's gonna be a whole lot later than I'm very happy with, no, I can't really explain how I was feeling and use the word happy, cause I wasn't. By Tuesday the 27th, I'm finally finding the strength to pack the trailer. It's already four days after I was supposed to have left and Deb and Spence were planning to meet me at Elk Camp on Thursday. Crapola, I'm just gonna hafta wait and go up there with them. I won't make a bit of sense for me to leave on Wednesday and them leave on Thursday. Well, by Wednesday the 28th at noon we're ready to head out, but it's really too late to make it all the way to Elk Camp and get set up before dark. We make it as far as LaGrande and spend the night.

After breakfast the following day, we finally head for Elk Camp. We get there and get camp all set up and once again I'm so tired I can hardly move. I'm thinkin' now that maybe I shoulda just stayed in town and skipped the whole thing. Well, I thought it for a fleeting moment or two anyway. So there we were, at last in the mountains, but the first two days of the four days we had to hunt were over. I've got my wife and 16 yr old with me and Spence is keen to get out and find himself an Elk. Problem is, I don't have the energy to do much hiking, so I ask my buddy Brad if Spencer can tag along with him and head into one those big Elky canyons while Deb and I hang out up on top and take it a little easier.

I'll tell ya more about this here interrupted Elk Camp later. Stay tuned for more..............

You Were Right Son

I enjoy taking my kids hunting with me. I mean, some of the very best times I've had in the field have been with a youngin' in tow. They aren't always as quiet as I'd like, and sometimes they can slow the whole process down a bit, but if I had to choose, I'd choose missing an opportunity to bag an animal if it means I get to spend some precious time with one of my kids.

Of course this brings me to a little tale about how sometimes it just won't kill ya to listen and take junior's ideas to heart. I had drawn a Spike Bull tag in a unit pretty close to home, and it allowed me to hunt from the house and be able to take along my 10 yr old son. So off we go in the wee hours of the morning to see if we can find the elusive Wapiti Spiker. I figure Junior isn't gonna be able to take too much of a hike, so I decide to drive to a couple of spots we might be able to get to and find a good place to take a short hike and sit and watch a game trail or meadow. Well, we're drivin' down this road and Junior sees a spur road and says "Dad, lets go up there". So anyway, I've got a place in mind, so I tell him, "nah, I don't think that's such a good spot". We get to where I'm certain is a better place and we bail out of the rig and head down a loggin' skiff. We aren't seein' much sign, and what we are seein' isn't fresh. At any rate, I find a spot where we can sit and watch and wait and listen and well, that's all we do, cause there isn't a thing to watch, wait for or listen to.

Back down the trail we go to the truck, and back down the road we drive. Along the way to another "sure fire" hunting spot, we pass the same spur road that Junior had mentioned before. "Hey Dad" he says, "you sure we shouldn't try up there". "Yeah, I'm sure" I tell him and keep on drivin'. We come to this "sure fire" area, and off we go again. This time we don't even see old Elk sign. Along with that, we certainly don't see any Elk. Junior is beginning to lose interest and I'm runnin' out of hunting spots. But I have one more thought in the area, and it's up past the first place we went. So off we go, drivin' past Junior's spur road again. He just looks at me this time, I shake my head and continue down the road.

Of course, we have just about the same experience at this "perfect spot" as we did the first two. Now, not only is Junior losing interest, I'm beginning to myself. "Not any Elk around here" I spew forth, and what does Junior say? "Dad, what about that one road we keep driving past, we haven't tried there yet". "OK, lets give it a try, can't be any worse that what we've done so far."

I pull off on this spur road and it only goes about a hundred yards or so and is blocked off. We hop on out and head down the trail. Good criminy, there are Elk tracks right in the middle of the track and they were put there earlier that day. Well, I'm tellin' Junior that I shoulda listened to him and he's givin me the ole ' I told ya so'. We haven't seen any animals yet, so we sit on down on this log up above the main trail and wait, and not for very long either. Along comes this young Cow and she doesn't have a clue that we are there. In fact she never does and we sit there for over 30 minutes. She gets within about 20 yards of us and we never move, she never winds us and Juniors eyes are as big as saucers for the entire time. This Cow grazes and poops and just meanders around and doesn't have a care in the world. Well, she's the only critter we see. We don't get to shoot her cause I'm carryin' a Spike tag, and the rifle never leaves my knees. Junior is all smiles and can't stop talkin' about this here Cow that gets so close to us, and who knows, if I had listened to him earlier, we might just have seen the critters that made the fresh tracks.

The darn kid had a feelin' about that spur road all day long and dad just 'knew better'. Well I learned a lesson there, cause sometimes you just have a feelin' about where to hunt. There isn't an explanation as to why, but you just know it's the right place to go. At least Junior did...........

This Is What It Really Means

You know, there is this book, and it is pretty thick, that is full of all kinds of interesting information about what the English language really means. It's called the Dictionary of American Slang. Well, I'm thinkin', I really believe there should be another book, one that I and all you other Elk Hunters and Wannabes will truly relate to. Let's call it the Dictionary of Elk Camp Slang. It's gonna have some pretty odd entries for certain, and I'd love to have lots and lots of help writing this here book. You see, these slang terms can be pretty localized and some of the Elk Camp Slang that is really familiar to me might not be so easily understood by you, and so it goes the other direction as well.

Well, here goes, and in no order of importance nor alphabetically arranged. You see it really doesn't matter, you'll get the hang of it.

BUNG FODDER: This is the term used by many for the commonly known, toilet paper. See it really isn't all that odd, lets break down the term. Bung; being a slang term for manure, poo, doo doo, or s#*t. Fodder; being that part of the feed that would soak up the liquid part of the feed that makes it easier for the hogs to feed. There, see, it makes all the sense in the world, or at least the world of Elk Camp.

SHE'S A LEPER: This is the term used to characterize a lone Cow Elk feeding along the canyon wall with no other animals anywhere near her. Now I don't know why she's off by herself, maybe she does have a dread disease, or more likely, she's just found a right fine place to feed and doesn't feel the need to share her lunch.

MOUTHWASH: Ever heard of Peppermint Schnapps?

VITAMINS: Everyone knows that fruit is full of vitamins and other good stuff that's good for ya, right? Cranberries are no exception! Cranberries in the form of cranberry juice make it so much easier and enjoy gettin' those vitamins, and cranberry juice mixed with HRD vodka is all the better for sure.

THE ELK ARE WHERE YOU FIND EM: This is the term uttered by Elk hunters who have yet to see any Elk. You see, if you're still talkin' about findin' em, instead of talkin' about what you've already found, then you must not have found em yet. See what I mean?

THE SPIKE WAS DANCIN': This is the term spewed forth in an attempt to describe the circumstances as to why, for cryin' out loud, you didn't just shoot the bloomin' spike.

BILLY GOAT: Now normally you would think this is the term for a male goat. Nope, fraid not. This is what you call the Elk Hunter that climbs the steepest mountains, decends the deepest canyons, and generally logs more miles in one Elk Season as most of us do in 2 or 3 seasons.

BUNSEN: Ever use one of these little burners in science class in middle school. Nope, sorry, Bunsen is a much bigger burner. Normally used to start large backfires or to burn weeds along a farmer's fence line. Bunsen is used simply to easily start a fire in the woodstove inside a wall tent. If you are inexperienced, don't try this at home!!

FANNY PACK: I put this one in here for any Aussies or Kiwis who happen to read this blog. Here in the USA, a fanny is a rear end, a bottom, a buttox or your behind. Now I know that you folks call the front part of the female anatomy a fanny, so this definition is here to ease your collective minds. Just think Bum Bag every time an American says Fanny Pack, okay?

PEA SHOOTER: This is the term used to define what one Elk hunter may think of as too small a caliber to hunt Elk. It is not a straw used to blow spit wads at the back of Emmy Lou's head in history class.

HOT FOOTIN' IT: Now one way this is defined is by being in a hurry and taking quick steps cause you are in a hurry. Nope, not what I'm talkin' about here. Hot Footin' It is when the fire you set goes out, but the rock you built the fire on is still hot and you end up standing on the hot rock and melting a hole through the bottom of your boot. I have no idea where this definition came from, but I can feel, er I mean, understand it.

JUST FER DRILL: This term is used when you what to kill a little more time before the evening hunt and you decide to head down some trail that you've never seen Elk on, but, doggone it, you will some day.

FRIGGIN' WOLVES: This is how Elk Hunters refer to the States ineptitude in handling intrusive species that indescrimitively kill thousands of Elk each year. Ask me how I really feel??

Well, there's a start. If you have more, I'd love to hear em. Keep em comin, cause I know you've developed some of your own slang terms.

More Gadgets and Gear

I don't know why, but it seems that no matter how much gear or how many gadgets you have, you still don't seem to have the one piece or part that you need. Either that or the gismo you have should have been replaced. Yeah, you've been there, you know you have, or is it just me???

Back when Shep was a pup (that means a while back), I was headed to Elk Camp in my trusty FJ40 Landcruiser. It was the third day of Elk season and I was anxious to get there since I had had to work the first couple days of the season. I went to work in in my hunting clothes and hit the road right afterward. The trip to Camp wasn't really all that long, but the anticipation just made it seem like forever and a day.

I pull into camp with about an hour's daylight left and really don't expect to see anyone around camp with daylight still burnin'. But there they were. This only meant one thing; they had downed an Elk or maybe two. Sure enough, I was right! Randy and his dad had gotten back to camp just ahead of me and were attempting to hang the critters on the meat pole. By attempting, I mean that this chore was getting harder by the minute. You see, the rope they brought along for this very purpose wasn't going to hang a small deer, let alone a Bull Elk and a Cow as well. Just as I pull up the rope breaks......again.......and the Elk go tumbling to the ground.......again. This is not working as it was supposed to, nope not at all. Well the old Landruiser had a 4-ton PTO winch on it and I pulled up and we hauled the Elk up onto the meat pole with ease, what a deal. Sure beats bustin' a rotten rope.........again.

That isn't the end of the gear troubles for this trip, not at all. You see, it sure is nice to have a PTO winch, and plenty of cable to pull yourself out of trouble or haul a critter up into a tree or heck, hook it up to a potato digger if you so choose. Problem is gettin' a balled up in gumbo mud when there isn't a tree or big ole rock to be found to hook onto to give you a little helpin' hand. See I figured I'd head down this gumbo mud road and take a look see. I went on down the road and got out and went on a little hike and hunted around for a couple of hours and then decided to head back up. Well when I get back to the gumbo mud section of this here road the ole Landcruiser just isn't having anything to do with getting back up to the main road. I'm slippin' and slidin' and makin' some big ole ruts and there's this fella comes by on the main road and he just sits there a 1/2 mile away and watches my futility. He's likely wondering what kind of an idiot would try to drive down there when it's wet out. But me, I already know what kind of an idiot it would take. Well, I'm not completely without an idea to get myself outta this predicament, cause I've been there before. Not on this road, but, well, I'll tell ya about that one another day, or maybe I'll just keep it to myself, ya never know! I head off and gather up some pine and fir bows and stuff em in the ruts to try and get some traction and after about 3 whirls at this I finally get some momentum and up the hill the Landcruiser roars. Whew............

But wait, there is yet another gear and gadget mishap to come. The next day, I'm on the mountain by myself. You see Randy and Ron had to head out and along with them went the trailer full of gear, so I borrow Ron's Coleman stove to make cookin' a bit easier. I figure I'll sleep in the Landcruiser if it's too cold or rainy and I'll be good as gold.

I climbed up above this saddle and was sittin' there watching a game trail that looked as if it had been the main travel path for many a critter goin' over the saddle. Sure enough, along about 1/2 hour before dusk along comes this Cow Elk. I hunker down and wait for the Bull that surely must be with her. Wait, there comes another one, and another and another and, dad-burn-it, they are all Cows. Thirteen Cows to be exact and not a single antler. It didn't matter how long and hard I stared at them through my binos, I just couldn't get any of them to sprout horns. Well, they never see me, so I figure, this is a pretty good spot, and I back off and head down to the trusty Landcruiser just after dark. I pull out the borrowed camp stove and get ready to fix up a can of beans and some bacon for dinner. I fill the tank with white gas and pump up the pressure. I light a match and then turn the knob to allow some gas into the burner. Right here is where things go all to pieces. You see, I've never had a Coleman stove do this before, it turns into a torch with a flame about 3-4 ft high and I'm pretty sure this isn't normal. I get the knob turned back off, but not before scorching the bloomin' lid to the stove nice and black. Anyway, I let it cool down and I just put the thing away. Cold beans and Vienna Sausage for me that night. This stove never pulled that trick again for me or Ron or anyone, but it always had that big ole black scorch mark on it to remind ya that it could.

Well, I never saw another Elk that trip. I suppose the screaming and the big flame out on the Coleman stove scared em off, I don't know. Main thing is we came home safe again, despite our best efforts otherwise. More lessons learned, more gear and gadgets to be obtained. And thus the journey continuous.............

Gadgets & Gear Galore

Why oh why do Elk hunters think they need to bring something new to Elk Camp every single year? Pretty silly question, isn't it? There really is no answer to this question, but there likely are many, many theories.

I think back to some of the first Elk Camps I was lucky enough to be a part of, and to tell you the truth, the accomodations and comfort were, shall we say, rough and, well, rougher. One I remember from 20 plus years ago was particularly rough. We had teamed up with a couple of other fellers that were familiar with the country we were wanting to hunt. Our assembling of gear was a bit comical, to say the least. First of all we didn't have a tent, we didn't have a tarp, and we certainly weren't staying in a cabin or hut. So here we are headed into the high country without shelter, why we are still around to tell some of these stories is certainly a miracle. But survive we have, and we will continue to tell old tales til we are, well, old.



The nights were pretty darn cold, and luckily it didn't rain, not too much anyway. Wet gear is a bummer for sure. To make matters worse, the first night found Greg, one of our new hunting buddies, without a sleeping bag, or a blanket. Nope, he didn't bring a thing. Now it wasn't all his fault, you see, Denny was supposed to have shown up at camp that evening, but he didn't, and along with Denny, neither did Greg's sleeping bag. We did bring along something to build a fire, so at least we had flames and smoke. More on the flames part later. We've got a fire ring built of rocks and Greg figures he'll just curl up by the warm rocks. Which works pretty good until there's a sprinkle of rain and on top of that the hot rocks are melting the frost in the frozen ground and after a few hours Greg is curled up in the mud.



By the time morning rolls around and Denny rolls into camp, we, and particularly Greg, are fairly miserable and definately in need of some gear and gadgets. We get warmed up and shove some eats in our bellies and we are off. We are off to get our bucks. Now I know that this here blog is about Elk Camp and Elk Hunting, but I just couldn't resist telling you this tale. We head off along this hog back we refer to as The Imnaha Divide or Beeler's Ridge. This thing is steep on both sides and at some points only about 6' wide. The views are magnifecent to say the least and because of those views, you can only imagine what a hike down into these big ole parellel canyons would be like. Well we found out for sure about two hours into our hunt. Greg pulls up and pops this 3 pt muley that is standin' just below the ridge. This buck doesn't drop right there or slide a little ways and get hung up in some brush, OH NO, he slides and tumbles and slides some more and tumbles a whole lot more. Off down into this big ole ravine and out of sight. Well, Randy and Greg and I head on down after this critter and it is steep and lots of shale rock, and well, it is a miserable climb down. All the while we're thinkin' about what its gonna be like to climb back up out there with a deer.

Well, we finally find the critter, get it field dressed and split in half. Do we have any packs with us? Heck no, who needs gear and gadgets anyway, right? Well Greg takes the head end, Randy takes the tail end, and me, I'm the feller who winds up haulin 3 rifles and two fanny packs (bum bags for you Aussies and Kiwis). On the way out my pack comes open and I spread part of my gear down the canyon. Of course I don't know this until I've gotten quite a ways up the slope. I take off all my load and head back down the canyon picking up matches and compass and bung fodder, but the only thing I cannot find is the knife I had gotten from my Grandpa. I searched and searched, but never was able to find it. I still think about it every time I'm in the woods and it bugs me to this very day.

Well, it's one heck of a climb and we are havin' day dreams about chain saw winches and dear carts and all manner of helpful gadgets and gear. The cold night of the night before had also definately burned off and it was unseasonably warm to boot. By the time we are up to the top of the ridge we are out of water and still havin' about 2 hrs of hiking Beeler Ridge before we get back to camp. About 1/2 way to camp there is this water trough and a spring runnin' into it. I'll tell you what, that spring water was probably the best I've ever drunk.

Well we get back and there is this funny lookin' rectangular charred black imprint on the ground over the top of the fire pit. It's about 6' long and 30" wide and looks pretty odd. Yeah, its just the same size as the cot mattress that ole Randy had borrowed from his dad. The wind had picked it up and laid it down right smack dab in the middle of the fire pit and it was now no more than a reminder of a softer nights sleep.

Lets see now, no tent, missing a sleeping bag, no meat packs, no deer cart, a lost knife, no more cot, what else could we forget or ruin?? Well fortunately for this group, we had pretty well reduced our losses at this point. Along about dusk we shoot another young buck, this time I get the honors and he's a nice forkey horn. We haul him up out of the canyon after dark using a lantern to guide our way out. Hey, we remembered something, we did have a lantern! That was it for our taking of deer on this hunt, and poor ole Greg even had a sleeping bag for the rest of the trip. Lots of lessons learned and put to use in later hunts and hikes. We're all still found roaming the woods every Fall in search of Elk, Deer, Grouse, Varmints, Etc. Lesser guys would have given the whole idea up after a trip or two, but we have perservered and lovin' Camp more and more each year. Get on out there and enjoy it with us, you'll be glad you did!