The next morning found me again plodding across the cow meadow towards a smaller back drainage that entered just prior to the larger Y-Shaped one I hunted the first morning. I wanted to stay well clear of the "loud-mouth" camp at the head of the valley and figured I would circle around after gaining altitude back in the direction of camp.
The small ridge I had to cross to get to the drainage was very "elky" again. Nice dark timber and trails from the meadow below. Again, no fresh elk sign. I stepped over a log and noticed something sticking out of the duff. It was a carbon arrow broken near the tip, fletched with 4 small plastic veins looking like it sat there at least a year. I sat wondering if it was a missed elk, or a shot at a grouse for dinner.
Continuing on and over the ridge into the cool green drainage, I thought things looked very good. I saw the grasses freshly clipped, many trails with fresh tracks and lots of poop. The only issue was everything is black angus poop! Still I was wired and ready. I nearly jumped out of my boots when a grouse busted up about 30 yards away. No shot and it flew to the next unit.
I skirted the drainage and continued to hunt upwards into the crease of the mountains. As I neared the top, I saw a large boulder that stuck out and reminded me of the famous scene where Fred Bear was crouched behind a similar perfectly placed boulder when he shot his large brown bear. I decided to sneak up to it, and when I arrived I caught movement in my peripheral vision to the left! My God! There, not 20 yards away, was a cow's rear end with head down and feeding. I had done it! I followed the sign, made a great sneak, the wind was perfect, and there was the animal in perfect bow range completely unaware as I stood behind the boulder. The one last issue however, was that this was not a cow elk, but a "moo cow". ARRRRGH!
Continuing high above camp to the North on steep and then steeper terrain, I did hear a bugle around 10 am down near the meadow, but I was almost certain was another hunter. Perhaps the two hunters we saw at the trail crest a few days before? Anyway, I headed down in that direction anyway, and came no closer to any elk or sign.
Back at camp I was discussing the lack of sign with Neil when Dave strolls into camp. We had not seen him or Jeff for several days now, and he told us of their adventures hunting about 5 miles South of us. They also had encounters with moose, but like me, only one sighting of fresh poop and no elk. Lots of other hunter activity also.
It was time to make a decision. Either we would all have to head many miles down South and farther from the vehicle / trailhead, or go back down and find new territory. Too far South and there were other access roads and trails into the area.
We opted to go down, burn half a day hiking out and have the rest of the week to try to find some elk. Dave would go back and find Jeff, hunt one last evening, and join us at the campground down below. We were here to kill elk, but we needed to find them first.
Neil broke out a few large marshmallows that we roasted for energy as we broke down camp. They were a good lightweight treat.
Chris did a much better job of packing on the way down, lowering the center of gravity. Still, I carried the stove just to give him an extra few pounds break.
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