The 6th day of the hunt we had narrowed down a herd of 13 elk, with at least one bull, which we were unsure if it was legal or not. We knew it would be a long hike from the truck. We had about 3.5 miles to hike to get where we wanted to go with 3 ravines in our way. The satellite map showed a small rock outcrop with an opening across from the steep meadow hillside we had seen the elk on. We got out of the truck and took off with a sense of purpose. There were two other trucks in the parking lot when we got there and I was positive I had seen 2 people in orange just outside the range of the headlights when we pulled in. It was one of the first times in the 15 years of hunting with Justin that he told me to slow down a little bit. The excitement level was running high. That was, until we hit that first hill taking us into the first of 2 ravines. I knew it was going to be tough, especially in the pitch black with red lights on. We tackled the first hill, side-hilled around the ravine tackled the second hill. At this point I was running out of gas and we were running out of time. The sun was starting to come up, I was sure a gunshot would ring out any minute now and our hopes of harvesting an elk would be dashed. We were at the top of the 2nd ravine making our way across a game trail to the top of the 3rd hill where the rock outcrop was. Justin was ahead of me at this point by about 50 yards, me outpacing him didn’t last long. As he was walking he slipped a little bit and his trekking poles saved him from eating it, one didn’t survive though. I heard a loud snap! In front of me, only to look up and see his brand new Leupold carbon trekking pole snapped in half. We were close enough now that I thought we may have blown it. He threw the pole to the ground in annoyance, we stopped to talk about a plan of approaching the peak of the hill.

We decided it would be best to just sneak our way up to the rock and keep as low as possible using what little brush and trees as cover. As we approached the rocks there was a small ledge about 2 feet high that gave us plenty of cover. Justin set himself up in an area and immediately started glassing the elk on the hillside. I moved 20 yards below him and did the same. I ranged the closest elk in the heard from our spot, she was at around 500 yards, a shot we had practiced many times over the summer. We found the small bull mixed in with the herd. It had only been legal shooting light for a few minutes, so the sun still wasn’t quite up yet enough to tell exactly if the bull was legal or not. Justin had first shooting rights since I had first shooting rights in Arizona. So it was up to him weather he wanted to shoot or pass on a legal animal. As the sun began to show itself it became clear that the bull was just a small fork-horn (2×2) with no brow tines. Now we were left with 12 legal cows to shoot, and they were moving towards the woods. Justin had decided that he did not want to shoot a cow. I, on the other hand, did not care. I had 2nd shot opportunity and we were on the 2nd to last day of the hunt. I whispered over to him “are you going to shoot a cow?”. “No, but just wait” he answered. I knew what he was thinking. A big bull was hanging out with the herd, hiding himself in the brush until the last minute. I was less optimistic. Seeing the herd 2 days in a row with no bull indicated to me that if there was a bull with the herd he had already been harvested.

I ranged the elk, now at a little over 600 yards and only 7 were in the open now, the rest had disappeared into the woods. I clicked the CDS dial on my Leupold VX-6 to 625 yards. A shot farther than I had ever taken with a rifle. The elk seemed like such big targets through the 18x scope. I steadied my rifle on the top of my Mystery Ranch frame and imagined squeezing a round off. The rest was solid and I felt confident in my ability to take the shot. A good 30 minutes has elapsed since we first settled in to our spots to watch the elk. No big bull had appeared yet and I was beginning to think we’d lose our opportunity at an elk if one of us didn’t take a shot. I pressed Justin one more time “Do you want to take a cow or not? Because if you don’t I am shooting”. He looked at me, I could tell he was disappointed that a bull didn’t come out yet, but he relented, “go ahead if you want to shoot, shoot”. I turned back to the elk took one last range reading, a deep breath, steadied the cross hairs on the biggest one’s shoulder and squeezed the trigger. The suppressed 300 PRC had done it’s job beautifully. She immediately fell to the ground and began rolling. From our vantage point the hill did not appear that steep, we would shortly find out exactly how steep it was. She tumbled and tumbled for what seemed like half the distance of the hill where she finally came to a halt. My shot placement was deadly, but slightly high, she had not expired yet. When she came to a stop I centered the crosshairs on her chest again and squeezed a second round off. The rock behind her erupted from the ground. Unbeknownst to me at the time I had forgotten my scope was still set at 625 yards. It startled her enough to push off of her position and continue her roll down the hill. Annoyed at myself for allowing a wounded animal to suffer I took another shot as she was descending the hill and again missed high. She finally came to a stop behind a tree at about 200 yards from where we were sitting. I took a 4th and final shot, again missing high. In the excitement the CDS dial had completely escaped my mind. The whole ordeal was probably less than 45 seconds but it was weighing on me. I wanted to put the cow down as quickly and humanely as possible. My gun was now empty and I was rifling through my bag trying to find another round, the CDS had now entered my mind and I zeroed my scope to the 150 yard sight-in distance. I yelled to Justin “Put one in her to put her down” his 300 PRC barked just once and the job was done. The cow let out one last groan and again began to roll until she reached a dense patch of trees.

We made our way down the steep hill to a creek bottom. We joked that this must’ve been where our friend the other day had been talking about. There were a number of old elk carcasses and bones throughout the bottom. We started up the hill to where we had last seen the elk fall. The trek up was farther than I had anticipated she was wedged behind a tree on a hill impossibly steep to butcher an animal. Our only option was to get her out from behind the tree and roll her the rest of the way down the hill to flatter ground. We tied some 550 cord to her back feet and together we hefted her around the tree. Letting go before we could be dragged down the mountain with her. She landed at the bottom on a nice flat area where butchering would be easy. We decided to take our time, tag the elk, drink some water, and get some pictures before starting the butchering. As we were sitting there getting some pictures we saw two other hunters approach from across the creek.