When I first started into hunting, I heard everyone talk about hunting camp. So this year, even though I was solo hunting, I decided to have my first elk camp. I honestly, couldn't have loved it more. So much, I thought about just staying all of September, because reality is when I am out there, I never want to leave.
The pressure from other hunters is so unpredictable these days. There are times where people are in early and every spot is taken in these over the counter units. Then there are moments when, there is no one. I knew the spot I wanted that would give me a little privacy from everyone since I would be out there alone. So when I went out opening day I threw my tent up on my way out.
There she was in all her glory. Elk camp. I was so excited, I couldn't think straight. Meals were planned and this gave me drive time to sleep and pretty much just go. I got out a little later than I wanted from work, so I made the most of it.
Spent some time fishing and shooting. What more could a girl want?!!
While I was shooting a man walked into my camp to ask what unit he was in. I mean you are out in the middle of the mountains and you don't know what unit you are in. He then preceded to ask me where the elk were. With my hand near my pistol, I told him he needed to put in the work himself for the elk. He said so over in those trees, and I told him sure over in those trees. He quickly left, he lingered nearby for a bit. I was thankful that night my parents brought my boys out for a bit for a campfire.
Saturday was the first full day out. I got in early and heard bugles as soon as I walked in. Based on the cameras I had put out over the summer I knew there patterns fairly well and knew they were tracking through my area. I found a good amount of fresh sign, glassed and checked cameras. The rut was not in full swing so they were not answering calls like I had hoped. But I knew they were close. I headed out first day, excited for the next.
Sunday I hiked in, I decided to stay close to a passage that had a lot of activity on my camera. When I hunt I like to hike, I like to put in the miles. I will go to the elk instead of waiting for me. That method does not always serve me well.
The one struggle solo hunting is your head is on a constant swivel. I knew where they were bedding and getting water, so Sunday I decided this was the spot. As I watched this passage, I felt it. I NEVER heard it. I sat facing north, I turned my shoulder and there he was a bull. A big bull, one on my cam I have been dreaming about. He was heading west to east south of me, and the wind it couldn't have been more in my favor.
So as he passed through a few trees, I stood and turned up. every time his head went behind a tree, I made a movement. I found a spot, I ranged. And said to wait until he got to that spot. And take the shot. I drew back and what seemed forever waited. I heard the arrow hit. I felt in my head that was a good, clean shot. He kicked his leg. He seemed a little shaken for a second and then started walking.
I put a second arrow in and my arms were shaking so bad it didn't go far. So I rushed. I moved in on him to get a third shot. I moved in to fast and spooked him.
At this point, I still didn't know where the shot landed, going back I don't know what I was thinking. the aisle wasn't clear. It was not a good shooting lane. I had more open opportunities and I took a bad judgement call. Then I went and ranged the spot again. I am confident I ranged the tree instead of the bull.
Right after he spooked, I saw it, drops of blood. My hopes went up. My hopes that the shot was clean. I went back to the original shot location and found the blood splatter and no arrow in sight. So the search began.
The shot went off around 2:30 pm. I followed the blood trail for a few hundred yards. And then I lost it. I called family, they said they were coming to help. I still had hope I was going to be packing out an elk. I pinned my blood across my OnX and kept as close to the trail as I could. Then the rain started. Then the lightening and thunder. I more than six hours in the pouring rain with some incredible family that came out those last few hours and we combed every direction for a sign of him.
They finally convinced me to pack up camp and head home. There was no way I was getting dry or staying dry at camp. So reluctantly I did.
The next day I talked to a dear friend and she walked me through everything, looked over the blood and said let's go. So with her and my sister in the pouring rain we went back out and searched for him. With tears in my eyes, I walked away empty handed. Discouraged that I not only messed the shot up but that I may have a wounded bull somewhere out there.
My nerves were beyond shaken and I began to doubt everything about my capabilities. I had some amazing people talk sense into me. That this wasn't the end and I could continue on. Within the next week when I went out and beautiful sign from God. My arrow. It was buried deep in a mound of dirt to the right of my shot.
The scenario, that makes the most sense is I hit a tree. It diverted the arrow and hit his rear end. which is what caused him to kick his leg when I shot. The arrow was so far to the right of where he was it wasn't possible to clear through him and end up there.
I walked away with empty hands but full of knowledge. I ranged the shot wrong which caused my arrow to divert, I rushed my animal when I should have taken my time. Solo hunting is hard, all while learning to hunt. I am not where I want to be but this I know each step is one step closer.
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