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Elk hunting is for the birds!
After 12 years of building points for elk in Arizona, I decided to cash in my chips. When the draw results were published, I found out I drew my second choice. I was both elated and anxious as this would be my first time hunting in Arizona.
I made a few calls to some people whose opinion I valued. It appeared I may have picked a great year to draw a tag. The season dates were a week later than normal which is good for hunting the rut. The moon phase looked good and most importantly, Arizona had good precipitation early in the year, which translates to superior antler growth.
I started researching the area I drew and bought a map as I planned on a do it yourself hunt. The more I thought about it, the more I started thinking about getting some help. I had waited 12 years and invested license fees/applications, etc. I would be hunting alone in the AZ heat and would surely want help if I put an elk on the ground so meat wouldn’t spoil. I considered having some contacts on standby if I connected and sharing the prized meat in return for their help. I decided to contract the services of Shadow Valley Outfitters for 7 of the 14 day hunt. They knew the area well and would scout before my arrival and during my hunt. They would be available to help get the elk out of the field if I was fortunate enough to connect. I would still provide my own food and accommodations. Yes, it would cost some extra coin, but I started looking at this as an investment. I was already in too deep to make a poor decision. I wasn’t trying to put a tag on the next world record, but I was after a respectable representation for what the unit held and nothing less.
Upon arriving to the unit, I was surprised at the amount of hunting pressure for the limited amount of tags issued. The unit is large, but it appeared 98% of the other hunters and their friends were hunting the same public areas as me. I would get up at 2:45 most mornings and leave camp shortly after to be the first one in the field. In AZ things are a little different than what I’m accustomed to. It doesn’t matter whether you’re the first to arrive at a spot or the last. It’s public ground and everyone has the same right to be there as you do. Whether or not it’s the courteous or respectful thing to do is a different story. Opening morning, my guide, Joe and I are the first ones on the ridge, well before daylight. Our plan is to glass a nice bull from our vantage point and sneak down and hopefully get to meet him personally and take some photos with him. Much to my dismay, before the sun was completely up, there were a total of 7 other people within a stones throw of us doing the same thing. It looked like a social gathering in the wee hours of the morning. Everyone was cordial, but a lot of talking was going on. I had never experienced anything like this before. It was more like a wildlife viewing area. I kind of shook my head, wondering what would happen if a nice bull was spotted. Sadly, I already knew that answer.
The hunting methods employed would be sitting tanks (water holes), chasing bugles, spot/stalk and calling. Our plan was to locate a good bull and try to get away from the hunting pressure. I sat a tank one evening and had a spike bull come in to about 5 yards. Shortly after, just at last light, a young 3×4 bull came in at 20 yards and put on a real show. He thrashed his antlers in the water stirring it up. Not completely satisfied, he used his front hooves and stomped the water. Before it was over, he was rolling around on his back like a Labrador Retriever. I had a front row seat and was loving every second of it.
After 6 days of hunting, I had a few close range encounters with bulls, but nothing I was interested in. On the 7th morning I was up early again. The plan was to sit a tank where a decent bull had been spotted earlier. In the blind well before sun up, I sat there wondering if this bull or another one would show itself. Just after sunrise, I caught movement and watched as a coyote came to the waters edge for refreshment. I enjoyed watching him until he disappeared over the embankment. Shortly after, I was contacted by Joe. He said Bob, the other guide, had located a bull. It was still early so we made our way over to Bob’s location. Bob said he never saw the bull, but he was bugling off and on and sounded decent. The wind was blowing pretty good and we all figured we had nothing to lose. Bob made a few calls and the bull responded with a bugle. The wind was steady and in our favor. Bob would stay back to call while Joe and I would try to move in closer. The terrain was hilly with thick cedar. You couldn’t take a step without hitting a rock. The bull was reluctant to bugle, but we were able to close in before he got tight lipped. We were at a distance where a wrong move or shift in the wind would ruin everything. He had gone silent for awhile, so Joe tried some cow calling. We needed him vocal to help pin point his exact location. I moved in even closer as Joe and Bob stayed back. A fair amount of time had passed without a bugle, but I thought he was about 50 yards away from me. We had been at this cat and mouse game for about 1.5 hours and it looked liked Mr. Elk was winning. Even at this distance it’s too thick to see anything and it’s hard to hear well with the wind blowing. I caught movement behind me as Joe and Bob cautiously make their way toward me. I silently gesture in the direction where I think he’s bedded up. Much to my surprise, he lets out a bugle and has changed location. I sneak forward a little at a time as we’re right on top of him. I ease forward a little more and the ground erupts. My heart sinks as I know I just jumped him. Immediately, a cow call is made and he stops on a dime and spins around facing me head on. All I see through the thick brush is part of his head, antler and some front leg. I’m in a slight crouch as that’s the position I went to when he busted out. I’m frozen in this position, but don’t dare move. I’m wondering how long before my legs go numb and I just fall over. This stalemate seems to go on forever. I’m planning ahead wondering if he’ll move and give me a shot. If he moves toward me, there’s a small opening I would have to thread my arrow through. If he moves to his right, he could step into the only clear shooting lane available. I had guesstimated the distance at 40 yards if he came out. I hear a bird calling loudly directly behind me. I think to myself this is genius. Joe or Bob is making a bird call to relax the bull and let him know all is well. After what seemed like an eternity, he took two steps to his right into the thick strip of cover and disappeared. I dropped to one knee while drawing back my bow. If he continues through the narrow strip I should have a clear shot and I don’t want to risk movement and spook him. As if on cue, he steps out broadside ever so slightly angling away.. As I’m settling my 40 yard pin, Joe ranges him and whispers 50. Within an instant, my razor tipped arrow is on its way. I watch as the arrow finds its mark and continues onward. The bull takes off straight away on a run. I turn around to look back at Joe and Bob. We’re all in total amazement and disbelief to what we just witnessed. We all had big smiles and congratulated each other. Joe witnessed the shot and confirmed it was good. I told them the bird call was amazing and was a genius technique. They started laughing and said a bird just about perched on them and started calling. Either way, it was perfect timing.
After a short waiting period we started following the track. I had a complete pass through and knew the shot placement was good. I was nervous as the only thing I remember when the bull stepped out into the clearing was the heavy mass of his left antler. My eyes saw the mass and my brain gave me the green light. I jokingly said I hope he has an antler on his right side as well. As we approached my bull, I wrapped my hands around his antlers and marveled at how unique and beautiful he was. He was heavy antlered with 7 points on his left side and 6 on his right.. I was elated! I gave thanks to God for this beautiful and majestic beast he created and for my arrow flying true and finding its mark.
Steven P. Boswell
Boswell’s Custom Rifles
Great story Steve. Congratulations on an awesome animal.
Thank you Scott! Best of luck to you this season.