I haven't had time to post since my trip but I thought I would share my story. I have been enjoying everyone's writeups so here is another one to mull over to help you pass the workday 
I made the 14.5 drive on 9/6, not to return home until 9/16. New moon, elk rut, and 3 tags in my pocket made the non-stop drive pretty easy. We began our hunt the next day, a 14 hour sit on a water hole. We ended up watching a small bear hit the wallow at dark which was a first for me. The next 5 days were absolutely brutal. Muzzleloader hunters were everywhere. The elk werent talking at all. They were nowhere to be found to be completely honest. Late nights and long, uneventful days were the norm, and it was tough but very rewarding in a strange way. The cool air, good hikes with friends, and the dull hope of knowing it only takes 30 seconds to change everything kept me going. We sat through rain and hail, hot afternoons, and brisk mornings. Keep going, keep trying, something has to change...
Wednesday evening, it finally did. We split up to find some mulies. My buddy was scouting a few meadows and I was sitting on a different pond. He came back about 40 minutes before dark with exciting news. There was a forky and 2 does grazing in the meadow, and we had time to set up for a shot. Off we went. As we got close, I took my boots off to complete the stalk in my socks. I blew the stalk at about 60 yards, and I was frustrated. They bumped, but didnt blow out. We snuck around the hill and came in from the opposite end. There he is....nock an arrow...hes staring us down...range him....44 yards....draw, anchor, limb in the way!!! Sonuva....
At this point my killer instinct kicked in. Before I realized it, I pulled some matrix move to make my arrow clear the branch and dumped the arrow. In slow motion, the arrow arched and dropped right into the chest cavity of that buck. I couldnt believe it. Off he bounded. Finally, FINALLY I drew some blood!
A rough 2 hour track later with pin drops of blood and I was touching velvet. What a rush! One tag punched!
The next day we processed him and hunted the evening for bear. Nada.
Friday morning was my last day to hunt, and it came early. We took off to a spot where we had bumped an elk earlier in the week. We set up a stalk and softly cow called. Nada. Same song and dance, but we kept after it. As we rounded the corner into the small meadow near where we had our last encounter, I stopped my buddy. 30 yards away was a massive 5x5, and he was coming our way. We were dead in the open. Our eyes met at the same time and both us and the elk froze for what felt like a full minute. It was now or never. I drew back. As soon as I anchored, he bolted. What a kick in the nuts! This bull was every bit of 330". I couldnt believe it.
We left out of there and made a plan to try a new area for the evening, not know what was in store for us...
We set up on the point of an L-shaped meadow and began to call and rake as the shadows grew. Within 20 minutes, we had a locate bugle sound off about 200 yards away. Could this be it? Within seconds, I could see antlers coming our way. A young 3x4 bull. I ranged him and were he was headed...30 yards....chip shot! He continued our way and as soon he cleared the spruce I was tucked behind, I let it rip. Unbeknownst to me, my buddie's wife (who was sitting next to me) had drawn also and our arrows actually struck the bull at the exact same time. With 30 minutes of light left in my 10 day hunt, we finally had a bull down. WHAT A RUSH!
We were up until 5 am that night breaking him down. I got a 3 hour nap before I had to head back to Texas.
I'll never miss another year going to those mountains and truly earning my kills. To put an arrow into two public land animals was a dream come true for me. I apologize for the long story, but I just wanted to share the experience. Now for the good part:
I made the 14.5 drive on 9/6, not to return home until 9/16. New moon, elk rut, and 3 tags in my pocket made the non-stop drive pretty easy. We began our hunt the next day, a 14 hour sit on a water hole. We ended up watching a small bear hit the wallow at dark which was a first for me. The next 5 days were absolutely brutal. Muzzleloader hunters were everywhere. The elk werent talking at all. They were nowhere to be found to be completely honest. Late nights and long, uneventful days were the norm, and it was tough but very rewarding in a strange way. The cool air, good hikes with friends, and the dull hope of knowing it only takes 30 seconds to change everything kept me going. We sat through rain and hail, hot afternoons, and brisk mornings. Keep going, keep trying, something has to change...
Wednesday evening, it finally did. We split up to find some mulies. My buddy was scouting a few meadows and I was sitting on a different pond. He came back about 40 minutes before dark with exciting news. There was a forky and 2 does grazing in the meadow, and we had time to set up for a shot. Off we went. As we got close, I took my boots off to complete the stalk in my socks. I blew the stalk at about 60 yards, and I was frustrated. They bumped, but didnt blow out. We snuck around the hill and came in from the opposite end. There he is....nock an arrow...hes staring us down...range him....44 yards....draw, anchor, limb in the way!!! Sonuva....
At this point my killer instinct kicked in. Before I realized it, I pulled some matrix move to make my arrow clear the branch and dumped the arrow. In slow motion, the arrow arched and dropped right into the chest cavity of that buck. I couldnt believe it. Off he bounded. Finally, FINALLY I drew some blood!
A rough 2 hour track later with pin drops of blood and I was touching velvet. What a rush! One tag punched!
The next day we processed him and hunted the evening for bear. Nada.
Friday morning was my last day to hunt, and it came early. We took off to a spot where we had bumped an elk earlier in the week. We set up a stalk and softly cow called. Nada. Same song and dance, but we kept after it. As we rounded the corner into the small meadow near where we had our last encounter, I stopped my buddy. 30 yards away was a massive 5x5, and he was coming our way. We were dead in the open. Our eyes met at the same time and both us and the elk froze for what felt like a full minute. It was now or never. I drew back. As soon as I anchored, he bolted. What a kick in the nuts! This bull was every bit of 330". I couldnt believe it.
We left out of there and made a plan to try a new area for the evening, not know what was in store for us...
We set up on the point of an L-shaped meadow and began to call and rake as the shadows grew. Within 20 minutes, we had a locate bugle sound off about 200 yards away. Could this be it? Within seconds, I could see antlers coming our way. A young 3x4 bull. I ranged him and were he was headed...30 yards....chip shot! He continued our way and as soon he cleared the spruce I was tucked behind, I let it rip. Unbeknownst to me, my buddie's wife (who was sitting next to me) had drawn also and our arrows actually struck the bull at the exact same time. With 30 minutes of light left in my 10 day hunt, we finally had a bull down. WHAT A RUSH!
We were up until 5 am that night breaking him down. I got a 3 hour nap before I had to head back to Texas.
I'll never miss another year going to those mountains and truly earning my kills. To put an arrow into two public land animals was a dream come true for me. I apologize for the long story, but I just wanted to share the experience. Now for the good part:
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