Arizona Self-Guided Late Season Muzzleloader Elk Hunt
Day 3: Up at 4:30 AM as usual. We have decided to part from our normal hunting area. Lot’s of sign but simply no elk. I am
struggling with the decision to head out to another mountain or into the large canyon system. My indecision continues up to the
T in the road. Right and we head to the mountain – Left and we head to the canyon. Okay, we go left. And drive the main road
to the turn-off and then onto a smaller dead end road that runs along a Quiet Area. The Quiet Area is closed to travel by
motorized vehicles. Most hunters access it closer to the main highway. I have chosen a route further in where the road is not
quite so good with the thought that there will be fewer hunters and maybe the guys to the south will push elk our way. There are
lots of campers along the road but nobody parked in my spot.
We get into the woods right at daybreak. Our plan is to hike along the edge of a small canyon so that we can glass both sides.
There is a small mountain to the south with lots of semi-open grassland between the mountain and canyon. It is cooler this
morning and there is a swirling wind that masks our footsteps. So we move quickly given the added cover. The wind is crazy
and swings from the back of our necks to the front of our faces in seconds. We will just have to deal with it. As usual, elk sign is
abundant – but are they here?
About 8:00 AM our small canyon has leveled out and we approach the edge of the main canyon system. It is miles long and
very deep. We have an ideal situation to hike and glass wide expanses of territory. Within 30 minutes I have our first elk of the
day spotted. They are very far away and it is impossible to tell with the 10X binocular if they are bulls. But at least we now have
three elk in view. We press forward on along the canyon trying to read the nearby ridges for an access route to intercept the
elk. Working our way I glass the canyon bottom and sides for closer options. Soon the canyon opens into an enormous bowl
with steep walls on three sides. Admiring the view I continue to glass and notice what appear to be legs deep in the shadows of
the canyon bottom. Seconds later the bull takes a step and confirms my suspicion. He turns his head and the sun picks up his
antler. He is a bruiser. Even from this distance we can tell he is worthy of any effort. Erik can’t see without the binocular so he
takes a look while I settle down. He is pumped too and we try to dissect the terrain to figure out how to get down on him. The
wind is at our backs again and seems to be holding which means we will have to travel past him on the ridge and drop down
behind him and try to catch up.
Okay, now we have a plan. And within 100 yards walk rush right into a herd of elk. Of course they are spooked. I drop to one
knee and shoulder the rifle as Erik looks for antler. But they are all cows. About a dozen as near as we could tell. And they are
running right down into the canyon where the bruiser is. We have no way of telling if they will keep running and take him along
so we decide to press on any way. As we travel forward we keep our landmarks in view. They are several dead pine trees and
a big grassy patch on the opposing canyon wall. When we are parallel with the landmarks we plan on cutting straight in hoping
to come in slightly behind the bull. It is our only option given the bad wind. But we have a small problem. The canyon wall is at
about a 70-degree angle. Kind of steep but there is nothing else to do but go down. On our butts that is. We can take a step
or two and then sit down so that we won’t fall forward or slide too fast. It is tedious but we agree that stealth is necessary given
that we have lost the position of the bull. We have the landmarks so we know where he was but we don’t know where he is. The
pace is slow but the canyon wall starts to level and soon we are sneaking across the bottom. Erik uses the rangefinder and
judges our distance to be within 200 yards of the bulls’ last position. The wind is still swirling and is generally bad. But the
canyon drops off again in the nearby distance. And past that drop off is where we last saw the bruiser. So we have good cover
and should come in on top of and slightly behind him assuming that he continued to keep moving in the same direction. The
pace is very slow.
And then Erik whispers to me: “Don’t move. He is behind you. Turn and shoot!” So I turn and there is a bull elk about 50-yards
away. He notices the movement and stops broadside. Lucky for him there are three trees covering his vitals so a shot is
impossible. But he doesn’t appear to be terribly spooked so I wait with the rifle at the ready. At 50-yards he fills up the 2.5X
scope. And then he takes a step forward. I have a neck shot and nearly take it. But wait, wait. He now turns and walks straight
at us. No shot except for head on. I’d have to drill him through the brisket. So wait, wait. At 40-yards he turns slightly and
gives me a fair quartering shot and the muzzleloader roars. As he turns I notice a slight limp but he is off and running. And
there are two smaller bulls behind him that I had not even noticed until now. I stand there soaking it all in. It was a good shot.
Erik is pumped and instinctively runs after the three bulls. After a few seconds of shaking off the shock I run too. From ahead I
hear him yell that the bull is down. And he certainly is down. After a few moments he breathes his last breath and is done.
It turns out this is not the bull we were after. He is a smaller 5x5 but we don’t care. We would have shot a spike given the
chance so this bull is a much better animal then we expected. We assume that the bulls were all together and feeding in the
area. The bruiser may have been just over the hill for all we know. But then again, maybe he was gone. At this point we really
don’t care since this 5x5 is down and we both laugh and whoop deep in the canyon. The sabot had entered on the point of his
right shoulder and ripped through the chest cavity. We couldn’t find an exit wound so it may have run the entire length of the
elk. The bull has good genetics but is young. His antlers are chocolate colored and he is wide with strong fronts but he lacks
mass and length on the tops. He would have been the bruiser in another two-years.
We try to take photos but my camera seems to be malfunctioning. I put a new battery in it the night before but everything is cold
and we struggle to nurse a half dozen photos out of it. The GPS says that we are ¾ mile away from the truck. But we have to
find a way out of the canyon. The slope to the east is long and steep but more generous then the way we came in so we decide
that is our way out. Given that we have heavy packs and the rifle with us we discuss how to best minimize trips out and opt to
make a quick run back to the truck and drop our stuff, collect only the meat prep gear (big knife, bone saw, frame packs, meat
bags, rope) and quarter the bull when we return. So I waypoint him on the GPS and drape my blaze orange vest over the
antlers and we are off.
Our hike out is on air. Erik and I are still both so elated. Back at the truck we quickly rearrange gear. Then a Forest Service
Ranger stops by to say hello. He is a super nice guy and wants to hear all about the hunt. We almost have him talked into
parking and coming with us to pack the bull out when he mentions that there is a camp ½ mile down the road with horses.
Maybe they would help us. So we part with the Ranger, stow our gear and drive down the road to the horse camp.
The camp is nicely equipped with a sleep in horse trailer and a big canvas wall tent. There are four men doing chores and
relaxing by a big fire. They are hunting cow elk and have decided to take this morning off to relax. We talk with Sam the owner
of the horses. He is hesitant and appears skeptical at first. JB, his horse, has never carried game before and he isn’t sure how
he will react. I start to feel awkward about having asked but he insists that he will try but provides no guarantees since it will
really be up to JB. Sam needs a few minutes to get dressed in proper clothes and saddle up JB so we drive down the road to a
gate where JB can cross the fence. Waiting I immediately regret having bothered Sam and almost drive back to tell him not to
come but before I can there he is on JB. JB is a small-bodied appaloosa but handles Sam with ease. He is 23 years old and
has a mild temperament.
Vince, Sam’s brother, has come along with his muzzleloader hoping to come in on a cow. Vince hikes on ahead while we open
the gate and head in. As we walk we learn more about Sam. He must be about my age or a little older and is a retired USMC
helicopter pilot. His chopper crashed and he suffered terrible burns. JB is his hunting partner and Sam hunts off his back. He
even shot an elk from the saddle once. The camp is full of his family – dad, brother, brother-in-law and his daughter. They
have hunted this unit seven times and know the area well.
Sam wants to see what Vince is up to so he gallops ahead. Within minutes we hear a shot and run forward ourselves. Vince
had come into a herd of at least 20 cows. He was trying to get set-up for a shot when Sam and JB came galloping up and
spooked the herd. We can still see elk nearby and Vince drops his gear and runs ahead. I pick up his pack and follow but the
elk are too spooked and we can’t catch up. He had gotten excited and flock shot into the herd. There is no blood and he is
sure of a miss. And Vince and Sam exchange a few curt words in the way that only brothers can do.
At the canyon now and Sam is trying to figure out how to get JB down into the bottom. We are prepared to haul the quarters up
but Sam thinks he can figure something out. Now within a few hundred feet we can see the blaze vest and hike down to the
bull. Sam rides further along the ridge to find a better route in. It has been several hours now and the elk is starting to bloat
and the flies have found him. Erik and I set-up shop and split his hide along the back to start getting the quarters off. Elk hide
is very thick and tough. I’m using a big 10” blade leftover from our days of buckskinning. It is perfect for the job. We strip the
hide off one side and Erik starts on the front while I work on the rear. Soon the quarters are clear and we bag them and lay
them over big rocks to cool. Then we roll over the elk and repeat.
Vince parted to continue his hunt almost immediately. Sam and JB arrive shortly after we had started skinning. He is just a
super guy and jokes with us and helps out whenever a third person is handy. We tie the quarters together and drape them over
JB’s saddle. He doesn’t like it at first. The smell of blood and the unfamiliar weight throw him off. But Sam works to calm him
and soon we are loaded. Sam is going to walk JB out and has a longer hike since he has to back track to find a gentler route
out of the canyon. Erik takes the loins in his pack and I have the head and antlers. We reconnect with Sam within minutes of
packing up the canyon. It was really slow going. But now we are on level ground and the travel easy. At the truck Sam
downright refuses our offer to pay him for his time. He is just glad to know that JB is steady enough to pack out elk and he is
happy to have helped us out. Erik and I decide that Sam is one great guy.
We drop off the meat down the road with the meat processor. Then we drive down to the café at Clint’s Wells for some lunch. It
is 2:00 now. The café also is a package liquor store and we buy a bottle of Jim Beam for Sam. We had learned that JB the
horse is named after Sam’s favorite bourbon. So if he won’t accept payment he can’t refuse a gift. Their camp is empty when
we get back so we leave the bottle and a note on JB’s saddle and return to our cabin to clean up and relax.
Now… to do a little dove and quail wing shooting!
struggling with the decision to head out to another mountain or into the large canyon system. My indecision continues up to the
T in the road. Right and we head to the mountain – Left and we head to the canyon. Okay, we go left. And drive the main road
to the turn-off and then onto a smaller dead end road that runs along a Quiet Area. The Quiet Area is closed to travel by
motorized vehicles. Most hunters access it closer to the main highway. I have chosen a route further in where the road is not
quite so good with the thought that there will be fewer hunters and maybe the guys to the south will push elk our way. There are
lots of campers along the road but nobody parked in my spot.
We get into the woods right at daybreak. Our plan is to hike along the edge of a small canyon so that we can glass both sides.
There is a small mountain to the south with lots of semi-open grassland between the mountain and canyon. It is cooler this
morning and there is a swirling wind that masks our footsteps. So we move quickly given the added cover. The wind is crazy
and swings from the back of our necks to the front of our faces in seconds. We will just have to deal with it. As usual, elk sign is
abundant – but are they here?
About 8:00 AM our small canyon has leveled out and we approach the edge of the main canyon system. It is miles long and
very deep. We have an ideal situation to hike and glass wide expanses of territory. Within 30 minutes I have our first elk of the
day spotted. They are very far away and it is impossible to tell with the 10X binocular if they are bulls. But at least we now have
three elk in view. We press forward on along the canyon trying to read the nearby ridges for an access route to intercept the
elk. Working our way I glass the canyon bottom and sides for closer options. Soon the canyon opens into an enormous bowl
with steep walls on three sides. Admiring the view I continue to glass and notice what appear to be legs deep in the shadows of
the canyon bottom. Seconds later the bull takes a step and confirms my suspicion. He turns his head and the sun picks up his
antler. He is a bruiser. Even from this distance we can tell he is worthy of any effort. Erik can’t see without the binocular so he
takes a look while I settle down. He is pumped too and we try to dissect the terrain to figure out how to get down on him. The
wind is at our backs again and seems to be holding which means we will have to travel past him on the ridge and drop down
behind him and try to catch up.
Okay, now we have a plan. And within 100 yards walk rush right into a herd of elk. Of course they are spooked. I drop to one
knee and shoulder the rifle as Erik looks for antler. But they are all cows. About a dozen as near as we could tell. And they are
running right down into the canyon where the bruiser is. We have no way of telling if they will keep running and take him along
so we decide to press on any way. As we travel forward we keep our landmarks in view. They are several dead pine trees and
a big grassy patch on the opposing canyon wall. When we are parallel with the landmarks we plan on cutting straight in hoping
to come in slightly behind the bull. It is our only option given the bad wind. But we have a small problem. The canyon wall is at
about a 70-degree angle. Kind of steep but there is nothing else to do but go down. On our butts that is. We can take a step
or two and then sit down so that we won’t fall forward or slide too fast. It is tedious but we agree that stealth is necessary given
that we have lost the position of the bull. We have the landmarks so we know where he was but we don’t know where he is. The
pace is slow but the canyon wall starts to level and soon we are sneaking across the bottom. Erik uses the rangefinder and
judges our distance to be within 200 yards of the bulls’ last position. The wind is still swirling and is generally bad. But the
canyon drops off again in the nearby distance. And past that drop off is where we last saw the bruiser. So we have good cover
and should come in on top of and slightly behind him assuming that he continued to keep moving in the same direction. The
pace is very slow.
And then Erik whispers to me: “Don’t move. He is behind you. Turn and shoot!” So I turn and there is a bull elk about 50-yards
away. He notices the movement and stops broadside. Lucky for him there are three trees covering his vitals so a shot is
impossible. But he doesn’t appear to be terribly spooked so I wait with the rifle at the ready. At 50-yards he fills up the 2.5X
scope. And then he takes a step forward. I have a neck shot and nearly take it. But wait, wait. He now turns and walks straight
at us. No shot except for head on. I’d have to drill him through the brisket. So wait, wait. At 40-yards he turns slightly and
gives me a fair quartering shot and the muzzleloader roars. As he turns I notice a slight limp but he is off and running. And
there are two smaller bulls behind him that I had not even noticed until now. I stand there soaking it all in. It was a good shot.
Erik is pumped and instinctively runs after the three bulls. After a few seconds of shaking off the shock I run too. From ahead I
hear him yell that the bull is down. And he certainly is down. After a few moments he breathes his last breath and is done.
It turns out this is not the bull we were after. He is a smaller 5x5 but we don’t care. We would have shot a spike given the
chance so this bull is a much better animal then we expected. We assume that the bulls were all together and feeding in the
area. The bruiser may have been just over the hill for all we know. But then again, maybe he was gone. At this point we really
don’t care since this 5x5 is down and we both laugh and whoop deep in the canyon. The sabot had entered on the point of his
right shoulder and ripped through the chest cavity. We couldn’t find an exit wound so it may have run the entire length of the
elk. The bull has good genetics but is young. His antlers are chocolate colored and he is wide with strong fronts but he lacks
mass and length on the tops. He would have been the bruiser in another two-years.
We try to take photos but my camera seems to be malfunctioning. I put a new battery in it the night before but everything is cold
and we struggle to nurse a half dozen photos out of it. The GPS says that we are ¾ mile away from the truck. But we have to
find a way out of the canyon. The slope to the east is long and steep but more generous then the way we came in so we decide
that is our way out. Given that we have heavy packs and the rifle with us we discuss how to best minimize trips out and opt to
make a quick run back to the truck and drop our stuff, collect only the meat prep gear (big knife, bone saw, frame packs, meat
bags, rope) and quarter the bull when we return. So I waypoint him on the GPS and drape my blaze orange vest over the
antlers and we are off.
Our hike out is on air. Erik and I are still both so elated. Back at the truck we quickly rearrange gear. Then a Forest Service
Ranger stops by to say hello. He is a super nice guy and wants to hear all about the hunt. We almost have him talked into
parking and coming with us to pack the bull out when he mentions that there is a camp ½ mile down the road with horses.
Maybe they would help us. So we part with the Ranger, stow our gear and drive down the road to the horse camp.
The camp is nicely equipped with a sleep in horse trailer and a big canvas wall tent. There are four men doing chores and
relaxing by a big fire. They are hunting cow elk and have decided to take this morning off to relax. We talk with Sam the owner
of the horses. He is hesitant and appears skeptical at first. JB, his horse, has never carried game before and he isn’t sure how
he will react. I start to feel awkward about having asked but he insists that he will try but provides no guarantees since it will
really be up to JB. Sam needs a few minutes to get dressed in proper clothes and saddle up JB so we drive down the road to a
gate where JB can cross the fence. Waiting I immediately regret having bothered Sam and almost drive back to tell him not to
come but before I can there he is on JB. JB is a small-bodied appaloosa but handles Sam with ease. He is 23 years old and
has a mild temperament.
Vince, Sam’s brother, has come along with his muzzleloader hoping to come in on a cow. Vince hikes on ahead while we open
the gate and head in. As we walk we learn more about Sam. He must be about my age or a little older and is a retired USMC
helicopter pilot. His chopper crashed and he suffered terrible burns. JB is his hunting partner and Sam hunts off his back. He
even shot an elk from the saddle once. The camp is full of his family – dad, brother, brother-in-law and his daughter. They
have hunted this unit seven times and know the area well.
Sam wants to see what Vince is up to so he gallops ahead. Within minutes we hear a shot and run forward ourselves. Vince
had come into a herd of at least 20 cows. He was trying to get set-up for a shot when Sam and JB came galloping up and
spooked the herd. We can still see elk nearby and Vince drops his gear and runs ahead. I pick up his pack and follow but the
elk are too spooked and we can’t catch up. He had gotten excited and flock shot into the herd. There is no blood and he is
sure of a miss. And Vince and Sam exchange a few curt words in the way that only brothers can do.
At the canyon now and Sam is trying to figure out how to get JB down into the bottom. We are prepared to haul the quarters up
but Sam thinks he can figure something out. Now within a few hundred feet we can see the blaze vest and hike down to the
bull. Sam rides further along the ridge to find a better route in. It has been several hours now and the elk is starting to bloat
and the flies have found him. Erik and I set-up shop and split his hide along the back to start getting the quarters off. Elk hide
is very thick and tough. I’m using a big 10” blade leftover from our days of buckskinning. It is perfect for the job. We strip the
hide off one side and Erik starts on the front while I work on the rear. Soon the quarters are clear and we bag them and lay
them over big rocks to cool. Then we roll over the elk and repeat.
Vince parted to continue his hunt almost immediately. Sam and JB arrive shortly after we had started skinning. He is just a
super guy and jokes with us and helps out whenever a third person is handy. We tie the quarters together and drape them over
JB’s saddle. He doesn’t like it at first. The smell of blood and the unfamiliar weight throw him off. But Sam works to calm him
and soon we are loaded. Sam is going to walk JB out and has a longer hike since he has to back track to find a gentler route
out of the canyon. Erik takes the loins in his pack and I have the head and antlers. We reconnect with Sam within minutes of
packing up the canyon. It was really slow going. But now we are on level ground and the travel easy. At the truck Sam
downright refuses our offer to pay him for his time. He is just glad to know that JB is steady enough to pack out elk and he is
happy to have helped us out. Erik and I decide that Sam is one great guy.
We drop off the meat down the road with the meat processor. Then we drive down to the café at Clint’s Wells for some lunch. It
is 2:00 now. The café also is a package liquor store and we buy a bottle of Jim Beam for Sam. We had learned that JB the
horse is named after Sam’s favorite bourbon. So if he won’t accept payment he can’t refuse a gift. Their camp is empty when
we get back so we leave the bottle and a note on JB’s saddle and return to our cabin to clean up and relax.
Now… to do a little dove and quail wing shooting!
| WESTERN EXPEDITION ADVENTURE | GEAR | WEAPONRY |
| Contact Eric Call 480-522-6150 |