The Battle for a Public Land Bull Elk

Bowhunting elk successfully, DIY on public ground, is not just a hard feat to accomplish; it can be a downright battle. A war waged against the mind, body, spirit, and of course, against the elk. Days of long, hot miles logged under boots compiled with limited elk sightings, uncooperative bulls, missed opportunities, short sleepless nights, public pressure, and a gamut of things that seem to simply just go wrong, explain why most archers head home each season with a tag still intact. Those who get it done are those who stay in the fight to the very end, not relinquishing their efforts, even as time and heart quickly wane. My brother, Ben, is one of those individuals.

On the 13th day of his 14-day hunt, Ben stayed the course as he had done throughout the season. The hunt hadn’t been ideal, namely two bulls called into bow range with two missed shots. There were plenty of other reasons to call it quits early, too. Elk herds were scattered. Most of the big bulls had holed up on private land. Additionally, temperatures maintained in the 90’s, limiting elk movement. Nonetheless, Ben kept his head in the game.

Ben was bowhunting with our brother, Ian. That morning, they located two bulls that were bugling back and forth. Gaining elevation from a vantage point, they spotted the bulls cruising private land a few hundred yards away. Ben and Ian scrambled down a shale slope where they set up to call. One bull was responsive, providing a chance to coax him over the boundary fence.

With good wind direction, they tucked into some cedars, knocked arrows, and prepared for a shot. The bull frequently replied to Ben’s bugles but hung up about 400 yards out. After a couple hours of unsuccessfully getting the bull to commit, clouds rolled overhead, dropping the temperature and darkening the skies.

Action

Ben let out a few mews and chirps. The bull promptly bugled back. When Ben cow called a few minutes later, the bull’s scream revealed he cut his distance in half. Letting out a couple soft mews, Ben sat quiet. The bull was coming.

Suddenly, the bull’s antlers emerged. At 50 yards, the enormous bull stopped, staring in Ben’s direction. Unfortunately, he was head-on with no shot. Without any cows in sight, the bull whipped around and trotted down the hill he came up.

With the bull not spooked, Ben and Ian regrouped to discuss their options as it started to drizzle. They decided it was worth sitting tight and trying to work the bull again with the calls. Quietly, they cut cedar limbs, each building small brush blinds as the storm let loose.

After about an hour, the rain drops ceased. Ben repeated his cow-calling sequence, and once again, the bull responded. Minutes later, the heavy bull was heard lunging over the fence like it was child’s play. Ian was thirty yards to the left of Ben. When the bull walked through a short window of cedar trees, Ian came to full draw, but the bull didn’t stop for a shot.

Seconds later, Ben noticed the white shine of the bull’s antler tips cresting the berm below him. With his head held proud, the bull sauntered up the cedar-laden slope, intently eyeing for a hot cow. The bull cleared the dirt rise, offering Ben a clear view to range the bull.

Moment of Truth

At 61 yards, Ben rolled the dial on his sight and waited. As the bull turned quartering, Ben yanked his bow back and settled into his anchor points. Confident, Ben touched off the release as the arrow perpetually floated towards the beast. The arrow buried into the bull’s chest, up to the fletching. The giant turned and bolted. The crashing of branches and rolling of rocks provided a positive comprehension of the situation.

Ben felt good about the shot, but they waited a few minutes to let the rush ease from his veins and give the bull time. The trail needed no scrutiny. Blood spewed two feet across rock and grass down the hillside. When Ben and Ian peeked over the hill, the bull was down in sight. He ran approximately 150 yards to the fence line and expired.

Later that evening, I met my brothers to help with packing out the behemoth. The bull was a giant, both in body and antler. It took many back-straining loads and hours in the black of night, but the smile on our faces showed how thrilled we were to get Ben’s best bow kill back to the truck.

Ben’s unrelenting attitude in the face of adversity gave him the ability to grind through the archery elk hunting battle and bring home a huge New Mexico bull.

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