Trans-Pecos Elk and the Mystery Surrounding Their Origins

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Over the course of a couple of decades, I’ve hunted the scenic reaches of west Texas quite a few times. Various hunts have found me pursuing two species of whitetail, aoudad, mountain lion, desert mule deer, scimitar oryx, hogs and javelina from Marfa to Marathon and Alpine to Fort Davis. And while I had seen elk behind the high fence on numerous Lone Star ranches, my first encounter with free-ranging elk in the Davis Mountains years ago came as a complete and utter surprise.

Since that first encounter, I longed to hunt these mystery elk, and the opportunity finally presented itself last fall with an invitation from an old hunting buddy, Federal Ammunition’s Mike Holm. Federal was about to introduce a new, heavy-for-caliber Terminal Ascent bullet for the 7mm PRC and I was going to be the first media person to put it to the test. I excitedly accepted Mike’s invite as it not only gave me a shot at an exclusive ammo story, but a west Texas free-range bull elk as well.

Origins of the Elk

The provenance of west Texas’ free-range elk is both long and complicated. It’s a fact that the existence of elk throughout Texas has long been proven. Multiple written sources referencing the existence of elk in Texas go all the way back to the 17th century. These have been reinforced by modern archeology that has dated pre-Columbian Texas rock drawings depicting elk back to 2,000 BC.

But what species of elk were they? What species of elk live in west Texas today?

There is scant evidence to make a definitive declaration, but several possibilities exist. One is that the original Texas elk were a subspecies of the now extinct Merriam’s elk that at one time inhabited areas of not only Texas but also northern Mexico, Arizona and New Mexico. Recent DNA and molecular genetic studies support the idea that both Rocky Mountain and Nelson’s elk, an isolated subspecies discovered in the Arizona mountains at the turn of the 20th century, simply extended their range eastward over time from western New Mexico into west Texas.

Whatever their origins, the unfortunate reality is that due to habitat loss and indiscriminate hunting, by the late 1880s only a small remnant population remained in Texas’ far west Guadalupe Mountains.

But, in 1928, a rancher by the name of J.C. Wheeler released 44 Rocky Mountain elk from South Dakota into the Guadalupes. From that point, the rest is recent history.

Free-Range

Today, free-range bands of elk are hunted in the Guadalupe, Davis, Glass, Eagle and Wylie mountains of west Texas. A separate population inhabits several counties in the Texas panhandle. Total free-range elk population estimates of the Trans-Pecos Region that I’ve seen from Texas Tech, dating from a 2014 survey, indicate 1,200 to a high of 3,500 animals. However, it’s likely the actual number is now much higher.

Hunters, of course, want to know what kind of bull they can expect from a free-range west Texas hunt? Measurements of 300-350 inches will be the average with occasional bulls reaching the 370s. However, as Texas Parks & Wildlife considers the elk to be a non-game species, they cannot be officially registered by Boone and Crockett Club.

West Texas is remote, and not visited often, even by folks who live in Texas. The exceptions are travelers headed to Big Bend National Park via El Paso or Midland. Last October I flew into Midland and rented a vehicle for the two-and-a-half-hour drive to our hunting camp in the Glass Mountains outside Marathon. There I met up with Holm and another outdoor colleague, Kelly Young. Having hunted with both of these folks in the past, it was going to be a buddy hunt and I knew that we were all excited to be pursuing these legendary elk.

As it turned out, neither Mike or Kelly had successfully hunted elk before. Both had had some prior experience in the Rockies, but neither had been able to connect on a bull.

Anticipation Builds

The spread we were hunting was mid-size by Texas standards—around 50,000 acres. The terrain was a mix of rolling, cedar-speckled hills, oak-choked canyons, rimrock and high mesas standing sentinel above the arid flatlands below.

That first night in camp, after a good Tex-Mex meal prepared by our camp cook—a young gal out of east Texas with an engaging stereotypical drawl and highly advanced culinary skills—Mike, Kelly and I, along with our guides, shot the breeze for a spell while tipping back a few drams of Kentucky’s finest until finally heading off to our bedrolls.

Morning came crisp and clear. Soft Charlie Russell pastels painted the landscape as the sun began its ascent. Opening the door of my room onto the deck, I heard the haunting bugles of bull elk carried upon the soft breeze. As I sipped my cup of joe and organized my hunting gear, I knew that the day was going to be special.

The goal of our hunt was to collect terminal-effect data using Federal’s newest offering, a 7mm Terminal Ascent (TA) bullet loaded in the wildly popular 7mm PRC cartridge. Earlier range results had shown the new bullets to be very accurate. The Terminal Ascent bullet is constructed to offer all-range hunting performance. It utilizes a lead core and a copper shank, with a special “Slipstream” polymer tip that helps initiate expansion. Combined with a high B.C., the bullet’s minimal drag optimizes its ability to perform across a broad spectrum of distances.

I was shooting a new Pure Precision SKLTN rifle, fitted with a Proof Research 22-inch, carbon fiber-wrapped barrel with a 1:8 twist, which is optimal for the heavier 7mm 168-175-grain bullets. This custom M700 clone is a tack driver, and I knew that combined with the new Federal TA 170-grain load I was well equipped for any shot that may present itself.

We mounted up in my guide Creed’s Toyota Tacoma and began cruising the two-tracks that crisscrossed the ranch. We covered a lot of ground, and every time we hit a high point, we would stop, dismount, and meticulously glass the far distance. Sometimes, if the wind was good, Creed would bugle or cow call to elicit a response. Over the course of the morning, we spotted a couple of bands of elk that may have held a shooter bull or two, but they were always either too far away without a sound approach, or across the neighbor’s fence line. After four or five hours, we had only located a rag horn 4-point and his four-cow harem that would have permitted us to get close enough for a shot.

Red-Hot Action

Just before heading back to the ranch house for lunch, we made our way up to one of the highest points on the ranch. Below us stretched a small valley running between the hill we were on and the farthest ridge over, about half a mile away. To the right of the farthest ridge ran a creek bed shrouded in cedars and oaks that stretched from the valley’s floor, up and behind a smaller hill that bordered the valley and around to the far right of the distant ridge, a point we could not see from our vantage point.

Creed let out a long piercing bugle and immediately got two responses from the valley! One was pretty darn close, within 450-500 yards, and the other another 300 or more farther up the valley. Both came from cover within the oaks, so we could not actually make out the bulls.

While Creed and I were discussing our next move, I happened to glance up to the far ridge, more than a thousand yards away, and saw a couple of cow elk skylined at the top. As we watched, two more cows slowly walked into view, followed by two more. Suddenly, a bull emerged. At a thousand yards, he appeared to be a heavy 5-point, the biggest bull we had encountered so far.

Creed hastily let go with a bugle and the ridgetop bull responded immediately with a deep, raspy, mature bugle of his own that floated back to us on the wind. Interestingly, neither of the two bulls we had just heard below us bothered to respond. My guess was this big guy up top had already faced off against them and the younger guys weren’t keen for a rematch.

Quick Pivot

We made a plan pretty darn quick. The wind was in our favor, and we could see that if we used the creek bed for cover, we could work our way closer for a better look. Grabbing my backpack and shooting sticks from the bed of the truck, I slung my rifle over my shoulder and followed Creed down into the valley.

Upon reaching the creek we began our uphill stalk. At this point, the elk above could not see us, and we could not see them. Using the trees for cover, we made our way up the watercourse about 200 yards. The wind was still on our faces. Creed sidled up to a cedar tree and peeked around it and up the slope. As luck would have it, the elk had moved about one-third of the way down the ridge but were still 500 yards away and feeding slowly in the wrong direction. We would have to continue up the draw and hope we could get close enough for a shot either before our cover ran out or the elk fed up and over the saddle.

Our slow, stealthy approach continued. It reminded me of hunting Cape buffalo in the thick jesse bush as our every step was measured to make as little noise as possible. Twenty minutes or more had passed before we had finally made our way to a point where the cover was about to run out. Carefully looking around yet another tree we were bummed to see two cows disappearing over the saddle at a distance that would make catching up to them nearly impossible.

Just then, about 60 yards above us, a cow stepped out from behind a clump of cedar. Creed and I stood transfixed as the big bull we were seeking followed behind her. Both peered intently right at us.

Tossing my shooting sticks to the ground I hissed at Creed. “Give me your shoulder!”

The Shot

At the sudden commotion the bull and cow, followed by two more cows that were also hidden behind the cedars, spun and charged uphill, racing toward the top. In one fluid motion, I flicked off the safety, leveled my rifle’s fore-end on Creed’s shoulder and found the bull in my crosshairs, but he presented only a Texas heart shot.

I stayed on him and for no apparent reason, at what turned out to be 109 yards, the bull stopped and turned broadside to peer back toward us. That’s all it took. The 7mm PRC roared and the bull staggered, tried to lunge uphill, turned and stumbled downhill, then collapsed in a thicket of sage.

Amazingly, Creed and I didn’t know what we had at that point. We had never really had an opportunity to carefully study the bull and assumed him to be a 5-point. When we finally walked over to his resting place, we were stunned to count seven points on one side and six on the other. His antler mass from base to tip was astounding. He wasn’t wide, but he was a massive, old warrior. It was the perfect end to what turned out to be a perfect hunt for my long coveted west Texas free-range bull.

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