He is now a trophy on the wall, and it was many years ago, but certainly a story to remember.
I had a tag and so did our son-in-law (Ex), for bull elk in unit 27 in Arizona. It comes in November and can get quite cold. We, Paul and I, had packed in two weeks earlier and set up a camp near the Blue River in order to have water for the animals. We had 2 wall tents and smaller one for feed. There is an old partial bit of a wooden holding pen there but does not have enough wood in it to keep the animals in. So, we tied them up to a high line in the middle of it. The blue river runs north to south through camp here and there is a little bitty tributary, only about a foot wide, coming into the Blue that crosses the trail heading to the east. There are four directions we can go from camp. The area is gorgeous, the leaves have turned. Some are still drifting down from the Sycamores and Cypress with some of them landing in the bubbling river floating on downstream. There is a big fire ring to cook from and keep us warm in the evenings. The sun goes down early and so do we.
Paul, me and the SIL are now back for the hunt. Paul is along as guide and helper. I do most of the cooking. I usually do about half of everything at home and seal them up in vacuum bags that live in the freezer until time to hunt and until mealtime. SIL is a great hunter helper and team player. He is about 50 years younger than us (seemingly), and his energy and stamina, it amazes us.
We have SIL's 2 horses and our three mules along with us for the three of us to ride and two will be used as packers. It will take us two trips to get out of the wilderness hopefully with meat and horns in tow. We are packed into the wilderness a few days before the opening of the hunting season and have time to ride and scout around for which way we want to head out opening morning.
Paul, my husband and hero in everything, is up early feeding the animals and making coffee. I am soon out of the sack gathering my things together when he and SIL go to saddle three of the animals. I look like a big marshmallow in my Carhart insulated bibs and all the other I have on to stay warm. I can handle the cold if I am prepared. I get up on the mule with the gloves and the head scarf and the hat and start to take off following the two guys. I turn around to adjust the cantle pack and my mule decides to jump (big jump), over the same tiny creek he had walked over six other times. I hadn’t even gathered up the reins yet.
I landed like a sack of potatoes at the side of the creek, didn’t even get wet it is so tiny but there were three big rocks under me. Mostly the chest area behind my back and I have no air in my lungs, which aren’t the greatest anyway, and can’t speak. They didn’t even notice until the trail turned sideways, and they could see me in trouble. They scramble back to help me up and get the mule. It’s pretty bad. I am in a lot of pain and breathing is difficult. I am not able to hunt.
So, we go the 20 yards back to the tents. Paul wants to know if he should go for help or see if he can get me out of there. I said no, just leave me to rest. Go hunt. I know what the priorities are.
Paul unsaddles my mule. I get back in the sack with a couple pain pills. Off they went and I slept. I slept pretty solid for three days with pain pills. They were thankful for the seal a meals. SIL had not seen anything very big to shoot at. I am up off the cot more for the next day but still not ready to hunt. Day five, tomorrow, I plan to hunt. Still in a lot of pain, but I still know what the priorities are. Pain pills in me and in my pocket and off we go. I also have an inhaler with me. We go south and SIL goes east. The trail winds around the ends of many little and some big canyons as we go along. Sun is just coming up as we round a few more corners. We stop to glass and ride some more. Paul spots a nice one way on the other side of the canyon. He starts to describe what we are going to do to get to it. All the way down to the end of this canyon and drop way down and then way back this away and cross the bottom and then back that away and then back up etcetera and I kinda loose it at him. Here I am barely able to even be in the saddle or sit in it upright and he wants to do steep canyons for hours. So, we passed on him. I really had to calm myself down. Riding was being really rough and painful for me. We rode on a bit and glassed a little more, but I wasn’t having it. We rested awhile then went back to camp. It was still early. I told him I would hunt again tomorrow, which will now be the second to the last day. I went to take a nap.
We got up again in the morning and went out. Headed the same way as yesterday. Around the bends and glassing again. After maybe a mile Paul spots a nice one, kinda actually behind us, on a ridge we had just passed just a bit ago. We move on around another couple of bends and then head up that ridge bushwacking it through the brush up the back side of the ridge. The goal was to go up the ridge aways then cross back over toward the bull undetected.
Before we cross back over, we get off of the animals a couple times to glass and keep track of the elk, well, actually Paul is. Getting off and on is not easy and very painful. He is still there, still ahead of us but laid down now. So, we decide to try to get more across from him and continue up the ridge staying over the top on the hidden from the elk side. The brush is extremely thick, so it is time to get off of the animals and go afoot now, me too.
Like I said, my lungs weren’t great anyway and now they hurt like crazy from I am pretty sure by now fractured ribs. So, breathing for me was incredibly hard is an understatement while working my way up the ridge. I had an inhaler and pain pills with me, and I struggled on to keep up with Paul. Struggled hard. Air is very important.
Paul whisper shouts at me that he is up, and I need to hurry and keep up. I said I need to use my inhaler and take a pain pill and 20 minutes for them to work. He said we don’t have 20 minutes. I quickly ingested what I needed and struggled on. It's mid-afternoon by now. I rushed on, my heart pounding in my chest and my ears, am I going to have a heart attack? My mouth was so, so dry. The weight of the gun and my boots was getting heavier. He coaxes me over the top of the ridge to stay low and come get comfy for a shot. The bull is still standing there under a tree. I get in position and try to calm my breathing with Paul getting nervous I will miss my opportunity next to me.
Breathe, breathe, slow and deep my chest is rising and falling with my heart pounding while I try to put my sights on him. I’m telling myself this is never going to work. He is looking towards us now. Exhale, calm, easy breath and inhale. Timing my next chest fall for when I will pull the trigger. the bull puts his nose back in the trail in front of him. Using the tripod stand as a rest, my chest falls, I shoot, it hit, he dropped out of sight. I gasped for air repeatedly. I used my inhaler for the 3rd time since I got off the mule. It had been a half hour of steep uphill very, very hard work for me with bad lungs, broken ribs, and chest pain. I will never forget how hard I worked in this space in time.
Paul watched and watched the area where he dropped for any movement or sign while I tried to get my composure back. He sees nothing. He says we have to go find him. The sun is going to be going down soon. I of course understand and I say ok, but he gets way ahead of me. Down and then up a pretty steep and deep canyon. The trip downhill it was easier on me, but I still have not caught my breath. I go for a while and realize there is another hill I must climb. Across canyons with thick brush, it is hard to see topography. Disappointing to say the least. Now for again going way back up and it was getting steeper and very hard to do. Again, deceitful topography, I was using branches to pull myself upward.
Paul boogied up and over, me still breathing very hard even with breaks. Paul had been talking to SIL on the radio. He knew we were looking for the bull. Finally, I can now hear Paul verbally talking to me as I am getting closer now. The brush is extremely thick. You could see evidence of the Wallow fire all around. Still very much black everywhere. He can’t find him. The brush is so very thick, and the trails are hard to see because the side of the mountain is so steep. The sun is almost down. It will be dark soon. We gotta get him cleaned and us back to camp. Finally, he shouts he found him. He was so camouflaged it was crazy. I tried to get a picture, but it was too dark. In fact, trying to get a picture he was sliding down the hill and going to take me with him, very precarious right here.
We rolled him to an angle where he was more horizontal to keep him from continuing to slide down the hill, a tree partially helping with that. Normally in the past I always gutted my own animal. This time I was just too fatigued to do it so Paul started in. I just breathed and sat and watched for a while still catching my breath. Finally, as I realized the gravity of what I had just been through I began to smile. I looked him over with pride as the near full moon was coming up. He is actually bigger than we thought. I was really happy with myself, and my smile was making my face cramp.
Thanks for reading. There is a lot more to this story which will be in the next blog post.
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