Hunting Elk

    They crossed the creek in the dark, riding the horses and walked them the rest of the way. It was simply too cold to ride them in with far below zero temperatures and two feet of snow. The hunters of the elusive Wapiti stayed warm walking, secured the horses safely at the trailhead, and began the treacherous climb up icy rock cliffs into the world of elk winter range. Their bodies were exhausted from weeks of hunting, but both the hunger in their bellies and the fire in their souls kept them moving...

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    Elk hunting in the extreme northwest corner of Montana bordering the Selkirk Mountains of Idaho and the British Columbia border to the north is serious business. With many, it is an addiction of sorts, a propensity to connect with something ancient that most cannot fully or accurately explain. The passion drives them hard. Their intellect and curiosity compels them to devour every book on the subject they can get their hands on. Long before the fall bow and rifle season begins, hunting parties of men, women and young adults pour over contour maps and aerial photographs. Scout trips are organized, and they head out to explore.
    These trips can be integral to the combined success of the hunt. Time and energy are of ultimate importance during the open season. The scouts look for the signs of elk utilizing different hunting spots. The patrols focus in on determining recent utilization of the terrain. Search images quickly improve as they scan for the telltale slightly rounded leading edge tracks in mud, dust, and snow. They examine the woody herbaceous shrubs that elk rely on for evidence of browsing. The searchers concentrate on finding scat with the Hershey’s kiss shape and dimpled pattern. Their sense of smell is trained to detect the sweet odor of bull elk urine. Antler rubs on saplings are checked carefully in case they might pull off the long black mane hairs from the young tree. And of course, they look hard. They know that even from optimum vantage points elk can be deceiving. The magicians of the woods seem to use smoke and mirrors. The natural camouflage of antlers, dark mane, tan body, and yellow rump patch, combined with mist, fog, and snow obscures many an elk. The pursuers listen for the musical bugling of the big bulls. Lastly, the hunters sight in their rifles for that long shot, pack the packs and fall asleep dreaming of the elk hunt. For tomorrow is opening day and they will need all these skills and some luck to score.
    The determined hunters descended from the world of elk winter range successful. They rode out to a pink and orange sunset. The meat would feed them all for the winter, and no part of the elk would be wasted. Tomorrow would be Thanksgiving Day, and they felt it deep in their souls as they meandered along the trail in Kootenai Country Montana.    
(Author’s Note: Reference - The Elk Hunter, Laubach and Henckel.)