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What Goes Up Must Come Down.
Each fall, all across the West, thousands of tiny migrations take place throughout the Rocky Mountains as ungulates evacuate the high country, moving to lower elevations in search of easier living and more reliable food sources.
Fewer wolves, less snow to fight, safety in numbers.
So what, right?
Well, maybe. But let’s try saying this another way.
Each fall, all across the West, thousands of tiny migrations take place throughout the Rocky Mounts as big elk and rarely seen deer evacuate the high country, moving to lower elevations where they’re a hell of a lot easier to kill.
Better?
If whitetails were as trusting as mule deer, they’d be completely extinct east of the Mississippi River. It’s a near experience to have breakfast and watch the “yard birds” tend their does. Whacking a deer in the yard is completely uncouth, but the thought crossed my mind. Twice.
Look, an elk hunt doesn’t need to be a backcountry test of survival and display of masculinity to be an incredible experience and stack literally hundreds of pounds of nature’s finest meat in the ol’ chest freezer. Sometimes, a fella wants to put in a good day’s hunt and still be able to turn up the space heater a bit before hopping into the shower at night.
But don’t think that means these hungry critters stand around waiting to get shot. Those that do don’t last long, and those that survive learn really quick what happens when they stand still. They’re hungry, but they’re not dumb. When the elk roll out of the mountains, the blaze orange sneaks up from the valleys, and hunting pressure can make success nearly out of reach.
Ennis, Montana, is snuggled into the mountains roughly 60 miles from the north gate of Yellowstone National Park. And those mini migrations I was talking about? It’s no different here than it is anywhere else … except that the scenery might be just a little bit better.
Have you ever seen whitetails live in a more visually stunning habitat? Me neither. A good hunting trip is measured by antlers and meat. A great hunting trip is measured by the friends gathered along the way as well. It’s odd, but a week in hunting camp together somehow seems to equate to about 10 years of friendship in the “real” world
Photos From The Field:
Is this heaven? Nope, it’s Ennis, Montana. You know that feeling you get when watching Rip and Beth roll around in the grass in a secluded mountain meadow, while the horses graze near the creek and elk bugle just off screen from somewhere in the dark timber? Being here is kinda like that.Sill hunting is the name of the game on the fringes of daylight. The goal is to catch a bull sneaking back to bed in the trees just a little too late, or a bull coming down to feed before dark in the evenings. You can skip the heated underwear (though I don’t recommend that), but don’t you dare skimp on top-notch optics … for any hunt.Elk are where you find them, but come November, bulls will generally travel in small bachelor groups until they’re ready to join a bigger herd. Yes, saddles are always a great place to look, but this time of year the bachelor groups seem to favor the ridges to navigate between bedding cover and food sources.Life in the mountains is rough, especially when sub-zero temps arrive in early November. This tiny dam serves as a vital water source on the ranch, and it needs to be kept ice-free. Pro tip: The crotch is the warmest place on the body, and thus brings feeling back to frozen fingers the quickest.God bless a mule deer’s willingness to stand and stare danger directly in the face of certain death. Even when not hunting muleys, they’re always a welcome encounter. I know mule deer does aren’t stupid, but it sure does seem that way sometimes.
Grandpa’s .270 Winchester whitetail-whacker is more than adequate for hunting elk. However, sometimes it’s fun to drive a race car, even when a minivan will do. Here’s a Weatherby Mark V Backcountry chambered in the screaming .300 Weatherby Magnum. Necessary? Nope. But it shoots fast and flat across the wide-open valleys in which the elk feed this time of year.
Suck it up, buttercup. Moving warms the body, and nasty weather puts the elk on their feet. As long as the snow doesn’t restrict the visibility to mere inches, snow on the ground and more falling from the sky is an excellent combination … unless you’re an elk.Hunting dirt (or snow) that’s been hunted the day before can be hell on the optimism, especially when everyone else in camp has already tagged out and won’t shut up about it. But elk travel miles every day: You just gotta be between where they are and where they want to be.EOTech makes some of the finest optics on the planet. It’s guaranteed that you’ve seen their holographic sights in damned near every movie that has a gun battle scene, and you can bet your long-awaited elk tag that their hunting optics are as rugged, dependable, and amazingly clear as their battle optics used overseas by America’s servicemen.Strong like bull, smart like tractor. Yeah, having to pack an elk out multiple miles, taking multiple trips, makes for great stories while you’re grilling backstraps back home. But … not every elk hunt needs to be a test of survival, and a flatbed makes a much better meat transportation tool than a backpack.Yes, mountain men do still exist. And experience dictates that most have skin of leather and hearts as soft as a Labrador’s ear hairs.
Yup, that’s half an elk … the other half is about 75 yards uphill in tow as well. A whole elk is too much to pull, even with a couple guys. But when there’s snow on the ground, half an elk makes a decent sled. It’s still work, but it’s much easier than you’d think. God bless gravity.
Whether it’s an old oak or a 100-horsepower John Deere, a full meatpole is a full meatpole. And, when in Montana in November, you really don’t need to worry about the meat spoiling from the heat.
It doesn’t matter if you’ve got an elk or a deer tag in your pocket: Every hunt turns into a predator hunt when the opportunity arises. If you don’t take a shot at a coyote, you best keep that to yourself. And, as it turns out, a .300 Weatherby Magnum makes a pretty effective coyote gun.
Editor’s Note: This article originally appeared in Carnivore Magazine Issue 9.
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