I then bugled, and after waiting ten minutes to see if any of my partners happened by, decided to head back to the truck to get my camera and the pack boards. Arriving back where I had shot from an hour later, I started toward where I thought the elk would be, but found not one drop of blood. I got a sick feeling as I started to doubt, for a second, the placement of my shot. When I looked up ahead and downhill, though, I spotted the bull lying in his final resting place. What a relief to know I had indeed made a good hit. The entire distance from where I shot him to where he finally fell was probably only 110 yards. He was a nice symmetrical 5 by 6 with pretty good mass, really a 5-point with a small sixth point on his right side. When I told my buddies, who showed up shortly, I found that Lindsay had spooked the herd to me and had in fact seen them at a distance of twenty yards but had set his bow down to bugle and couldn't get to it in time for a shot. Lucky for me! After gutting and caping the animal, as I planned to have the bull mounted, I found that my arrow had angled through one lung and left a perfect broadhead pattern right through it’s heart, stopping against the far shoulder. The bull was probably dead in a few seconds.

The next morning we decided to go back to where Kyle had shot at the 3 by 3 and I would try to bugle and stay back while Kyle was out front positioned for a shot. We got the young bull to answer us finally and came very close to getting a shot but he never quite stepped into a shooting lane. He finally spooked off and we followed him for a while but could never turn him. In our efforts to turn the young bull, a very large sounding bull answered us from quite a ways up the ridge. We decided we would try for him, as he sounded pretty aggressive. There was a large wallow on the ridge at the edge of the timber near where we had last heard the bull, so I picked a good spot to hide and bugle while Kyle sneaked a short distance into the timber. The bull answered me and it was killing me not knowing if Kyle could see him or not. After a while, Kyle returned with a big grin on his face. He didn't get a shot at the elk but he had seen him and his many cows at 40 yards and said he was absolutely huge with a body half again larger than my bull had. The cows had winded Kyle but the bull was hesitant to leave as I was raking trees and splashing around in his wallow, trying to sound like a bull elk. Kyle said the bull kept looking in my direction as if to say, "who the hell is in my wallow," but he finally followed the cows over the ridge. We knew we were going to start back home that afternoon, but the wind was wrong to approach the elk, and already having been spooked, we decided to leave them until next year. It's always good to have something like that to look forward to.

We headed back to camp, packed our gear, and headed towards home with my prize mounted to the cab of the truck. Out in the open sage, Lindsay spotted three cow elk feeding along the roadside creek so we stopped and let Kyle out while Lindsay and I turned around and went a little ways back ahead of where we had seen the elk. Lindsay spotted another elk and it was a dandy 5-point bull just uphill of the cows. We decided he should try and sneak up the draw and try for a shot as we could see Kyle and he had no cover to approach the elk. I set up my spotting scope and watched what transpired next, being more excited than at almost any point in our trip. The cows were very nervous, but the bull didn't seem to be at all, just feeding some and keeping an eye on the cows. The sun would be setting soon and the elk were slowly feeding up the hill. I was worried Lindsay wouldn't get to his position before the elk fed away so I gave a cow call and was amazed as the bull stopped eating and proceeded over to a juniper tree. He started thrashing that tree for all he was worth. It was awesome watching all this through my scope. While the bull raked the tree Lindsay got as close as cover would allow and attempted a shot but misjudged the distance and shot just low of the bull. The elk ran off up the hill but I got a great view as the bull stopped on top in the sunset and turned his head back and forth before going over the other side. I could have kicked myself, as I have an attachment allowing my camera to hook to my spotting scope, but I was so excited watching that I forgot completely about it. Kyle and Lindsay both ran to the top of the hill, and were dumbfounded at where the elk could have gone, for they said they could see forever in the open sage but never once got a glimpse of them.

Because of our unexpected delay, we decided to drive part of the way home and stop in Bend to stay at Kyle's mom's vacation house. The next morning we went to a spot where Lindsay had missed a big bull earlier in the season, but found nothing other than a huge rub on a tree probably twelve inches in diameter. We all wondered what kind of huge bull must have done that rub. It will definitely be an area we go back to next year. The rest of the trip home was pretty uneventful except for some more thumbs up from oncoming drivers. I called my parents, who I thank immensely for raising me as a hunter, and a few other buddies to come check out my bull, and then headed in for a much-needed shower and off to sleep to dream about next year's hunt.