- Corey Yatso
The start of my first archery bull elk hunt was the beginning of some very long days and nights, but it was also the opportunity of a lifetime. The early mornings came quickly, but the rut was slow to start. Bugling began as early as 4:30 a.m., filling the crisp air with excitement. Temperatures were in the upper 40s as I set out with fellow veteran Justin Evans and my two good hunting buddies, Brent McMillan and Josh Reece. We had a game plan: two groups of two, heading in different directions to cover more ground.
As the sun broke over the horizon, wildlife began to stir, stretching out their legs and bringing life to the hillside. In the distance, I heard a bugle echoing from the wash in the bottom of the valley. Thirty minutes later, the source of the sound revealed itself—a magnificent 6x6 bull elk emerged from the trees. I quickly radioed the other group to join us and left Brent behind to keep an eye on the bull while I set off on foot, hoping to intercept it.
As I moved up the hill, a smaller bull appeared from the bottom. Though not as large, he was still a worthy target. I made my way to where I thought the elk would cross over to the other side of the ridge. Suddenly, I was surrounded by three bugling bulls, but the thick terrain made it nearly impossible to see them. I stayed hidden behind a pine tree, listening intently as two bulls clashed antlers nearby, the sound of their battle stirring up the ground. My heart raced as I focused on staying calm and sneaking closer. At about 80 yards, I could see their legs through the scrub brush and trees. Unfortunately, the wind changed direction, and my scent gave me away. The elk bolted, leaving me in the dust. I decided not to pursue them further, not wanting to push them out of the area.
The four of us regrouped and discussed our strategy for the rest of the day. We decided to identify permanent water sources, knowing that, despite the abundance of standing water, elk are more likely to frequent these areas. As the morning bugling began to die down, we headed to a nearby cattle tank. On the way, I came across a three-foot Arizona black rattlesnake sunning itself behind a rock just off the road. At the last second, I saw it move and rattle. My adrenaline surged as I quickly backed away from the "angry nope rope." After a few minutes, we continued to the tank, which looked promising. We decided that if the afternoon and evening hunt weren't successful, Justin would sit at the tank after the morning bugles the next day.
Opening day ended without any filled tags, but we gained a good understanding of the terrain and started to pattern the elk. Back at camp, we shared stories, got to know each other better, and enjoyed a meal. We discovered that Justin had broken a leaf spring on his camper, so after the morning hunt, we drove an hour to a parts store to get what we needed to make repairs.
We tried sitting by the water for the rest of the midday hunt with little luck. A few cows and deer came to the tank, but no elk. At one point, I got excited when I heard what sounded like a herd of elk approaching, only to be disappointed when I realized it was a lone hiker clearing rocks with a pickaxe. It’s called hunting for a reason—some days, you just don't see anything.
The next day, we all decided to ride together in the side-by-side to our first glassing spot. The trail was narrow, with tight spots to maneuver through. As we emerged into an open area on the ridge, our headlights illuminated a 5x5 bull standing not far away. Unfortunately, it was still too dark to shoot, so we could only watch as he trotted down the hill and out of sight. As the sun rose, the excitement began to wane, with bull bugles echoing in the distance. Justin and I decided to leave Brent and Josh to glass while we attempted to cut off the elk before they got too far away.
We spotted two bulls about 400 yards away in thick cover. Justin wanted to put a stalk on them, but he had no luck. As I headed back to the side-by-side to stay mobile, I heard a bull elk bugle about 120 yards away. I could barely make him out, but he was a nice bull, and I decided to go for it. The chase was on as I tried to dodge crunchy pinecones and thin pine trees. I managed to get within 80 yards, pulled back my bow, and prepared to shoot. The bull stopped, looked at me, and strategically positioned himself behind a tree, blocking a clear shot at his vitals. He finally stepped out, but at the last second, he quartered away, and I missed. I found my arrow stuck in a tree, with no evidence of a hit, just dirt and damage from bouncing off the ground. I radioed Justin to let him know an elk was headed his way, but we didn’t see him again.
We regrouped for lunch and decided to split up again for the evening hunt, hoping to improve our odds. This time, it paid off. With only 15 minutes until sunset, we rounded a corner and spotted a bull right off the road. I got within 62 yards and released my arrow, double-lunging a beautiful 6x6 bull. The bull took off like a bat out of hell, running into the pines. We searched for evidence of a hit but found no blood or arrow. As darkness fell, I retraced the bull's path and, to my relief, saw the glowing eyes of a downed elk. There he lay, with one spot of blood and my arrow next to him. The arrow had penetrated all the way to the fletchings, and when he fell into a tree and flipped over, the arrow came out.
We returned to camp to get Brent, Josh, and the side-by-side with a trailer attached. We were able to drive right up to the elk, load him onto the trailer, and take him back to camp, where we had better light to quarter him out. The excitement and joy of a successful hunt washed over us, and I felt a huge sense of relief that I wouldn’t be going home with a tag still in my pocket. We finally got back to the cabin around midnight, with everything on ice and a quick-frozen pizza to celebrate.
On day five, we went out for one last hunt before we had to get the meat and hide to the processor and taxidermist. Overall, the highs and lows of this trip made for an incredible experience. The opportunity to hunt new country and make new friends, combined with the camaraderie and escape from the stresses of everyday life, was truly unforgettable. The weather was perfect, and the memories we made will last a lifetime.
Thank you again, Tom Wagner and Heroes Rising Outdoors, for providing this opportunity of a lifetime.