MEMBER STORY
the Dry Fork where they spent two summers. When I packed them out last summer, they showed me their find- no gold or quarts left around. Just rotten old sluice boxes hued out of fur logs where the creek had washed gravel and rocks over them many years ago. This story goes, that on the second trip, when they hit the plains south of Great Falls on their way home, the Blackfeet Indians overtook them. When the dust settled on this skirmish, they had no gold and no hair! “While hunting mountain goat years after this I found three different places where someone had painted the British Shield on the cliffs facing west at the foot of Cabin Creek Reef.” “I cannot answer you, my son, but I can tell you someone built piles of stone marking a trail and painted my face with that old British Shield. Daylight is approaching and it’s time for me to go. Write down your experiences, my friend, so others might know of your love for the mountains, animals and fellow man.” From up here with nothing to do but think, my mind gets to running away. I’ve seen so many big years of advancement I could never put it all in one book- gas-powered carriages, diesel motors, radio, flying machines to supersonic jets. Now, men on the moon and weapons so accurate you can pinpoint a target miles out of sight. There is also television and laser light even used for bloodless operations. Then there’s this do-hickey that doctors use where they can see inside of you to tell what ails you. This has most happened in less then my lifetime of 78 years. Have I had a full life? You can bet I have! This all makes me feel I must be one special guy for the Lord to have let me live through this period and have such a wonderful memory of the past. Howard is gone now but his memories live on in his four books. There may not be any bowhunting adventures in his books but the hunting adventures spun by a good story teller more then makes up for it. Hope you enjoyed this one chapter it sure brings back memories for me.
Marlon Clapham Thanks to: Stoneydale Press Publishing Company 205 Main Street – Drawer B Stevensville Mt. 59870 Phone: 406-777-2729
UNBELIEVABLE
A 2020 Archery Elk Hunt By Rick Miller
W
hile eating breakfast and watching the morning news another political ad came on dissing the opponent. Having had more than my stomach could take of this childish mean-mouthing I grabbed the remote and turned the channel to one of the “outdoor” shows. What I randomly selected had a well-known professional hunter on and he had just killed a bull elk. He acted excited and said this one was special as it was his 65th bull taken with a bow. I really was not paying attention until that unbelievable number was tossed out for viewers to digest. The hunter appears to be at least ten years my junior (my opinion) so that meant multiple bull harvests for lots of years in his bowhunting career. Having been an absolute elk hunting junkie since age 12, I found his success to be hard to comprehend. In my world, it is just not that easy? For some odd reason, the thought of seemingly easy success with some of todays professionals was on my mind as I was setting up the wall tent for my 2020 elk hunt. What could I change to increase a close-range opportunity at a bull? Could I dream up something new that the bulls might be more relaxed with? I am sure fellow elk hunters have that same thought running through their minds as normal strategies become almost elk repellent with pressured public land bulls. Hot temps had kept me home for the first three weeks of the season. The thought of losing an animal to the summer like temperatures was not acceptable, but it was killing me not to be out there in the game. The weather forecast for the week ahead was better (not great) and the rut was happening despite the warmer than normal conditions. I pushed hard for six days, hitting all the spots I had seen elk in before, but saw few animals. Those that I did catch a glimpse of were just flashes through the trees. The few bugles I heard were right on the edges of too dark (morning & evening) and on adjoining private ground. Hunting was tough to say the least. Fifty years of experience has taught me that an opportunity could come at any time if I would just keep trying. Mentally I was ok. Physically I was starting to wear down. On the seventh morning, I decided to hunt an area that I’d had success in before, keeping in mind the wind change I could feel as I left the tent. Walking in the dark, I could hear two bulls bugling in the direction I was headed, definitely boosting my interest. As daylight broke, a herd of whitetail does and fawns spooked out of the meadow in front of me. They stomped and snorted for at least 15 minutes trying to get me to move. Finally, they gave up and moved into the trees. I was sure the elk gig was over with that many alarm
sounds resonating in the basin. I shook my head at the crazy luck I was having and started moving towards the bulls. Surprisingly, the bugling started again. Game on! I noticed that the bugles came from the same spots and that the exchanged appeared to be more advertising to the cows than challenges to other bulls. Thus, I resisted bugling back at them. The game trail I was on led to a perfect north side shaded bench. Once on the bench elk sign was evident, so I set up to see if a cow call might gain some interest. I am certainly not an expert caller, but for some reason the calls were pitch perfect (why can’t I do that all the time?). The bulls would answer, but in a passive tone. I was being very careful about overcalling and decided to stop after hearing a cow respond. I figured if I sounded good enough for a cow to buy-in, maybe I had set the stage? I sat down in an open spot and decided to just sit there all day if I had to. They had heard a cow (me) and I hoped it was going to play on their minds as the day went on. After an hour or so of absolute quiet, the sun hit my little spot on the bench. Early morning get-ups had me tired, so I laid down against my pack to relax a bit. I should have known better as getting comfortable led to me falling asleep. Not sure how long I had been snoozing, when I heard a bugle so close that I thought the bull was standing over me. Luckily, I had enough composure coming out of “out scout” mode to not sit up as I could hear a big animal walking towards me. Being completely exposed where I was, I pushed myself backwards on my stomach to a juniper that was just below. I put an arrow on the string and rose to my knees. At that moment I felt the changing thermals shifting to a direction directly downwind to the elk. My mind was racing about what to do when I remembered that I had a small spray bottle of cow elk scent in my pocket. I also noticed that the approaching animal had stopped (guessing it got a very slight hint of human in the thermals). I sprayed my hat with the scent and got ready for whatever was going to happen. I was surprised when I heard the bull continue towards me (the scent must have worked). I shifted my body to a solid shooting position and tried to focus. The animal that stepped out of the trees was absolutely amazing. He was only twenty-five yards away when he cleared so I tried not to look at anything but where I wanted to place the arrow. He was approaching head-on and then turned broadside to avoid a log laying in the trail. A small pine tree he had to go by provided a spot for me to draw. When he stepped clear at twenty yards, I saw a black fletched arrow headed his way. That
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Winter 2020
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