2009 solo elk hunt

Alright, here's the story.

I left town at 0900 on Thursday, the truck packed to the bedrails with all my gear. That's the trouble with camping alone. You need all the same stuff as you'd need for many more people...but it's just you. Not sure how I would have room in the pickup for a critter, but I went with it.


Full truck

Rounded the bend to Butch's and my camp from two years ago and spooked a spike moose who ran through the camp, so I took that as a sign and didn't even look for another spot. At 1130 it was 42 degrees up there, but I got everything unloaded and set up the tent. I had to go get firewood!


My new tent


Vestibules are good


Got the crapper set up too


Approach to camp


Looking out of camp


Road outside of camp looking west

Road down the hill to the east

That far ridge is where I hunt

Professional Forest Service sign

Well, I drove down to the east and saw a coyote on the road, pretty neat. Got a quick little dead lodgepole and noticed that there was no one up there yet! One camp down there about a mile, but that was it for a ways. Arriving back in camp there was a LARGE bull moose checking out my tent. I shut the truck down and walked with him for a while...just interesting to watch moose.

I then started thawing my last elk steak for dinner. Since it was beginning to snow, I started a nice fire and got my cot and whatnot set up for a cold night. Dinner was good and simple...steak and beans. Hard to stay motivated when sitting next to a fire in a snowstorm.

The light aftermath

Well, the night was cold...actually it was frigid! I slept on a campmor bag, in a 20 degree down bag, and had my 40 degree synthetic draped on top of me. Long night.

The next day I had to get more wood. Figured if it was going to be that cold at night, then I wanted to be comfortable. I also realized I needed to figure out a way to rig a tarp canopy over the fire and get stuff organized for the first day of big game season. Off I went and managed to get a bunch of poles and enough wood to last a long time.

View from Summit camp. (27 degrees at 1200 and 15 w/windchill!)

View toward Clarkfork close to camp

Well, I got a tarp rigged and was fairly proud of myself. Getting a large tarp up on poles, in holes you dug in the ground, anchored, and stretched tight....all over a hot fire is quite an accomplishment!

My fancy tarp

The whole shebang

Well, that night it cleared up and dropped down into single digits. I had the great idea to put my 20 degree bag inside my 40 degree bag...that plus long johns and wool socks worked out great. Also, my Big Buddy heater and lantern allowed me to get the tent to about 50 degrees when turning in. That was welcome!

View inside my big tent

Moving counter-clockwise

Pile o'hunting gear

View out the door

So I went hiking in the morning and traveled for a good 2.5 hours before I was near where I wanted to really start getting stealthy. NOTHING. No tracks, no fresh sign, nada. I ran into another group of guys way out there who were there during archery season and they were pretty bummed that it was so desolate when 3 weeks ago it was hopping. Ran into a very nice whitetail buck, but wasn't about to shoot him when I was looking for elk. If I was going to pack something out of there it was going to be worth my time. Plus, that leaves me the rest of the season to hunt!

Since I didn't see anything, the next day I went across Whitetail Peak and headed down into a recent timber sale. I found some fresher tracks, probably Thursday morning, but they were followed by two sets of human tracks...so I didn't even try. I tried to sit down in the sun and away from the wind to eat something, but my fingers got so cold I didn't last long. I basically ran up the hill for a while until I got warmed up, but then started sweating...so I kinda defeated the purpose. Ran into some fellas carrying a forkhorn whitetail head down the hill. Really friendly, all they said was, "Howdy." Nice.

The next day was a camp day. I decided that since I was seeing so little sign, that I would bag it and move down into some front country and hunt from home. After being alone for 5 nights and talking to camp robbers and chipmunks, I decided it was time to bail. I was tired of all my veggies being frozen. Tired of frozen eggs. Tired of slushy hot sauce, jalepenos, and pickles. Tired of being COLD! In the mornings, it was becoming routine for me to start a fire and thaw out the lid of my water bucket. Then I had to use the blunt end of a hatchet to free the threads, then the sharp end to chip a hole down to water. Just to make coffee! My water bottle would freeze throughout the day. My fingers would freeze making a fire...I was worried I was going to chop one or two off using the hatchet for kindling! Everything was either frozen, melting, or burning. Not so much fun anymore.

So I took some funny photos that made me giggle for at least a half hour.

Happy Tom

It's freaking COLD!

Relaxing


Heeey

I burned my socks trying to dry them out after a 7 hour walk

The old meat pole Butch and I put up

I went home via the backroads and had the windows down by the time I got to Magee. 45 degrees at 1300?! What!? And that was pleasant!


Tate was happy I was back and wanted to go out the next time

Why you shouldn't ever be gone too long! (nono, it was actually that Stan and his friend were wondering if I wanted to go hunting with them.)

Well, I then took Wednesday off and put gear away and got ready to go out for cow season. Only three days, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday.

Thursday I went out before light to Deception creek and stopped the truck. Up on the hill above me I heard the sound of elk moving! I hustled down the road and managed to call in another hunter via cow calls. But still hearing the elk moving in behind me, he left and I waited for them. 50 yards away when the wind changed direction...I just held my head low...and sure enough 20 seconds later I heard them crashing away.

Friday I went to the same spot thinking they may be on a pattern and again called in the same guy. This time I was more aggressive (and thought he may be an elk ahead of me) and moved in on him. When we were finally able to see each other (about 20 yards...it's thick in there) I put my safety back on and heard his click as well. I must be doing something right, he thought I was an elk too!

Saturday morning I joined THRONGS of people heading into the hills and went to another area. Pissed off at 0630 in the morning, pre-sunrise is never good. Getting tailed on a dirt road at 0600 is never good. TRAFFIC IN THE WOODS is never good. I figured they would all stay on main ridges, so I went to Honeysuckle campground, gained about 1000 feet in elevation in a quarter mile...and contoured my way back towards five-finger saddle. Woke up a cow moose who just blinked at me like, "Oh dude, what time IS it?" She ambled off the way moose do. I hiked my butt off through all the brush, then gained another couple thousand feet (I'm exaggerating) and contoured BACK the way I came. I figured I'd cut something in there. Nope. No fresh sign, didn't spook any elk, didn't see anything. I made it back to the finger I needed to go down in order to get to the truck and checked the GPS for giggles. Half a mile!? Bull! The river is right there! I proceeded down the hill and spooked something big...figure it was probably the same moose...and hit another road. Huh? They don't call it Deception Creek for nothing! Sure enough, I had a ways to go.

I've never sweated that much going DOWNHILL before. It's crazy country out here, if the terrain doesn't get you, the brush will.

So, that was the quick and dirty story. I'm going to a new place on Saturday (the last day of elk season) which is in the front front front country to see what I can see. Cross your eyes, toes, fingers, and legs and we'll see what I can make happen. Then, it's all about deer.