For me, hunting elk is indeed the best of times and the worst of times, albeit in reverse order. My first ever elk hunt had an ominous beginning, you see. As my flight landed in Denver in mid-November, the flurries were just starting to fall as a storm system moved up from the south. This was the start of the largest blizzard southern Colorado had seen in decades, and since we were hunting a few hours south of Denver, that made getting to the lodge that afternoon a dicey proposition. My connecting flight to Colorado Springs was already cancelled, but fortunately the Hornady representative driving from Nebraska was able to reroute and pick me up at Denver International. That began a terrifying drive on I-25 South.
Once we got through Colorado Springs, the snow really started to come down. Traffic slowed to 20 mph, which seemed too fast given the condition of the road. When we hit Pueblo, we learned the Interstate was closed at the southern end of that city, forcing us to stay overnight at a local hotel. The road wouldn’t open again until 10 the next morning, meaning our first day of hunting was out the window.
A bit more than 2 feet of snow ended up on the ground, which I assumed would make the hunting a bit easier once the elk started moving again. I figured the fluffy white blanket on the ground would provide we hunters with three advantages: hungry elk looking to forage after the blizzard, large animals that would contrast nicely against the snow and tracks even a novice could easily pick up. I was wrong.
Winchester’s Supreme Long Range and its BC Max bullet delivered the goods: It broke the bull’s shoulder and devastated the lung before settling in the chest. A Browning X-Bolt 2 Speed in .300 Win. Mag. delivered the accurate killing shot.
Apparently, that much snow makes elk just as homebound as people. I guess the bulls wanted to trudge through the cold, wet mess as much as I look forward to shoveling my driveway. Furthermore, it turns out short-legged humans like myself are not the most nimble creatures when forced to walk through snow that, in places, reached the groin area. Add to that someone accustomed to sea level engaging in vastly more strenuous activity than expected at around 9,000 to 10,000 feet, and my chances at any elk—bull or cow—went from likely to zero. In fact, in five days of hunting, I did not see an elk, despite the outstanding guide’s best efforts. Then, near sunset on the last day, seven cows finally showed themselves at about 700 yards from where we set up atop a ridge. That was a shot I didn’t want to take, and it was also a shot I could not take, as that particular property was on the no-cows side of the outfitter’s land.
Despite such disappointment and physical discomfort, I thoroughly enjoyed the hunt. Actually, that is a lie. I despised every second of walking through snow that froze my nether regions while huffing and puffing in the thin mountain air. But, I did actually revel in the outstanding company and the beauty of the Rocky Mountains. Still, I had no elk.
Fast forward 11 months, and I was fortunate to be invited on another elk hunt, this time as a guest of Browning and Winchester Ammunition in northern New Mexico, just 90 minutes or so south of where I encountered Grandfather Frost in southern Colorado. Despite the relatively short distance between the two hunting grounds, the contrast in weather and struggle could not have been more stark. browning.com
First off, it was early October, and the daytime highs were near 70, which made for a far more comfortable proposition than snow encasing my legs with every step. We also had more time to zero our rifles, which was made even easier by the fact we were making use of the lodgings at the NRA Whittington Center in Raton, N.M., about a half hour north of where we’d be hunting. As this was a launch event for Winchester’s new Supreme Long Range ammunition, we were able to make use of the Whittington Center’s incredible facilities to zero our rifles then engage steel at targets well beyond ethical shooting ranges to see just how accurate these new loads were. winchester.com
Using a suppressed Browning X-Bolt 2 Speed SPR in .300 Win. Mag. with a Leupold VX-4HD scope, I was able to shoot sub-MOA groups with little effort at 750 yards from a bench, and at 600 yards I could confidently keep every round within a steel deer’s vital zone off shooting sticks. The Supreme Long Range rounds were certainly accurate at … supremely long ranges—at least for hunting. leupold.com
The next stark contrast from my first elk hunt was encountered on the first morning of hunting. We set out into the backcountry in an old, reliable pickup, and within 15 minutes came across a group (I hesitate to call it a herd) of five or six elk cows. What took me five full days of freezing my tuchus off a year earlier took less time than it takes to get to the first bathroom break while watching a football game, and I was comfortably sitting in a warm truck when it happened. The hunt was on.
We exited the vehicle and began to briskly walk through a gully to, in the immortal words of Slim Pickens as Taggart, “head ’em off at the pass.” In the equally immortal words of Harvey Korman as Hedley Lamarr, “I hate that cliché,” too, but I have a word count to fill. Head them off we did, and, as we hoped, two bulls were following the ladies. The first was a bit small, although about a year earlier I’d have leapt at the chance on it, or any elk or elk-like critter given my horrible suffering in the mountain snows. The second fellow, however, was an outstanding representation of the species—a near perfect 6x6 bull elk.
It was 336 yards away, so I set up on the shooting sticks, held about halfway up the elk’s body, where I knew the Supreme Long Range round would land in the vitals, and squeezed the X-Bolt 2’s excellent trigger. I was rewarded with the telltale slap of the bullet impacting, and the bull—clearly fatally damaged—poorly sauntered about 100 yards around a bend before shuffling off its mortal coil.
I can still feel the sheer joy of that moment today, and I imagine I will for the rest of my life. Not only was this a rare opportunity to take an animal I have always wanted to hunt, it was also a release after the struggle of my previous, freezing, wet, uncomfortable and unsuccessful hunt.
Friedman soaks in the realization that he’s taken a trophy he always wanted. Of course he took home all 266 pounds of meat and ordered a pedestal mount.
After the obligatory hero photos, we took to preparing the animal for transport to the meat processor in town. In so doing, we were able to recover the 195-grain Winchester BC Max bullet, which had broken the elk’s front shoulder and devastated the near-side lung before stopping in the chest cavity. It would be difficult to ask for more out of a bullet, and given its outstanding accuracy, I have zero complaints about Supreme Long Range’s efficacy. Of course, it helps to shoot it out of a rifle capable of better-than-the-guy-shooting-it accuracy, and given that this was the second animal (the first being an antelope in the same area of New Mexico in 2023) I’ve taken with a Browning X-Bolt 2 Speed, I have nothing but praise for that platform, too.
Perhaps because of my initial struggle hunting elk, I opted to go a bit overboard with the taxidermy and meat, to make up for my initial failure. I’m awaiting the arrival of a pedestal mount, and I had to buy a chest freezer from Walmart to hold the 260-odd pounds of meat this majestic animal provided my family—and my friends, neighbors and work colleagues; there’s only so much elk one family can eat.
So, while hunting is indeed about a great deal more than the kill, I have learned that I much prefer hunts that end with success. Also, the benefit of struggle before success has been reinforced. While I’d gladly never again trudge through gonad-freezing snow at nearly 2 miles above sea level, I’m glad I did, because the thrill of success after the agony of failure makes it that much sweeter.
