After 18 months of anticipation, training and planning, the time had come. We were in the Flat Tops Wilderness of Colorado. Our guide, Colton, my hunting partner, Jim, and I stood waiting, hoping and praying that the bull elk we saw minutes earlier when we entered the meadow would return.
Having been an avid whitetail hunter for over 30 years, I’ve always dreamed of going on a Western elk hunt. My passion led me to create social media pages called “Philly Burbs Bowhunters” so Philadelphia area hunters could share their successes and stories. My wonderful, amazing wife has graciously supported my hunting obsession through the years and advocated making this elk hunt a reality.
The day before the season opened, we negotiated on the way to camp Transfer Trail, which was deeply rutted, mired in mud and at some points only as wide as our vehicle. It was strewn with large rocks, fallen trees and branches. We stopped at an overlook to take in the amazing view. Little did I know at that time but across several canyons was a prominent meadow that would later be the focal point of our hunt.
The opening day of the 2024 archery season dawned on Sept. 2. The best way I can describe the hunting is to picture the steepest hill you’ve ever climbed and then imagine hiking that up, down, sideways, every three to five steps negotiating a deadfall that is knee to crotch height, while carrying your bow and daypack. Our guide, Colton, resembled a Billy goat, quickly and easily climbing the hills while Jim and I constantly lagged behind.
While walking to camp at twilight that evening, we rounded a corner and saw two enormous bull moose. We watched these magnificent animals for several minutes while they fed directly toward and behind our camp.
On Wednesday morning, we woke up to rain showers and started our hike. That afternoon we set up in a small patch of woods in a vast meadow. Colton suggested that we move farther uphill since his initial calls didn’t receive any response, and we didn’t see any movement during our glassing. As we exited the tree line, we immediately spotted a 5x5 bull about 150 yards away that had been coming in silently to Colton’s calls. He also spied us and turned to trot off in the opposite direction of his approach. Colton directed us to dash up the steep incline of the meadow to the next patch of woods so he could see whether he could convince the bull to return. We promptly sprinted up the hill a few hundred yards and set up with Jim on the upside of the trees, Colton in the middle and me on the downside. Colton began calling again and the bull responded. He unexpectedly appeared below us in the meadow on the other side of the trees about 40 yards away. I couldn’t see him and only heard Colton frantically whisper “draw, draw, draw.” I drew back my bow and readied for the shot I had practiced thousands of times. The bull appeared broadside and stopped while staring a hole through me. I thought I completely missed the bull as I saw my arrow and lighted nock sailing on the other side of him. He turned and ran downhill, stopping broadside again while looking back. I shot again and saw that arrow land with the lighted nock sticking out of his body. He abruptly ran off the way he had come. It was about 7:20 p.m., and the three of us tried to recollect everything that had just occurred. The decision was made to leave and return the next morning. As we drove back to camp, it began violently thundering and lightning, raining and even hailing. My spirits sank realizing that any blood trail would be completely washed away by morning. That night was spent tossing, turning and staring at the top of our tent, replaying the shots in my head and wondering if we would recover the elk in the morning.
The next day, all three of us returned and started the search. About 150 yards from where the elk was standing at the last shot, I found some bull tracks and marked the spot. A few minutes later I heard Colton yell out with great excitement, “Congrats on your first Colorado bull elk!” To say I was relieved would be a complete understatement, and I was immediately overcome with gratitude, thanking God for the elk I was blessed to have killed.
The trip was everything I had dreamed of and so much more. I feel so thankful and blessed for this opportunity. I certainly couldn’t have done it without the support of my family, friends, the outfitter, our guide, Colton, Jim and most importantly God.
