Oregon 2008 Archery Elk Hunt

Well, the trip I wait for all year long has come and gone much more quickly than I would have liked, but I’m left with enough memories to pull me through another eleven months before I can take the trip once again.

Where do I even begin?  The trip was looking like a no go for me up until the week my uncle, Ray Waldo, prepared his party of 7 to head into the Oregon wilderness.  When it was confirmed that I would be tagging along, it put our number of tags in camp up to eight, and we’d be packing in with eight mules and two horses.  It was my idea that I’d follow Ray and his son, Cody, for the bulk of the trip with my video camera, but I decided if they hadn’t killed by Wednesday, I was hunting the last two days for myself.

 Breathtaking canyons.

The long bumpy road ends high in the breaks of the Snake River at roughly 6,700 feet, and our pack - and I use that word loosely as for me and Rory Mossman, it would be nothing more than a hike - would take us to camp at about 6,000 feet.  I think we hit all points between 7,000 feet and 5,000 feet between the trailhead and camp, though!  I was thinking I was pretty tough, and the hike doesn’t have too terrible much as far as ups and downs go, so I loaded up my pack despite the others claiming I was a nut for carrying so much weight.  I weighed my pack at 45 pounds, then added my camera equipment and bow - so I figure I must have been carrying very close to 60 pounds.  Still, not a ton of weight for a hike that, again, doesn’t run steeply up or down for miles at a time like some of the trails in that country.  If I would have only observed the comment from Cody and taken it more seriously when he reminded me, “Twelve miles is twelve miles, no matter how you cut it.”  Well, it shouldn’t take a brainiac to figure out, when I got to camp, I was considerably pooped, and frankly I was wondering if I would be able to make it back out in 7 days - not to mention doing any hiking from base camp during the hunt!

 My lone day of hunting I spent in the bottom of this beautiful canyon.

It was Saturday when we hiked in, and the hikers made it in about 5 1/2 hours (I slowed the group way down with my weighty burden!) and the packers made it in about 4 hours.  When we arrived, I thought it’d be a nice evening of relaxation, but instead, after a couple hours of setting camp up, it was time for an evening hunt.  I stuck to my plan of following Ray and Cody - and I regretted the decision.  They pulled off about a five mile evening hunt and left me very glad that Sunday was a day we take a break from the hunting - I was needing it!

We had a few opportunities on the trip - once, Cody spotted an elk in a meadow while we tromped through the timber, so he quickly set Ray up and he dropped back to call.  Apparently, we found ourselves in the middle of quite a herd of elk as suddenly off to our left where we had no idea any elk even were, there was the loud tell-tale crashing of a spooked elk.  The wind was heading directly that way, so it was no surprise that any elk over there would spook - the reason for the surprise was that there was elk over there.  Ray and I stood up, then, and I caught a glimpse of a racked bull pearing into the timber straight ahead of us at about 40 yards away.  The timber was real thick, and there was no shot opportunity, so we started back as the bull eventually decided he didn’t like the set up and he wandered off.

The next day we were in the same general area when a bull bugled - giving us the opportunity we wanted.  We raced into position with the wind in our favor and again Cody started calling while Ray and I set up between him and the bull.  Cody’s calls would elicit a bugle now and again, and it was obvious the bull was coming closer.  The problem, however, is that he had been below us, and Cody had set up accordingly, but now he was level with us as far as altitude goes, and now it sounded like he was going to come straight in.  Cody was about to move to pull the bull below us, when we caught sight of the lead cow heading straight for Cody - less than 50 yards away.  I signaled for Cody to stop calling and he spotted the cow - and knew he wouldn’t be able to move.  When I glanced back toward the route the bull was likely to take, he was only 30 yards away!  He stepped behind a tree, and I hissed to Ray who hadn’t seen the bull, “Get ready!  He’s right behind this tree and is going to step out broadside!”  Next thing I knew, the bull had turned and trotted back into the thick timber.  I still don’t know whether the bull heard my voice or saw movement he didn’t like, but I feel at least partly responsible for that missed opportunity - and that grates on me.  The bull had been a nice rack and was certainly coming to Cody’s calls, add in the fact that we were now between the bull and his lead cow, and I am very frustrated that we didn’t connect on this guy.

 Not the best view when you know that’s what you’ve got to hike back up to get back to camp.

The rest of the trip we had encounters with a few spikes, a few bugles that never materialized, and I had one very close encounter with a wasp.  Being alergic, I was more than a bit concerned, but I had no reaction other than swelling up rather mildly.  The thing stung me on the back of the hand that had hold of the camera, so I was happy to see that the camera that managed to leap out of my hands during the incident was unharmed when Cody retreived it.

As the week unfolds, I’ll have more stories to share from our trip, but the short run down is that we had a great time in some beautiful country, but the weather was pretty warm and the elk, while they were rutting, were certainly not going crazy, yet.  Of the eight tags (I only hunted one day, so really, only seven tags) we came out with one bull.  Rory tagged a 5 x 4 on the last day of the hunt - and because he was an out of stater, he was glad to show something for his money spent!

 Ray takes a quick snooze in the afternoon.