I grew up in Oregon as a rifle hunter, hunting the elusive black tail deer and Easter Oregon Rocky Mountain Elk. Realizing I wasn’t able to hunt bulls in the early fall due to work demands, I started researching what States had late season elk or deer tags available. Colorado had some leftover tags, easy to purchase and we had planned to spend Thanksgiving there anyways. After a few minutes convincing the other boss I would meet her there with our baby daughter after the hunt, I bought the tags and spent the next two months daydreaming. Having never hunted the state before I didn’t know what to expect, the unit was minutes from Vail, lowest elevation 9,000’ and it was bordering the Continental Divide.
I’m not one to become intimidated easy, especially when something involves a physical endeavor due to the nature of my job. Opening day, 22nd November 2014. After driving 15hrs from San Diego, I slept in a parking lot at Silverthorne for 3 hours, woke up at 4 a.m., jet boil fuel too cold to light, so the 7/11 bear claw and hotdog did the trick. Drive to the trailhead before light. With a daypack and food for the day, I headed up the trail; it wasn’t 400yrds into the walk when the tactical gods started whispering into my ears to get to the high ground for a better field of view. Sun wasn’t officially up but it was becoming light. I only had to climb 800’ in elevation but the snow was about 18” deep and the hill was covered in deadfall. This is when I realized the 9000’ elevation had a vote. After 1 hour from leaving the car I was on top of the ridgeline with a better field of view.
It was elk highway, tracks crisscrossing in the snow. That’s where I stopped to take in the view, I took a video, silent, no wind, no birds, nothing. Snapped a few pics, thought for a second how lucky I was to be there as well as those that we’re no longer with me to share this story. LLTBH. I continued for another 30 minutes where I came to a break in the trees along the ridge top, enabling me to view out as far as I could shoot over 3 different ridgelines. Perfect. I was hoping to get a chance to stretch the legs of the custom 30-378. It had a MTU contour barrel and a Manners T5 stock. It wasn’t light but made up for it in accuracy. I figured this would be a perfect spot to set up for a shot and start glassing. I laid out the ground pad on top of the snow, set up the kestrel with applied ballistics with the range card screen pulled up for quick reference and then preceded to glass.
30 minutes later I heard branches breaking, two cows and a calf were sprinting up from the bottom of the canyon towards the ridgeline across from me. Didn’t expect this, was hoping for a further shot. I had already collected several ranges when I first set up and I knew the ridgeline across from me was 330yrds. My gun was sighted in for 300yrds. I knew there wouldn’t be any dialing today if I took the shot.
As the elk ran up through the deep snow and the deadfall across from me I contemplated a few things. If I don’t take the opportunity I would really regret passing up the shot if this was the only elk I saw. On the other hand, part of the experience is the hunt itself and I’m only 2 ½ hours into opening day. Excitement got the better of me, once the first cow reached the top of the ridge she came to a quick stop and looked back down towards the other two. I hit where I aimed, high in the right shoulder as she was quartering away. She dropped in her tracks, not a twitch. Nice thing about all that snow and low temperature is it’s easy to keep the meat clean and cooled out quick. After deboning using the gutless method laying the meat out on top of the snow to cool, I spent the rest of the day making two insanely punishing trips, constantly bouncing from low to moderate hypoxia symptoms from the elevation.
To get to the closest trail I had to traverse two steep ravines in deep snow, through a deadfall area with a 100+ lbs pack. My body ached all over after it was done but later realized I made the right decision to take her, on the last pack out, not 400yrds from the trailhead, it started snowing, it turned into a blizzard that evening and the storm sustained for 4 days. That night I feasted on a large steak dinner in Silverthorne and a bottle of wine in the hotel hot tub. Life doesn’t get much better, memories, experiences to grow from, and an appreciation for the outdoors.
Given I was only 2 miles from a road, that day I quickly realized that the hard work required to backpack hunt a wilderness was demanding, unremitting and the character testing style of hunting that I needed. When I walked into the wilderness I was craving discovery, when I walked out I felt complete. When I’m away from it, it calls me. Blood. Sweat. Reward.
LL#1: When traversing downhill in snow with a heavy pack always take it off your back and slide it down behind you. One misstep (or 10 in my case) and you could easily break a leg. I had one black eye, a couple gashes on my face and a near knee snap from the diggers I took.
LL#1: For mid-late season (possible snow) hunts bring a small tarp in addition to a ground pad, a ground pad will insulate but they’re too narrow, a spread out tarp with a ground pad on top will prevent snow from getting next to your clothing->condensation->wet.
Backcountry Precision
Blood. Sweat. Reward