Boulder Ridge

The second to last day; we haven’t seen much fresh sign in three days now and were starting to lose hope.  We decide to go to a new area for the day just to see if we could get lucky. The first opening we drive into there is elk sign everywhere. The excitement begins to rise. We continue on and hope to jump something in the open. Getting close to the end of the road Josh and I decide to jump and the freshest tracks we have seen. We track and track and track. The droppings are so fresh when you pick them up you can still feel them warm.  They drop into a dark nasty hole and we decide to turn around and make a game plan with the rest of the party. We decide to drive down a ridge and hunt the opposite direction that we were when we were tracking; hoping to cut them off. We are just about to crest the ridge and the smell of elk comes into my nose. They are close. The winds weren’t in our favor and right as we crested the ridge the whole world started to move. Brown flashes all around. Getting tunnel vision I see the limbs of a tree shake to my left and take off at a full tilt. Not getting a shot off we come back to where we first saw them and seeing the beds we can see there was a herd of 50 or more. What a thrill and that’s why I go hunting.

2011 Trip

This was a great season. The elk hunting wasn’t the best but the fun we had made up for it. For the first time ever I had a really good friend of mine up hunting with me. Josh came elk hunting for the first time and I don’t think we has disappointed. The two times we tracked fresh elk tracks we were very close but just unfortunately weren’t able to get a shot off. We laughed a lot and I think we got more than just memories out of this trip I think we made our friendship stronger. I know this is what hunting trips are for no matter the outcome. We go to have a good time and to kindle friendships .

My First Trip

I have been going hunting with my dad since I was 5 years old. I haven’t missed a year in my 18 years of living. The stories that my dad loves to tell about me in the tent are as followed. I can remember when you were so small you would be walking in the snow and it would be so deep and you had to crawl over all the logs we crossed you were covered from head to toe in snow. You used to sit on Al’s lap and I would asks whacha ya doin and with little plastic pistol in hand shot out the window and say I’m huntin deeeers dad. These are the memories I get to remember every year I go hunting.

Three Generation Trip

My most memorable hunting trip to date thus far in my life was the one in 2001. This was the year my grandpa, dad and I all went on the same hunting trip. The hunting is the worst I can remember. The ground was dry and the air was hot. We spent the majority of the time lying in the back of the truck shooting pop cans hung in a tree with a bee-bee gun. When we weren’t doing that we were up to shenanigans. We rolled a hug rock down this hill and it hit a tree and broke it about half way up its trunk. The hunting was the worst hunting I have ever had but the trip will be one I will remember the rest of my life.