We can talk about my cool ninja pajamas in another installment, but in this clip there is a behind-the-scenes catastrophe I want to bring to your attention.
The whole point of this clip is in the first sentence. Most of us think we have to tiptoe around elk, afraid to snap a twig or give away our location. But elk are loud, brash critters, and sometimes you can calm them down by sounding just like them. [ Read Full Post ]
This installment of Record Quest focuses on setting up to call bulls with a partner.
There’s some good information in the clip, but for me the highlight is the bugle that sounds exactly like your dog when his tail gets slammed in the door. [ Read Full Post ]
Hunting Editor and Record Quest Host Andrew McKean took this great bull in Colorado. What do you think it scores? Post your guess in the comments section and the first reader with the right score will win a Leatherman Super Tool 300, valued at $60.
The contest ends on November 15, 2011. [ Read Full Post ]
You hear commotion coming from a patch of timber and sneak closer for a look. It’s a pair of bull elk sparring with intensity and oblivion to approaching danger.
They are so intent on kicking each other’s arse that they have no idea you are watching them, and as you sneak closer your own blood rises. You may be able to slip a shaft (or a bullet or a spear…) into one of them as they sort out their hierarchy. [ Read Full Post ]
My mom used to say I had a face for radio and a voice for newspapers.
Maybe that’s why I gravitated to writing and reporting as I cast about for a profession in my younger years. It suited my appearance to be behind the camera rather than in front of it, and it suited my personality to be the man behind pen instead of the guy being quoted. [ Read Full Post ]
Sometimes, taking your own advice can seem medicinal. You know it’s good for you, but you don’t really want to swallow it. I was thinking that Friday night, looking at a fat cow elk through my bow’s peep sight. I was at full draw and waiting for her to take one more step before triggering my release and sailing a broadhead through her vitals.
My first thought was, “She’s not a bull.” The second thought was “She’s inside 30 yards and doesn’t know I’m here.” Then I thought, “In another three steps she’s going to bust me and take every other elk in this canyon with her -- But I don’t see any other elk behind her.”
It went on like this, an angel-and-devil conversation in either ear, for what seemed like 10 minutes. It was probably less than 10 seconds, but whether I would shoot her or not hung in the balance for an eternity. The conversation sounded something like this:
“It’s my last day of archery elk hunting. It’s this cow or nothing.”
“But it’s called ‘Record Quest.’ Do folks really want to read about a trophy cow?” [ Read Full Post ]
I can’t recall another time when I hoped that I didn’t see a big bull. But it was so hot last weekend in the Missouri River Breaks that I fretted what I’d do if I actually got an elk on the ground.
Would I phone in a helicopter retrieval? Race to dunk roasts and loins in the cool water of Fort Peck Reservoir, two miles away and 500 feet in elevation below me? Hang ribbons of meat in trees to cure like Sioux jerky?
By the time I threw in the towel yesterday and started hiking out of the interior of the breaks, the temperature had hit 90 degrees. I’ve seen elk spoil in temperatures around freezing, so my worry about losing meat was both understandable and laughably irrelevant. [ Read Full Post ]