Hunting and the outdoors are an integral part of my life, one ingrained in me by my father and his father, and nurtured over the following decades by continued exposure whenever possible. Now that I too am a father, I’ve learned that one of the greatest responsibilities of that job is introducing my children to the hunting lifestyle I cherish so much. I am compelled to take my family afield, to show them the importance of nature in our increasingly urbanized world, and to instill in them the same love of the outdoors and the desire to contribute to its conservation. Over the past several years, the NM Department of Game and Fish seems to have finally realized that providing opportunities for our youth is critical to the future of hunting, and thus the NMDGF. There are a number of youth only hunts in NM, and for those kids unlucky enough to get skunked in the random draw each spring, there are “Encouragement Hunts” offered later in the year, in which youth hunters who applied for, but did not draw, a big game hunt can purchase a cow elk license on a first come, first served basis.
Like last year, I secured an elk tag for my 13-year old daughter and 11-year old son. Their tags would be valid in one of the renowned Gila National Forest’s several game management units. Their hunt was to start on the Friday after Thanksgiving, meaning that our family would once again give thanks for all of life’s wonders in the most wonderful place of all – the great outdoors. And to make it an even better celebration, my parents agreed to join us in elk camp, bringing three generations into the forest.
The wife, kids, and I spent the weekend prior to Thanksgiving getting everything ready and loading the truck and camper for the trip. We finalized the preparations Wednesday morning and departed on time to meet my folks for lunch and last-minute supplies in the last town of any size. Then it was over the mountains and into the forest for the next several days. We arrived at last year’s camp site (a National Forest campground) to find a number of camps already in place. Seeking a bit more solitude, we reversed course and selected another location with a great view.
Dad and I rose early on Thanksgiving to go do a little scouting. By sunrise we had seen a couple groups of elk and located a nice dead alligator juniper to convert to firewood. We returned to camp, gathered up the crew and woodcutting gear, and then headed back out to get a bit of firewood.
While out and about, we caught sight of this young fellow.
From there it was back to camp to start a nice fire, warm our hands, and get ready for the fine Thanksgiving dinner my wife and mom had prepared, mostly in advance to facilitate a smooth dining experience. Soon we were all fat and happy and ready to call it an early night. The kids readied their hunting gear, clothes, and everything else needed for opening morning and hit the sack.
Opening morning dawned clear and cold, and we left camp early to get to where Dad and I had seen a nice group of elk the morning before. There was already a truck nearby (too bad for us), so we enacted Plan B and headed to our backup location. That turned out to be good for us, because not long after we got there I spotted some elk moving through the trees on a nearby ridge. The wide open valley floor was between us and the bottom of the hill on which the elk were traveling. With few options, we took the direct approach right across the valley towards the elk until we were less than 200 yards from herd on the hill. Dad and I got the kids set up on the Primos Trigger Sticks and started trying to find a clear shot through the thick Ponderosa pines. Finally, a nice large cow stepped into a small opening, presenting a perfect broadside shot for my daughter. She wasted no time, and quickly sent a 185 grain bullet on its way from the Ruger Hawkeye in .338 Federal. I watched the bullet strike through the binocular and knew she had made a solid hit. We kept our eyes on the cow while the herd scattered, mostly heading up the ridge or over the hill. Just as the kid was about to put another round down range, the cow tipped over, coming to rest at an awkward angle on the steep slope.
About then, we spotted a lone cow not far from the downed elk. My son got back into position, and when the elk stopped to the sounds of our cow calling, he took his shot. Unfortunately, his case of buck fever resulted in a clean miss, and the cow quickly left the country for a safer haven. Dad and I consulted and decided that the boy and I would try to follow the herd to see if he could get another shot while he and my daughter worked their way up the ridge to secure the dead cow. We worked farther up the canyon and deeper into the forest, but didn’t catch up to the herd, so we returned to find that the other two had easily located the elk. Being the nice guys we are, we fetched their hot drinks from the truck before crossing the valley and hiking up to where they had a nice little fire going to stave off the morning chill while we field dressed the cow.
Though the hill upon which the elk died was fairly steep, it wasn’t terribly high, so we were able to drag/roll her down to the valley bottom. From there, recovery was fairly easy with a slow steady drag through the grass to where the road dipped enough to back the truck up to a dirt bank and slide her in. With the day warming quickly, we opted to return to camp and tend to the elk we had rather than continue hunting for another. Using the hitch-mounted game winch, we hoisted the elk to get her skinned, quartered, and stowed on ice.
Good carnivores that we are, we sliced off a few choice cuts and roasted them over the open fire for a little snack.
We headed back for an afternoon hunt, and while looking for elk, my son spotted three turkeys moving through the trees. Since I had a fall turkey tag in my pocket (never hurts to be prepared!), we immediately shifted our focus from elk to the big birds. Using stealth and speed (aka a raging sprint), we were able to get in front of the three turkeys, and as they wandered by, I put the ol’ Mossberg to good use on the largest of the bunch. He wasn’t the true Thanksgiving turkey I had hoped for when I bought the tag, but he was only a day late!
That was to be the high point of the afternoon, as we spotted no elk before dark. The whole second day was a repeat, with no opportunities at elk. We did see a few up-and-coming mule deer bucks though.
And we converted one of my turkey’s breasts, along with some boring old chicken breasts, into some tasty fajitas.
Day 3 of our hunt broke cold and windy, which during past hunts has worked out well for me. Although elk are usually on higher alert, wind creates opportunities to get closer because one can get away with more movement and more noise than in calmer conditions. And it almost worked! We had two chances at elk, but just couldn’t put all the pieces together to get the boy a good shot on a cow. After a nice hike through some beautiful country, we made our way back to camp to hide from the wind for a couple hours while enjoying lunch.
The weather was getting worse by now, and we were treated to a bit of spitting snow to go along with the wind during our afternoon hunt. We weren’t very hopeful given that we had yet to see an elk in the evening, so I was quite surprised to spot a few head at a pond I had glassed dozens of times in the past to no avail. Darkness was closing in fast, and the wind wasn’t great, but we went for it anyway. We had to cut crosswind a bit in an attempt to keep them from catching our scent, and then the sneak was on. As we neared the pond, the wind shifted again, and I was sure the elk would be able to smell us. Shortly after, I caught sight of them cutting through the trees straight downwind of us, clearly on the way out at a trot. The boy got set up on the Trigger Sticks with his Marlin X7.308 pointed at a narrow clearing between a couple juniper trees. I was staring stupidly at the opening as elk streamed through it when the kid brought me back to reality by hissing through clenched teeth, “call, call, call.” I snapped out of it and brought my trusty Orion elk call to my lips and let out a couple short cow calls. At the sound, a nice cow stepped into the clearing and stopped, presenting a classical broadside shot. The little .308 barked and we were rewarded with the sound of a solid hit.
Darkness fell, the wind continued to howl, and we gave the cow a few minutes to expire before taking up the trail. We proceeded to where the cow stood at the shot to look for sign of the hit. We found none, so we started moving slowly along the trail the elk had taken, switching between watching the ground for blood and looking out ahead for a dead elk. A couple hundred yards later, my dad whispered, “eyes up ahead.” I quickly scanned that direction with my brighter flashlight and caught sight of the cow’s tawny form slipping through the Ponderosas. Fearing that we had made a marginal hit, we opted to wait another 20 minutes, hoping the cow would lay down and give up the ghost. After the tense wait, with the boy second guessing his shot every minute or so, we eased up to where we had first spotted glowing eyes. We scoured the hillside, only to find minimal blood sign, leading to another quick consultation. We decided to check out the cow’s last known location before determining whether to continue the pursuit or consider leaving her for the night (which we weren’t too keen on given the coming snow). We eased on up the hill towards the last pine tree I had seen the cow walk near, and were relieved to spot her lying dead at its base. It turns out the shot was just a bit forward and pretty high, with no exit, resulting in a hit to the lungs that took a while to bleed out and left very little visible sign.
Unfortunately for us, the recovery of this elk would be a bit more difficult than the last. We quickly set about removing the meat from the carcass using the gutless method. We finished up as snow starting falling a bit more seriously. We bagged up the quarters and hung three of them from the Ponderosa under which the cow had expired, where they would cool out overnight. We strapped a hind quarter to my Exo Mountain Gear K2 2000 pack along with all the extra clothing we wouldn’t need while carrying a load. My dad volunteered to carry the meat bag with the two backstraps and tenderloins, which lightened my load a bit.
The next morning we headed back in with the packs to recover the rest of meat and a few pieces of elk hide to get tanned for future 4-H leathercraft projects.
We put a shoulder on Dad’s pack frame, a hind quarter and shoulder on my Exo, and the hide in the boy’s little Scouting backpack.
With all the fun now over, we packed up the meat and prepared to strike camp. After a quick family picture for posterity’s sake, we hit the road, wrapping up this chapter in our family’s hunting recordbook.
Like last year, I secured an elk tag for my 13-year old daughter and 11-year old son. Their tags would be valid in one of the renowned Gila National Forest’s several game management units. Their hunt was to start on the Friday after Thanksgiving, meaning that our family would once again give thanks for all of life’s wonders in the most wonderful place of all – the great outdoors. And to make it an even better celebration, my parents agreed to join us in elk camp, bringing three generations into the forest.
The wife, kids, and I spent the weekend prior to Thanksgiving getting everything ready and loading the truck and camper for the trip. We finalized the preparations Wednesday morning and departed on time to meet my folks for lunch and last-minute supplies in the last town of any size. Then it was over the mountains and into the forest for the next several days. We arrived at last year’s camp site (a National Forest campground) to find a number of camps already in place. Seeking a bit more solitude, we reversed course and selected another location with a great view.
Dad and I rose early on Thanksgiving to go do a little scouting. By sunrise we had seen a couple groups of elk and located a nice dead alligator juniper to convert to firewood. We returned to camp, gathered up the crew and woodcutting gear, and then headed back out to get a bit of firewood.
While out and about, we caught sight of this young fellow.
From there it was back to camp to start a nice fire, warm our hands, and get ready for the fine Thanksgiving dinner my wife and mom had prepared, mostly in advance to facilitate a smooth dining experience. Soon we were all fat and happy and ready to call it an early night. The kids readied their hunting gear, clothes, and everything else needed for opening morning and hit the sack.
Opening morning dawned clear and cold, and we left camp early to get to where Dad and I had seen a nice group of elk the morning before. There was already a truck nearby (too bad for us), so we enacted Plan B and headed to our backup location. That turned out to be good for us, because not long after we got there I spotted some elk moving through the trees on a nearby ridge. The wide open valley floor was between us and the bottom of the hill on which the elk were traveling. With few options, we took the direct approach right across the valley towards the elk until we were less than 200 yards from herd on the hill. Dad and I got the kids set up on the Primos Trigger Sticks and started trying to find a clear shot through the thick Ponderosa pines. Finally, a nice large cow stepped into a small opening, presenting a perfect broadside shot for my daughter. She wasted no time, and quickly sent a 185 grain bullet on its way from the Ruger Hawkeye in .338 Federal. I watched the bullet strike through the binocular and knew she had made a solid hit. We kept our eyes on the cow while the herd scattered, mostly heading up the ridge or over the hill. Just as the kid was about to put another round down range, the cow tipped over, coming to rest at an awkward angle on the steep slope.
About then, we spotted a lone cow not far from the downed elk. My son got back into position, and when the elk stopped to the sounds of our cow calling, he took his shot. Unfortunately, his case of buck fever resulted in a clean miss, and the cow quickly left the country for a safer haven. Dad and I consulted and decided that the boy and I would try to follow the herd to see if he could get another shot while he and my daughter worked their way up the ridge to secure the dead cow. We worked farther up the canyon and deeper into the forest, but didn’t catch up to the herd, so we returned to find that the other two had easily located the elk. Being the nice guys we are, we fetched their hot drinks from the truck before crossing the valley and hiking up to where they had a nice little fire going to stave off the morning chill while we field dressed the cow.
Though the hill upon which the elk died was fairly steep, it wasn’t terribly high, so we were able to drag/roll her down to the valley bottom. From there, recovery was fairly easy with a slow steady drag through the grass to where the road dipped enough to back the truck up to a dirt bank and slide her in. With the day warming quickly, we opted to return to camp and tend to the elk we had rather than continue hunting for another. Using the hitch-mounted game winch, we hoisted the elk to get her skinned, quartered, and stowed on ice.
Good carnivores that we are, we sliced off a few choice cuts and roasted them over the open fire for a little snack.
We headed back for an afternoon hunt, and while looking for elk, my son spotted three turkeys moving through the trees. Since I had a fall turkey tag in my pocket (never hurts to be prepared!), we immediately shifted our focus from elk to the big birds. Using stealth and speed (aka a raging sprint), we were able to get in front of the three turkeys, and as they wandered by, I put the ol’ Mossberg to good use on the largest of the bunch. He wasn’t the true Thanksgiving turkey I had hoped for when I bought the tag, but he was only a day late!
That was to be the high point of the afternoon, as we spotted no elk before dark. The whole second day was a repeat, with no opportunities at elk. We did see a few up-and-coming mule deer bucks though.
And we converted one of my turkey’s breasts, along with some boring old chicken breasts, into some tasty fajitas.
Day 3 of our hunt broke cold and windy, which during past hunts has worked out well for me. Although elk are usually on higher alert, wind creates opportunities to get closer because one can get away with more movement and more noise than in calmer conditions. And it almost worked! We had two chances at elk, but just couldn’t put all the pieces together to get the boy a good shot on a cow. After a nice hike through some beautiful country, we made our way back to camp to hide from the wind for a couple hours while enjoying lunch.
The weather was getting worse by now, and we were treated to a bit of spitting snow to go along with the wind during our afternoon hunt. We weren’t very hopeful given that we had yet to see an elk in the evening, so I was quite surprised to spot a few head at a pond I had glassed dozens of times in the past to no avail. Darkness was closing in fast, and the wind wasn’t great, but we went for it anyway. We had to cut crosswind a bit in an attempt to keep them from catching our scent, and then the sneak was on. As we neared the pond, the wind shifted again, and I was sure the elk would be able to smell us. Shortly after, I caught sight of them cutting through the trees straight downwind of us, clearly on the way out at a trot. The boy got set up on the Trigger Sticks with his Marlin X7.308 pointed at a narrow clearing between a couple juniper trees. I was staring stupidly at the opening as elk streamed through it when the kid brought me back to reality by hissing through clenched teeth, “call, call, call.” I snapped out of it and brought my trusty Orion elk call to my lips and let out a couple short cow calls. At the sound, a nice cow stepped into the clearing and stopped, presenting a classical broadside shot. The little .308 barked and we were rewarded with the sound of a solid hit.
Darkness fell, the wind continued to howl, and we gave the cow a few minutes to expire before taking up the trail. We proceeded to where the cow stood at the shot to look for sign of the hit. We found none, so we started moving slowly along the trail the elk had taken, switching between watching the ground for blood and looking out ahead for a dead elk. A couple hundred yards later, my dad whispered, “eyes up ahead.” I quickly scanned that direction with my brighter flashlight and caught sight of the cow’s tawny form slipping through the Ponderosas. Fearing that we had made a marginal hit, we opted to wait another 20 minutes, hoping the cow would lay down and give up the ghost. After the tense wait, with the boy second guessing his shot every minute or so, we eased up to where we had first spotted glowing eyes. We scoured the hillside, only to find minimal blood sign, leading to another quick consultation. We decided to check out the cow’s last known location before determining whether to continue the pursuit or consider leaving her for the night (which we weren’t too keen on given the coming snow). We eased on up the hill towards the last pine tree I had seen the cow walk near, and were relieved to spot her lying dead at its base. It turns out the shot was just a bit forward and pretty high, with no exit, resulting in a hit to the lungs that took a while to bleed out and left very little visible sign.
Unfortunately for us, the recovery of this elk would be a bit more difficult than the last. We quickly set about removing the meat from the carcass using the gutless method. We finished up as snow starting falling a bit more seriously. We bagged up the quarters and hung three of them from the Ponderosa under which the cow had expired, where they would cool out overnight. We strapped a hind quarter to my Exo Mountain Gear K2 2000 pack along with all the extra clothing we wouldn’t need while carrying a load. My dad volunteered to carry the meat bag with the two backstraps and tenderloins, which lightened my load a bit.
The next morning we headed back in with the packs to recover the rest of meat and a few pieces of elk hide to get tanned for future 4-H leathercraft projects.
We put a shoulder on Dad’s pack frame, a hind quarter and shoulder on my Exo, and the hide in the boy’s little Scouting backpack.
With all the fun now over, we packed up the meat and prepared to strike camp. After a quick family picture for posterity’s sake, we hit the road, wrapping up this chapter in our family’s hunting recordbook.
