The morning was clear, the air clean as daylight. There was no humidity. In the Rockies, there seldom is. It was a good day for a listening walk with the Old Men.
The Boy was a hunter, but he had come to enjoy hiking for its own merits, and hunting had largely introduced it. He had first hiked for hiking’s sake as a Boy Scout, particularly around Shiloh and in the Smokies, but those walks were more struggle than satisfaction. Hunting Out West added enough sweetening to see the full dose down, and the treatment had proven a success.
Practically any hunt Out West involves considerable hiking. Elk hunting in particular had always held the Boy’s fancy, and it had proven one of the few things in life not overrated. Elk fascinated the Boy as near-mythical creatures: something so large and so loud and so quiet at the same time, a living extension of the hills they call home. Hunting them engages every one of our senses and connects deeply to earth, rock and sky. It means interacting fully and honestly with nature, a spiritual connection elemental in each way.
It also comes complete with all the hiking you can stand built right in.
Any morning elk hunt involves a walk starting in the wee hours, but it is always carefully strategic. You can’t just start earlier because, in the black dark, you’ll walk into the herd you’re hunting and spook it, a blunder that means the same thing Out West as it does anywhere. If getting into launch position requires a few miles in full darkness that is one thing, but entering the prime ground requires being able to see, and by the time you can see they’re already moving.
Elk like to feed by night in valleys that are sunlit by day, then spend their days in the cool shelter of the mountains whose high trees surround watering holes, quiet places to sleep and to be. A morning hunt means starting low and moving with urgency uphill, remaining alongside of elk doing their thing, getting as close to in front of them as the wind will let you be. It’s often referred to as chasing, but the ones you’re after aren’t running away. Being big, long-legged creatures, their normal walking pace is a vigorous one to match with just your two feet.
In September and October, bulls herd cows and menace one another, breeding and fighting as they go. A hunter’s calls mimic a cow that might attract a bull’s attention for one thing, or mimic a bull’s challenge attracting his attention for another. But the elk’s reproductive lives are lived amid their own daily feeding and resting cycles, so taking part in that means trotting briskly along at one side.
At some point each morning they do get where they’re going, but it’s imperative to keep the wind on your side. Elk don’t necessarily recoil from the sight of man, and they make the same racket as people when they’re walking through the woods, but their primary defense is their nose. If the wind gives you away a whole herd will change mountains, making the same noise as a freight train on a dirt road, putting an exclamation point on top of disappointment.
As the morning sun warms the valleys you and they have just left, the warm air begins to rise and will blow steadily uphill much of the day, so keeping the quarry huntable calls for strategic retreat. A hunt that kicks off at 4 with an uphill churn generally has to withdraw some time around 10, getting away before changing winds blow out the whole scene.
Hunting in the afternoon uses much of the same strategy in reverse. As the sun makes its run for the horizon, the valleys cool while the peaks continue to warm. Then the sun-warmed winds turn downhill a couple hours before dark, and the goal is to be positioned to meet the elk along their downward path after the wind is blowing back the way you had come and before it gets too dark to shoot. They’re headed back to the valley they left early that morning, but it will be dark long before they arrive, so timing the wind with the daylight is an equation solved through much hiking.
In the course of several days’ hunting, an engaged hunter will trek quite a ways.
This morning the Boy walked into the foothills of the Rockies, subtracting only the shooting hardware and paperwork from elk hunting’s sheet. Though he wasn’t chasing anything, his pace matched that of an elk hunting morning. Heart rate and excitement do go hand in hand.
The Old Men had long ago passed into the mystery, departing the company one by one, so their agility and wind were no concern. He looked on the land’s glory for them all.
Long lives eventually overtook the Old Men, but calendars and clocks had not robbed them along the way. They accrued their fair share of outdoors enjoyment as time went by, and the Boy interacted with their memory.
He told them about elk hunting and they smiled at his stories, laughing and chiding just the right ways. In the outdoors, endurance is a key part of experience, they reminded him. Making the difficulty part of the joy is the hidden key. Long, hot days on a humid lake, or long, breathless hikes on a frigid hillside might sap some courage, but simple endurance is all a thinking man need bring. Not quitting allows experience’s library to grow, and that growth powers all that comes after. And what comes after is a lifetime, wealthy with experience, fond memories warmed in the heat of nature’s glow.
Kevin Tate is a freelance writer. Email [email protected].
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 24 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 24 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
