And now... The rest of the Story

Well Ken and I worked our tails off all day Wednesday first to get his bull to the top of the mountain and then to get the front shoulders one hind quarter and the head down the mountain to the truck. It was getting dark and we didn't feel like hiking back up the mountain so we decided to drive to Helena and get a good nights sleep on a soft warm bed, fix his truck tire, and come back up Thursday morning to pack out the last hind quarter and a sack with about 50 lb of meat. Well we weren't able to get out of Helena until about 12:30 or so, and Ken decided he was coming back to Helena once he got his elk out, so I called around and then Dad said he would come up and Thursday night and hunt with me on Friday and Saturday. Kathy decided that since Ken was comming back that evening, and she was curious about Bull Creek (never having been to our "little slice of heaven" before) to come with Ken and I up the mountain. I was really excited for Ken but feeling a twinge of desperation for myself. I left Ken and Kathy at camp and hustled up to Uncle Daves log to see if by chance anything was out in the basin. Well I had only sat at uncle dave's log for a minute or two when I noticed a little tan spot WAY WAY down in the bottom of the basin. So I put the scope on it and sure enough it was an elk! Then sure enough it was a bull elk! I couldn't tell how big the antlers were but I knew that if there was enough there that I could see them flashing from almost a mile away that he was legal to shoot. So I SPRINTED down the trail to ask Ken if he minded if I bailed on packing out his bull and went after another bull I had spotted. Ken of course was awesome and said something to the effect of "Russ I can't believe you even came to ask my permission, Hunting is what we came here to do, go get him!" So I RAN up the mountain to the top, made sure I could still see the bull and then RAN like the last of the mohicans guy down the ridge on the left side of the basin as you look down. I made it to the edge of the trees, right about above where the elk was and dropped down the face of the mountain through the spotty trees and open areas. I slowed way down once I was dropping in on him off the ridge to keep from sending a rock rolling down the hill and scare him. The wind was blowing down the basin so my wind was going at about a 90 degree angle away from him. I got about half way down between the ridge and the bottom to a rotten stump where I could lay down on my belly, and not be totally upside down, and where I could see the bull clearly through an opening in the trees. I judged the distance to be about 200 yards, but then all of the sudden I just knew that I needed to aim about 4 inches below the top of his back. I shot once and couldn't tell if I had hit him, but he was still just standing there so I quickly put in another shell and shot again. This time I could tell that I had hit him, but he still was on his feet and I didn't want to take any chances with a wounded elk getting away so I shot a third time, and with that shot he went down. I was way excited! I said a little prayer of thanks and went down to him. He was a pretty good bull!!! Ken ran down the mountain and we hugged and took some pictures. Then Ken had to get back up to Kathy, and I was left to field dress the elk. (you forget how big they are until you have one down) I got him all cleaned out, and just before I was about to leave I heard a rustling in the bushes a little ways away from where I was. Boy did that put the fear in me! I was just sure that I was going to be toe to toe with a grizzly bear in the dark. I ran up to the elk and grabbed my flashlight and the rifle. I didn't see that pair of beady yellow eyes like I thought I would, but just the same I high-tailed it back up the mountain to camp. Dad came up and spent the night and then Friday morning we packed out camp and then went down to the switchback and went in to my elk from below. Dad and I worked on getting the elk ready to pack out, and we were pretty tired from all the exertion. Then the cavalry came. Jared and Micah Christensen came out of the brush about 200 yards down the hill and helped us pack the bull out. We were stoked! I was sooooo grateful to them for the help. After we got the elk all packed out we all went down to the "Shake 'N Burger" down in Lincoln, and I treated everyone to a hamburger and a milkshake. In the end it was perhaps the best week of hunting of my life. I have a great family and now I have a great elk!