Cow Elk – Sneaking Away from the Crowd

Successful end to the cow elk hunt on a bluebird Nevada day. Buck Boyce takes a moment to enjoy the moment.

Cow Tag

Our family values wild game meat as our core protein source. Cow elk represent 100 to 150 pounds of organic meat on the table in one shot. For that reason, we are somewhat aggressive in our tag applications. When it comes to trophy hunting, we are picky and selective. When it comes to cow elk, we put in for every tag we think we can fill. In this case, we might have gone a bridge too far!

I quickly scanned the tag results. We had some smoking good tags. Dad’s cow elk tag wasn’t one of them! He had drawn the country that he and his best friend Lee loved the most. Losing Lee last year, this tag would be special, filled with memories of hunts together; however, everyone else and his dog would be flopping around in this area. Ugh.

Previous Success

We’ve become fairly adept at out-working and out-hunting other cow hunters. I’m willing to pack them out in pieces on my back. Right there, that eliminates way more than half of the competition. We thought maybe we could transfer our success in a nearby area (four for four in the past two seasons, with a total of three days hunted) to Dad’s existing tag area. Ultimately, we weren’t wrong, but it wasn’t for the reasons I’d expected.

I did my research and figured we’d go right to the most beautiful country and dig in deeper than everyone else. It would be a rut hunt…I know, I know…who gives cow rut hunts? Nevada does, so we take advantage. Anyway, I figured we’d just get into the thickest aspen groves where the elk would be holed up. I didn’t count on a half-foot of September snow.

Day One

We woke to a fresh snow on the ground at home. When we arrived in our hunting area that morning, snow depths ranged from three inches to half a foot. We found elk alright, and we were in the field ahead of the competition; however, they soon wiped the sleep out of their eyes, and an army of hunters joined us. Those poor elk. Every time they would show themselves, the nearest hunters would quickly race to them. Discouraging.

We made a late-afternoon hunt to get on some elk we’d bedded. When we got there, we found that hunters had pressed them out of their beds, ending our afternoon. On our way back out, we heard nearby shots. Close shots. Peeking over the rim to the canyon below, I saw that an elk was down. As I watched the hunter watch his or her elk through the riflescope, I put my own spotting scope on the situation. Quickly, I found a cow that appeared to be gut shot, in addition to the one that was down.

I yelled to the hunters that they had two elk shot. They never could locate me and seemed to ignore me after looking around a bit. I considered walking the half mile down to them, but I really didn’t want to leave my dad because of the treacherous muddy conditions. As we hiked out, I heard another shot and saw the gut-shot cow go down. Those hunters had two cows down. I sure hoped they had two tags, but I made my choice to stick with my dad and not play game warden.

Day Two

Frustrated with the circus of day one, we opted to hunt an area where my friend Ken had taken a bull a few years earlier. He and his dad Lee had hunted with Tammy and I that day, the last day I got to hunt with Lee before his passing. It was a special day and a special return to that area. I was stoked to show my dad the area.

Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the ridge gate and found it posted “No Trespassing, Violators Will Be Prosecuted to the Full Extent of the Law”. Now I knew for a fact that gate was on public land; however, I wasn’t willing to trespass without having a rock-solid source, so we backed out of there. I was pissed. I knew that someone, an outfitter, rancher, or sportsman had illegally posted a public gate. Upon returning home, I verified there wasn’t any private land within a half mile of that gate.

To try to salvage the morning, we took a drive. The fog kept us away from our target area, but I recalled my buddy Kelly telling me that the sagebrush in the area held elk. I stopped on the county road to spot the hills and Tammy quickly heard a bull bugle. We trotted a half mile out into the sagebrush to get a better vantage point and Tammy started seeing elk. The three of us patterned those elk as they left their nighttime food and water spot and headed to the hills. Later in the morning, we found them sleeping up in the hills. We hatched a plan for day three.

Day Three

The best way to get your tag filled is to outthink other hunters. We’d invested two days in sorting things out and we finally had located elk without hunters. These elk were within a mile of a county road and at least two camp trailers. How they remained unnoticed was beyond me, but it seemed the case. I spent an hour or so on GoogleEarth that evening and developed a plan. We arrived at our road’s end about 40 minutes late, just before sunrise. Dad’s four-ply tires weren’t up to my driving style, and the rim had also oxidized to the hub, costing a ton of time to beat the rim off the hub. Another story, and one filled with cuss words….

Nothing to do but finish the game. We hiked in to the trail system that seemed the main drag for our sagebrush elk. Although late, the elk were even later the prior morning, so we thought we were ok. We settled into the mud and brush and waited…and waited…and waited. After about an hour, the distant bugling became louder and a couple of satellite bulls appeared about ¾ of a mile away. Perfect. We eyeballed them for another 30 or 40 minutes before we started to see cows. Seemed like our plan was working.

The elk worked closer to us, and we lost sight of them. The bugling kept coming closer and closer, and we began to worry they may be going up the wash behind us. After some debate, I slid through the brush to the rise behind us. Sure enough, the herd of cows were about 400 yards below me in the other wash. I was able to get the attention of my wife and dad and they came to join me. It seemed unlikely we could gain a sitting shooting position, so I pulled my spotting scope and set it in some bunch grass. With my tripod freed up, I adjusted it to a height about right for Dad.

A Small Sin

Now there is a bit more to the story. My dad had run out of his favorite ammunition for his 270. We knew his rifle was sighted in perfectly for that ammo, but neither he or I had sighted in for the new loads. I knew this was a potentially large problem, and I silently cussed myself as we watched those elk at 400 yards.

Heed my advice: NEVER hunt with a rifle without sighting it in after – 1) using a new load, 2) storing for a year, 3) travel of any significance, and 4) disassembly or gunsmithing. Seems obvious, I know, but you’d better learn from my stupidity if you haven’t already.

The Shot

As Dad was getting set up to intercept those elk for a shot, I tried a few tentative cow calls. This elicited a response from only 150 yards away! About 90 degrees to our right from the main herd stood a few cows and a small bull. I tapped dad on the shoulder, but I think he’d already noticed the closer elk. I called a lone separated cow out for him and he responded with a single shot. The cow seemed to respond to the shot, and didn’t seem too healthy.

Cow elk on board. Packed for the trip out.

I kept my eye on that cow and Dad did too. With elk, I’ve learned to keep shooting. I asked Dad if he had a shot to hit her again and she dropped at the second report of the rifle. As we came upon the stone-dead cow a few minutes later, we could see that his first shot had done its job. The insurance shot knocked her down, but the first shot was fully fatal. Luckily, the bullets hit just where he’d aimed. Whew! Both the 270 and Dad were on their game. A short pack back to the truck and we were home before noon.

As an aside, Tammy watched the herd of cows, herd bull, and satellite bulls after Dad put his cow down. She later explained that the poor herd bull was running circles trying to keep those satellites off his cows. She said his tongue was hanging and he was grunting furiously. The elk were so twitterpated, they really didn’t move off fast. By the sound of her recounting, I don’t think that herd bull had the right idea. Seemed like for him, love was pain. Hunting cows during the rut is a strange thing, but it definitely helps you to learn.

Parting Shot

This wasn’t an easy hunt. The hunters all knew where the elk should be; however, with so many hunters concentrated in small areas, hunting was tough. Thankfully, my old pal’s advice stuck with me and we were able to find some elk where others weren’t looking. I doubt I would have come up with that idea on my own, so if you are reading this Kelly, thank you!

Also, thanks to the jerk that posted a public gate. Not really. I’m sure that this posting resulted in fewer cow elk harvested in that area in 2017. This kind of behavior should not be tolerated. It is an illegal action and should be punished. It helped us by keeping people away from the area, but that isn’t a fair shake for others.