Photo by Traber Cass

After several years of hunting hard, here we were at 10 a.m. on opening morning with an elk coming toward Traber’s calls. With an opening in the trees 30 yards from me, I could only lean against an aspen tree and get ready. As she stepped into the opening, I had my bow drawn and gave a soft mew. She stopped and the arrow was on its way in an instant. Watching the red and white fletch disappear in her side washed away years of frustration and disappointment. I had just taken my first elk with a bow!
 
But delight quickly turned to horror. I watched her run about 60 yards, then stop and stand there, fully alert. The arrow hit too far back. We watched in agony as she stood in the open area for 45 minutes then wandered off over a rise. After a couple hours, we took up her trail. I happened to look under a tangle of pines and saw her laying there. I noticed an alert ear turned towards me - she was very much alive!
 
I knew I needed to put another arrow in her. By standing on my tiptoes on a log, I was able to see a clear tunnel through the brush to her chest. At the arrow’s impact, she blew out of the cover like she was shot from a cannon.
 
We gave her another half hour before we started to trail her again, using a grid pattern to search for her. I finally found her in chest-tall ferns, and the frustration, disappointment - and horror - truly melted away. I gave a loud bugle to get Traber’s attention and the excited bugle he sent back said he already knew what I had found.

My brother and I had a fantastic hunt in Colorado. The elk in the photo is a 6x6 (barely) that I took on the morning of our last hunt day.  While hunting, I saw four bears, numerous mule deer (two fighting within 30 yards of me), and even a few grouse.

I had been within 50 yards of a nice bull and his cows earlier on the morning of the last day of our hunt but couldn't get a clean shot through all the oak brush. I later took the bull pictured from 300 yards with one clean shot from my 7mm Remington Magnum. 

We hope to return for another hunt(s) until my brother can get a bull.  Until then, I'll be reading Colorado Outdoors.

Dear DOW,
I want to tell you folks how pleased I am with my deer hunt. I hunted during the second season and I saw more big bucks than I have seen in years. I've lived in Colorado since the early 1960s. You folks have done yourselves proud with deer management. Reminds me of the old days when my dad and I hunted together.

I'm having the deer I harvested mounted. The game warden in the area — I only know him by his first name, Paul — checked my tag and was a real pleasure to talk to. You should be proud to have him as a wildlife officer.

Again, thanks.
Sincerely,
Rod Fenske

I actually hunted this particular buck (and his buddy) for the first 20 days of the season and finally arrowed him (one arrow) on the morning of that 20th day. He gross scored 206 Pope & Young as an inline 5x5, and was hanging with a 200" typical 4x4. Either would have done nicely!

I live and hunted my deer in Unit 75 and this was within 5 miles of Durango. He would look much larger than this photo makes him look, if I wasn't a 300-pound guy!

The only time I’ve elk hunted with a rifle I killed a nice bull about 30 minutes after sunrise on opening morning. Concluding that rifle hunting was not very challenging, I decided on a primitive weapon. I drew a muzzle-loader tag and picked a favorite site in the south San Juan Wilderness.

On the fourth day, I began to see fresh tracks. I used a squeeze cow call followed with a small, short bugle. There was an immediate answer. He came into view at about 50 yards, looking for his challenger. I cocked my old Thompson Center’s hammer but the first of the two clicks made the bull stop. I froze, knowing the second click could ruin the day. The solution – carefully cock the hammer with my thumb while holding the trigger down to avoid the click. At 11,000 feet, cold, winded and excited, this wasn’t a good idea. BOOM!! Mud and sticks went flying from the ground four feet in front of me.

I reloaded and stayed still. I hit the squeeze call again. The bull gave a horrific roaring bugle and began working a tree over. I matched him with tree raking and my smallest bugle. This time he got really angry. He came charging around a few fallen trees. A few steps put him broadside at 35 yards. This time, the old .50 caliber was already cocked. The 5x5 took about 10 steps and collapsed.

I know that second chances with a primitive weapon are rare. Sometimes we just get lucky.

Randy and his son Christian (above), drive from Pennsylvania to hunt in Colorado. 

I have been very fortunate, I have been able to hunt Colorado for the past 5 years (2010 will be our sixth)  with family and friends. My wife and I drive out from Pennsylvania carrying all the gear and the rest of our party flies into Denver. We hunt outside of Leadville.

A few years ago I went to a hunting seminar and was advised to hunt the same area for at least 5 years, learn the area and the habits of the game animals. That advice has been proven correct time and time again.

My oldest son Christian and I hunted hard for 5 days straight and on the morning of the sixth day I leaned over and whispered to my son that a BIG bull was coming. It was a dream come true to be in the majestic Colorado Rockies with my son and to harvest this fine mature bull. 

I am a Hunter Education instructor here in Pennsylvania and, to me, spending time with your son or daughter or mentoring a child to the joys of the great outdoors is a gift I cherish. 

Thanks for the great opportunities that Colorado has to offer. 

- Randy