2015 Oregon Archery Elk Hunt

The 2015 archery elk season in Oregon was full of highs and lows. That is a phrase often over used when describing any outing that involves multi-state travel and a fair chase hunt. But in this case, it described our journey much too perfectly.

The journey starts in Southern California. My dad had his 2007 Ford F150 and Toy Hauler ultralight trailer packed and ready to go. We first attended my youngest sons first birthday, then shortly after, my dad, two uncles and myself jumped in the truck and headed out. Full of excitement in regards to the upcoming hunt and anxious to get up there. We had a long day and a half of driving ahead of us. We left L.A. around 6pm and drove through the night and all through the next day. We ended up in camp at around 4pm on Sunday. Really good time considering we were towing a trailer.

By the time we got the trailer set up and our legs stretched out, we got the call. We had one bull down. So we gathered up all of the meat packs and flashlights. Headed out into the dark to help recover what turned out to be a nice 5x6 bull. There is nothing like having blood on your pack before you even get out to hunt. We considered this to be a great sign. And found ourselves eager to get to bed. Morning could not come soon enough.

We woke up at 3:30am to get dressed and packed for the hunt. The goal was to be in the truck by 4:30 and in our stands well before sunrise. We didn't get to bed until 11:30 or 12am the night before. Packing out a bull and then making dinner for the entire camp took some time. So the 3:30am alarm clock could have proved difficult. But getting a chance to pack out the bull the night before afforded us that little shot of adrenaline that we needed to make it a easy wake up call.

So you can see the camp slowly come to life. A flashlight shines in the distance, a coffee pot comes to a boil. You can see head lamps bobbing like fire flies. Every hunter decked out in full camo with bow in hand. It is hard for me to express the feeling you get on the first morning of a hunt. At least for me, I have a million things going on in my head. Anticipation of getting out into the field. Anxiety over weather or not I have everything I need in my pack or way too much. Constantly refereeing internal arguments over what stays and what goes in regards to my pack. How much water and food to bring. Which camera's will work best for where I am hunting that day. And then you get to your stand. Silence. Everything is now about each moment. Your senses are on high alert. You are aware of every movement within a 100 yards or so. It is that calmness, while perched on a mountain side, surrounded by nature, and all of the anxiety, work and practice all rolled up into one big ball is how I would describe the first morning of any big game hunt.

The hunt moved forward. The second day of hunting brought more meat. Two more elk were downed that morning. Bringing our total in camp to three. I didn't get a chance to see any elk that second day, but was ecstatic to be out in the woods. The week carried on. The elk became fewer and further between than the first day. But our camp saw elk every day. There was the spike I saw while climbing up into my tree stand. While I was in the tree stand looking down at the elk, my bow and backpack were tied up and ready to be retrieved at the base of tree. Seems that scenes like this can frustrate a hunter and ruin a hunt. But I tried to take it in stride. Enjoying the fact that I was so close to such a large ungulate. I tipped my cap to him, and let him know that he won this round, but if he was planning on coming back tomorrow, it would be a different story. Then there was the big 6x6 I saw trailing a cow elk and calf. I had the bull at 70 yards, but was hesitant on taking the shot because I only had about a 24" window between the trees. I saw the cow elk walk out into the open and ranged her at 48 yards. So I passed on the 70 yard shot in hopes that the bull followed the lead of the cow as he had done to this point. But he didn't. The bull hugged the trees, sending the cow and calf out in front of him. Almost like he knew what was going on. Such a great experience.

I believe it was the fourth or fifth night that one of my uncles was sitting in his stand with elk behind him. It was just before sunset and the elk could not be seen as they were in thick brush behind the stand 50 yards or so. My uncle waited patiently for the small group of elk to feed his way. When suddenly he heard one of the elk let out with a screeching bark! And all of the elk took off full speed. Following into the picture was a full size mountain lion we had on trail camera a few weeks prior. This tom was somewhere around 150 pounds and heading straight for my uncles stand! (Keep in mind that at the same time of the archery elk hunt, you can purchase mountain lion, bear and deer tags. Which we all had just in case.) The tom came to a hault just 10 feet from my uncle, who was at full draw. My uncle said that he was so close he could see the length and color of his eye brows. My uncle let one fly! Aiming right between the eyes as only the tom's head was visible. The broad head just comes in contact with some bark on the downed tree in front of him and the arrow launches into the forest. The stunned tom takes off! Stops at 50 feet as if to only take in what had just happened and then bounds off into the forest. That was one exciting night.

On the last morning of our hunt one of the other hunters in our party downed a monster mule deer buck! From a 40 minute stand off in a tree stand at below freezing temperatures, this mule deer was downed at 60 yards in one of the smallest of windows. It was one impressive shot. That last morning the whole camp came in to help pack out the deer. This made for one of the most memorable moments of the trip. It was one victorious walk out that morning. Not one I am soon to forget.

Elk hunting, in my case, is a bond between two families. All started by an elementary school friendship between my grandfather and theirs. But more than that, it is the newest in several generations of memories that will be created and recounted around campfires for a long time to come. It is not the victory walk of packing out meat or the time that is spent in the stand that will define the success of the trip. The fact that our families still engage in these activities. No matter the weather, no matter the distance, no matter the struggle. That is what makes the trip a success.

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Here is to you and your next successful hunt.

Tim