Grandpa's Latest (Mis?)Adventure

Well, elk hunting season is almost over, but yesterday was free so I decided to give it a go. I packed up the truck and headed for a high mountain park, one that we had hiked to several years ago. It has a stream-fed meadow, (called a Park), lots of grass, and just the kind of place where elk would like to hang out. My plan was to hunt for the rest of the day, pitch a tent and stay for the night, and hunt back to the truck today. The ideal outcome would include bringing back an elk to put in the freezer.
I packed a tent, bedroll, sleeping bag, some extra long johns, some jerky, bags and sheets for wrapping meat, and of course my rifle. That is more than I can carry, so I packed it on a sled. That would make it easier to pack out the elk as well.



When I got to the trailhead, it was snowing and blowing, but the snow was only 6-8" deep, so I started out. The further into the forrest and the higher in elevation I got, the worse it became. Pretty soon it was blowing and snowing till who laid the chunk, but I wasn't giving up now.

Eventually the snow ended, but as I got higher and higher, the snow got deeper and deeper. Draging the sled became a real effort. My goal was to reach the park where the elk may be bedded down. (Hey, who took that picture?)

By the time I reached the west end of the park, the snow was belly deep on a horse, (knee deep on me), and it was starting to get dark. I had seen no elk tracks or sign of any kind that elk were in the area. The truth is, the snow was so deep no self respecting elk would paw his way down in that much snow to get a mouthful of grass. Any elk with a brain would be down in Estes Park munching grass from someone's lawn!

By now reality was sinking in. There were no elk in the area, it was getting dark and cold, and I really did not want to spend the night if there were no chances of getting an elk to bring home. After thinking about it for a while, I turned around and started back to the truck. Evening was setting on, I had walked and drug the sled uphill for four hours, and now I had to find my way back to the truck in the dark. It was a good thing that the return was more downhill than uphill.

It was late when I got home, but it sure felt good to crawl into my soft, warm bed. Hunters have to be optimists to work that hard for nothing but their health. There's always next year!