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The average hunter kills an elk every 7 years. My son Michael has taken 14 years worth. He killed a nice 7 point last year on opening day (pic below) and took this really nice 5 point this year on opening day. We were walking along together when I first saw an elk walk by about 200 yards away in a fairly grown up logging area. We headed that way and saw this nice bull looking at us about 100 yards away. Michael did not have a rest and ended up taking 2 off hand shots. I don't think he touched the elk that time. The elk wheeled around and ran up the hill. 5 or 6 more shots rang out and a few minutes later 5 or 6 more. This elk came running back by us and Michael got off a fairly close shot before the elk ran into some really thick stuff. We found blood and I started marking the blood trail while Michael followed foot prints. Pretty soon a few shots rang out and after a while a few more. I started doing the math and off the top of my head, I thought Michael might be out of bullets. I had the extra box of shells with me. I left the blood trail and headed in his direction. I found him standing over this nice bull. I guess everybody in the woods had taken a shot but Michael was probably the one who hit him the most and certainly the one who finished him off. Nobody showed up to dispute that, or I might add, to help us pack him out. This elk fell about 150 yards from where Mike killed his last year. We were about 1/4 of a mile from the truck and had a fairly easy time. I was packing 50 pound legs and Michael was packing rib cages and other 100 pound pieces.
Well. I finally killed something in the digital age. I took this nice 6 pointer in the 2009 bowseason about half a mile from where my son, michael took his elk in 2008. Check out his pic below. This elk had already come in 6 times over the course of 2 days and I had shot three times. Bushes, buck fever, and whatever else had conspired against me. Well a blind squirrel finds a nut once in a while and this time at about 15 steps, I didn't miss. I am lucky I was able to get my nephew, his friend and my boy to help pack it out. After doing the quartering job by myself, this 48 year old body was spent.
Here is my 19 year old son with a very nice Roosevelt elk, taken on the opening day of the 2008 season. We had hunted earlier in the day and not seen anything. Despite his plea to go home and sleep, I convinced Michael to hunt one more place. We came upon a man helping his son pack out a raghorn. He pointed in the direction that the herd had went and so we headed that way. After a while I bugled and this one or maybe another answered. We headed that way and after a while were in the middle of a bunch of elk. Michael picked this one running through the timber and dropped it with one shot. It is bigger than my first elk and I am still about as proud and happy as a dad can be. You might not be able to tell from the pics but this elk has a real stocky 6 point frame with an extra eye guard on one side and a little kicker point on the other, making this a 7x7.
This is my 14 year old son Michael and what might be the nicest three point I have ever seen. Michael took this beautiful blacktail on the second weekend of the 2003 deer season. It was about a 50 yard off hand shot with his savage 30.06 and the deer fell in its tracks. I was at least 30 years old before I killed a buck even close to this one. I was about as proud as a dad can be.
Here is my 15 year old son, a year older than the picture above, with a 4 by 5 black tail deer that he killed a week into the 2004 season. This is bigger than any deer I have ever taken. Again, I am proud of him.
Here is my 17 year old son, 2 years older than the picture above, with a monster 3 point black tail deer that he harvested second to last day of the 2006 season. Again, this is bigger than any deer I have taken. I was the one that spotted this huge deer and let Michael take the shot. He was wondering why I did that and I told him that was what dads did. He would understand one day. I am sure you dads out there understand.
Here is a spike elk that my nephew, Stephen Price, killed on opening day of elk season, 2002. He took it with one shot from his 300 weatherby. Not a bad days work for a 17 year old. I might add that I was his guide, even though he has been trying to take all the credit.
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