Stories...

Dancing With Bulls

By, Dennis Jacob

Do you want to dance or go get a bull? That was the question on the second day of the Arizona November bull hunt. My daughter Erin, who was sixteen years old, had drawn this hunt and was faced with a decision. We were going home that morning so she could attend her Girls Dance Formal, which you know is an all day affair plus dinner and a dance that night.

The story begins after Erin's luck in drawing a 1999 tag. She tells me she has a date for the dance and she will come and hunt Friday. But, this is only if I take her home Saturday morning so she can go to the dance and then bring her back up the mountain Sunday so she could finish up the hunt. Agreed, I have no other choice. So, the Wednesday before the hunt I set up camp and started glassing. On Wednesday evening I glassed up three bulls in a brush choked basin next to a spring. One was a 6x6 approximately 360 inches. Thursday morning my son Brent, a friend Bryan May and I went to another part of the unit and glassed six bulls in a canyon in which one was in the 330 range. After discussing how to hunt this bull we decided that Bryan and his friend Brint would hike down this ridge in the dark and wait for these bulls to come to this spring, while Erin and I would go after the 360 bull. As Clay Gomez, my partner in DC Outfitters (1-520-428- 7979), was not able to be on this hunt I knew anything we found would be packed out on our backs. So Friday morning as the orange glow grew brighter my son Brent, Erin and myself sat on a ridge approximately 1/2 mile away glassing every bush with our 15x60's. Only one cow worked her way down into an adjacent canyon and as morning proceeded to noon we went back to camp feeling the bull would be located in the evening. In the meantime, Brint and Bryan had hiked down the ridge to this point that I had pointed out to them and Bryan said, "Well, Dennis said if we get to this point the bulls should be in front of us." There they were, all six bulls between 300 and 400 yards away. They found the larger bull and Brint connected on his first Arizona elk. Now the fun began, as it is a 3,000-foot vertical climb up the mountain to the trail and another two miles to the truck. That afternoon Brent, Erin and I went to another ridge, next to where we saw the bull, thinking that maybe he was on the same hillside but no bull. As we hiked out in the dark Erin reminded me that I promised to take her home for the dance.

When we arrived in camp, Bryan and Brint were there and they told us the course of events that led to the bulls. Now the work on boning and packing would be for them tomorrow. This was one time that I was grateful to be going home early in the morning. Brent volunteered to help Brint with his elk while Bryan continued to hunt. So early Saturday morning Erin and I started down the mountain. I told her that we would go early so I could glass some places. That leads to the beginning of the first canyon I glassed. I spotted an old 6x7 with heavy short beams. I turned to her and said, "Do you want to dance or kill a bull?" Her reply was, "the boy can wait, let’s go!" So we started off down the mountain as the bull was feeding about 3/4 of a mile away down in a canyon. When we got to a point above the bull we stopped to make sure he was still there. Gone! "No wait, look over there," Erin said. As I looked on the next ridge there was the heavy horned bull that was huge. Now do we go after him, or go down a little farther to see the first bull? "Lets check down here," I said as we were sneaking over the ridge. I looked straight across and lo’ and behold there was the old 6x7, 250 yards away feeding. I set my pack down and Erin slipped in behind it to were it was used as a rest for her 338 mag. She turned to me and said, "Can I shoot off my knees, I am more comfortable." Meanwhile the bull just fed away not even aware of us. It's funny, I have sat next to clients and watched the barrel dance as they prepare to shoot, not this time, and Erin was solid as a rock. I told her to take her time and shoot when she was ready. She soon did and the bull stumbled from the hit then turned down into the jungle of brush. As he stopped she shot again and he disappeared. Both shots were good and everything was still except us as she put the rifle down. We jumped up and down, hugged and cried. Hunting is exciting and having been with clients and friends the excitement is nothing in comparison as your little sixteen-year-old daughter harvesting her first elk. She went to the dance later that night and I got the bull ready to pack with the help of a good friend, Delbert Gardner. The next morning Erin, her brother Brent, and Brint Dietrich all put on back packs at 7: 00 A.M. and by noon had boned and packed the bull up to the road and back to camp. Erin carried the head, neck, and back strips, which was about 70 pounds.

Now for the rest of the story, Erin is running for Miss Arizona in July 2001 and her talent, of course, is dancing. I am thankful to be a part of my children’s lives and the joy we have when we do things together. I hope that we can continue to dance with the bulls of Arizona.