Stories...

The End of a Perfect Day

By, Carl T. Horner

November 15, 2002...
First day of bull elk in Arizona-Section 27

Got up at 3:30 AM (could not sleep), got dressed and went to the other bunkhouse and had coffee and one of Mona's delicious cinnamon buns. Left the ranch at about 5 AM on the back of a black mule named Jill wit the gun in the scabbard and flash light on my hat.

Clay Gomez, Clay’s father, Bobby Gomez and Kenny Calloway, who also had a bull elk tag accompanied me in the pitch black night. Up the mountain we went, switch back after switch back, then across the flat and down the other side, which had more switchbacks. After about 1 1/2 hours it started to get light enough to turn off the flashlight. Clay said we went over three mountain ridges, crossing at the saddles. Three different times we stopped and glassed the opposite mountain sides. On the fourth stop Clay glassed up two bulls on the opposite mountain side about 3/4 miles away. They were moving down a draw between two ridges feeding as they moved…too far to shoot. Clay said they usually feed until 8 or 9 o’clock and then they bed down.

The bulls stood out on the mountainside like giant snowballs. We watched them for about 1/2 hour or so…one was bigger than the other. Clay was using 16 power binoculars and said that one bull had a high 5X5 rack. Around 7:30 the big bull lay down and disappeared from view.

Clay decided we should stalk the elk out. Down the mountain we went…Clay, Kenny and I. Clay stated that there was no need to hurry, that the bulls aren’t going anywhere once they bed down. Bob stayed back with the mules and all the equipment-food, drink spurs, binos and chaps which we wore to keep the brush from tearing up our pants and legs. The brush shredded a pair of the gloves I was wearing.

Going down the steep mountain was rough as we got into a wash that was all rocks, brush and dead trees. We finally reached the bottom and started up the other side. This was also very steep, rock and full of brush. We would travel 30 to 40 yards and then rest. Clay was very considerate of me. We finally reached a plateau where Clay felt was slightly higher than where the bull was bedded. We then started to move to our right toward the draw where the bull was located. Tension was building…we didn’t know which was the bull would run. To increase our odds, Clay sent Kenny down on an angle to get below the bull to prevent him from going down the brush-filled draw. Clay and I moved closer to the draw, we stopped and Clay took out his range finder and told me it was 110 yards to the opposite side of the mountain. Then he told me to make myself comfortable and prepare to shoot off of one knee.

Clay started to move in to where he thought the bull was bedded down. Nothing moved except Clay and Kenny…taking two or three steps at a time and stopping to figure out which way the bull would run. I am sitting there with Clay’s Browning A Bolt 300 magnum rifle…not my gun, but that’s another story…posed and ready for whatever happens. Suddenly I heard Clay holler, “There he goes.” I see this big beige colored bull break out of the draw, exactly where Clay said he wanted him to go. I shouldered the rifle while at the same time pushing off the safety, put the cross hairs of the Leupold scope on the bull the best I could, and let one fly. I heard a thump and down went this huge animal. Suddenly he started to get up and move around. I worked the bolt action and yelled to Clay, “should I shoot again?” Clay replied to let him have it and so I did and again the third time. I was getting excited to say the least. As I shot the fourth shell I heard another thump and down he went to stay. I could not believe what had just happened. For years I dreamt of killing a bull elk and the dream suddenly materialized. Clay couldn’t have planned that stalk and the kill of that bull any better. My deepest gratitude to Clay Gomez and Kenny Calloway for making my dream come true.

The bull was a 6X5 and would score somewhere around 300 points… to me it was a 500 point bull. Now the work begins—gutting and quartering the elk on this steep hillside. Clay instructed Kenny to retrieve the mules and supplies. Kenny ran like a jackrabbit, slipping and sliding down the steep and rocky side of the mountain that was covered with brush. Meanwhile, Bob was over on the opposite side of the mountain watching this stalk play out and shivering the whole time from the cold wind that was blowing. Clay started to gut the animal after he took some snap shots. With a number of hefty strokes with his $200 knife, the innards rolled down the hill like a giant ball. Clay and I started skinning out the hindquarters while waiting for Kenny and Bob to return with the mules, which carried the saws, needed to cut the bone. We couldn’t understand what was taking them so long—maybe a Captain Morgan cocktail. Finally they returned and after a sandwich and some fruit punch, the dressing out continued. Clay lost his knife. The hind and front quarters, plus the back straps were hung from a juniper tree to be picked up the next day. We saddled up and headed for the ranch.

When I got back to the corral and got off Jill it felt like my hips were stretched a yard apart. What a day! Again, my thanks to Clay, Kenny and bob for making it all happen.

After limping over to our quarters, I showered and shaved. Feeling a little better I returned and had a Captain Morgan cocktail with the gang and I was looking forward to a wonderful supper prepared by Mona. It was a delicious meal after which I gingerly returned to my quarters and went to bed.

By the way, bobby found clay’s $200 knife after some discussion about its value.

The end of a perfect day!