Late Friday night, early in September. I finish work and pound out the last of my elevation to arrive at my 1st night bed. Its dark now, bugles and cow sounds are erupting all around me as I refuel on a mountain house and water. I am home in the wilderness.

Ready for the challenge of arrowing a mature bull. Early in my elk hunting career I could find elk, but would always get beat in the end. With years of experience, and a burning desire to kill big mature bulls, I have come up with these new school techniques to help punch my tag year after year. Read on to see how these tactics paid huge dividends in my 2009 elk season.

My first objective is location. I use high vantage points to glass and listen for bulls. I move allot during elk season. If I don’t see elk during prime time, I move. I work back ridgelines to different glassing positions and basins. I don’t bugle because I don’t want to put the herd on high alert. I have seen mature bulls take their cows and clear out of the area after hearing just a of couple calls. Now I know, there are hundreds of videos and experiences to prove me wrong. I have called multiple bulls in myself. I have found the majority are smaller satellite bulls. The big guys come in too, but usually on extreme high alert. They come in facing, and as spooky as a bucking horse in the chute. I am not saying ignore calling altogether, just wait for the right time. Realize that bulls bugle to the harem whether you call or not. Listen for and use their bugles to get there position, rather than notifying the bulls where you are. Don’t get caught up in trading bugles with bulls. Usually they are answering calls, and moving their harem somewhere else. Elk behaving naturally are caught up in the rut, this is an archers best chance. You get to choose when and where the hunt will take place.

How many times have we all seen our scent ruin a perfect scenario? Sneaking in or calling and suddenly the mountain explodes with the sound of thundering hooves. This will be the number one challenge. Use dominant wind directions, and thermals to your advantage. I have found hunting on north slope basins in south wind creates near impossible swirling winds. South slope in south winds are very consistent. Use a powder wind checker at all hours of every day to monitor winds, and map out direction. Mountain draws, and ridges are all different in the way they draw and deflect wind and thermals. Knowing the wind and acting on it are two different things. Be disciplined enough to pull off the bull of your dreams if the wind is not right.

I use two modified techniques for bulls, seductive calling and spot and stalk. When calling, I keep my calls away until I am ready to risk “all in.” You get one chance at bulls, a spooked bull will put miles and mountains between you in short order. Watch the herd and wait for your opportunity. Look for the herd to head for a saddle, or bedding timber where you can cut them off. I have found when calling it is not so much what you sound like, it is where you call from. If you are where the bull is heading anyways, it does not take much effort to come check you out. I like to get as close as I dare in front of the bull and then use a few seductive cow calls.

Spot and stalking bulls during the rut is my favorite technique. A wind in my face, I love my chances moving in. I almost always stalk bulls morning and night when they are out feeding. I have also had good luck when elk are transitioning from feeding to bedding. Don’t chase elk into their beds unless you can see them, and the bull is in a vulnerable spot. I had tons of wasted oppurtunitys barging in on elk that I put to bed in some timber. More times than not, I spooked the herd leaving myself no play in the evening. I like to get into striking distance any where from 200 to 800 yards and “coyote” the herd. I will hold up when I can see the elk. Once the scenario looks right, I slip on my wool socks and move in. I like to carry my boots with me on the stalk just in case I have to follow a moving herd. I move quickly at first using the contour of the land. Once I can see elk I let the body language of the elk determine when to freeze in place, and when to creep in. If you catch a bull tearing up a tree, get aggressive. He can’t see well, and he can’t hear well which will equal a high percentage stalk. Stalking bugling rut crazed bulls will turn your legs to rubber, remember keep your focus and deliver a perfect arrow.

My 2009 elk season ended kneeling behind a great general archery season wilderness bull. I caught this great 6 point tending his cows late one morning after making it to a rock outcropping. I thought I was going to be a spectator till evening. Then the herd started crossing into another basin. The bull was bringing up the back, bugling the whole way. Suddenly the bull pealed off into some timber, with his cows continuing on into the next basin. The race was on to cut off the bull at the saddle. Adrenalin flowing, I was running through the timber over logs and under branches. Close to the saddle I slowed my pace to see the bull appear on cue. He moved quickly with his nose to the ground following the scent left by his harem. There was a stiff wind probably 15 miles per hour right in the bulls face. I let him cross 70 yards out in the open, and then took up pursuit. With the bull on a mission and the wind covering my noise I was “all in” jogging right behind this bull in bow range. There was no shot angle, and he would not stop moving. Up ahead the drainage turned which would put that bull at a good angle. I raced ahead, and knelt in front of a bush. As the bull turned I was already at full draw, mouthed my loudest cow call and settled in. The shot was true and soon I followed up the blood trail to my trophy. All those tough years of hard knocks has come full circle to serve bowhunting justice. What a great Madison valley bull!

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Fifty five yards and closing, the buck was walking right at me. I leaned out of sight, and eased my bow back. I waited for my opportunity to loose an arrow; he walked straight at me until spotting my dark figure hiding behind a piece of sage. He bolted, but he was too late. I had placed a perfect arrow through both lungs. I was only 4 hours into my 2008 Montana antelope season, and it was over a little quicker than expected. It was a nice respectable antelope and I was proud of this trophy. The perfect execution of a spot and stalk antelope helps build my confidence, and extra time to prepare for my most anticipated hunt of the season.

I was fortunate enough this year to draw a Wyoming mule deer tag. I will be hunting mule deer in some of the most breathtaking country with my bow. It will be the first time I have hunted Wyoming so I tried to learn and condense as much information on this new country as I could. I know there will be hardships and challenges I will face on this alpine Wyoming mule deer hunt. I believe the ever evolving preparations, day in and day out, all the hard running miles, many arrows, and sacrifices I have made will pay off.

I arrive a couple days before season. My plan is to make two separate 5 day backpacking hunts into areas I have scouted earlier. After loading up I quickly start putting miles between me and hunting pressure. The country is some of the prettiest high country I have ever hunted. Big, steep rugged country with isolated lush green basins sitting amongst the rocks and timber patches. This is absolutely perfect mule deer country. I have anticipated and prepared all year to be back deep in the mountains challenging myself against one of my favorite adversaries the high county mule deer. Early in the afternoon I make my way up to the ridge, and traverse a couple of basins. I am not quite to the place I wanted to get to, but the country starts looking pretty bucky, soon my pack is off and I am picking apart these high country basins.

After seeing a few smaller bucks I pick out a huge bedded mule deer, heavy velvet horns with huge backs, an obvious shooter. It’s the day before season so I decide to slip over to the adjoining basin and peer inside. Immediately I see two bucks both in velvet one with a good frame with some trash, and one super tall deep forked buck, heavy with a nice inline. Both bucks have huge bodies and are already in their gray winter coats. Three shooters in two basins, to say I am exited is the understatement of the year. My mind starts kicking into overdrive as I plot and plan how I will sneak within a stones throw of these high country monarchs. I decide to make camp over the ridge a ways. I find a marginal spot on the edge of some shale slides at over 10,000 feet. I kick out a spot and get my bivy tent set up just in time as a huge storm rolls in. It starts to rain, and then proceeds to dump snow for two days. I made several attempts to spot one of the shooters, but the fog always prevailed. It was cold tough living, but knowing I have three shooters over the ridge made staying in my alpine perch easy.

Late in the afternoon on the third day of the hunt, it finally starts to clear. Snow covered peaks and basins start to reveal bucks. I spot one of the shooters I had seen days prior. He is super tall with deep forks and a 6 inch inline. A gorgeous buck that would exceed my expectations. The buck is bedded with 5 or maybe more of his buddies. With 2 hours of day light and a good wind I quickly drop the thousand vertical feet to the ridge within 150 yards of the bucks. The wind gets a little fickle. My first instinct is to go look and see if I can get a shot, but I decide not to risk it. I make the long climb back up to the ridge to arrive just before dark. I see the tall inline buck still bedded in the same spot. I tell myself I made the right decision, patience will kill the buck.

I am up early, before light on the forth day at my new favorite high glassing position. I am fogged in for the first hour but as it begins to clear multiple bucks emerge. The tall inline buck from the night before is with a hard horned 3 point. They bed with both of the bucks with a good vantage, no play here. Down below there are eight bucks one is the big framed buck with stickers I saw earlier. After a couple of hours of watching and waiting, its mid morning and the bucks are up feeding with rising thermals. The sticker buck feeds in range of a steep chute. The thought of falling off long drop offs keeps my full attention as I skirted cliff bans, and steep clay avalanche chutes, slick from the recent moisture. Soaking wet and covered in mud, my adrenalin starts to race as I close the gap. I play cat and mouse for a few minutes trying to crawl into position, but the big sticker buck feeds just out of range. I watch him and all his buddies bed down. After a couple of hours watching the bucks swapping beds, the sticker buck beds in a vulnerable spot. I slip into range of the buck with an arrow knocked. I feel like I have him, I am in range with good wind. I sit motionless for over an hour waiting for him to stand. Suddenly it happens, a buck either notices me or smells me and blows out. When the big buck broke he never gave me a shot.

No time to reflect on what went wrong, as I make it back to my pack I see the tall inline buck with the 3 point hard horn in a crease over a rise, they obviously never saw the eight spooked bucks below them in the basin. They are in a great spot with the wind right, so I quickly put a plan into action. I shed my shoes and slip across the steep gravel slope, as I get to the ridge I peek over the rise, the bucks are feeding unaware of my presence. I range a tree branch overtop of the deer, right at 50 yards. I draw back and rise up, I settle my pin, and ease the trigger. The arrow slips in tight behind the shoulder. Success! I knelt down in absolute excitement; I knew I placed a good arrow. What a feeling to know all the blood, sweat, and tears I put in returns 360 degrees to come together to accomplished my lofty goal of arrowing a trophy mule deer. After a short tracking job I find my buck, this buck is a true giant, heavy and high. I am thrilled to harvest such a magnificent buck. It doesn’t get any better than trying to match wits with high country mule deer in remote alpine basins. Thanks to the guys at Big Sky Archery for always keeping me shooting straight.

Brian Barneys equipment:

• Bow: Hoyt Katera
• String: Winners choice
• Arrows: Easton camo fmj
• Broadheads: Magnum slick tricks
• Optics: Swarovski
• Camo: Sika hunting clothing

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I recall a very heavy feeling to my bow as I raised and counted the pins. I did not get much space between my forty and fifty pin to compensate the now 46 yard shot. He raced off and jumped the fence. Great, now I have to call my neighbor and explain that I just shot a mature buck and yes he jumped the fence and no I did not intend for that to happen. I watched as he ran to a walk and walked to a stop and bedded within 60 yards of where the shot went off. Oh well I thought, sure I hit a little low but it was a Grim Reaper 125 after all.

I walked back to the house to get my family for a fun retrieval. My wife did not believe that I just shot a deer because it was time for lunch, not time for a hunting excursion. We ate with me twitching and blabbering because all I could concentrate on was getting this deer captured. We all struck out in a string, our two and a half year old with his favorite scoped rifle (plastic) and our seven month old in a pack on mom’s back. As we walked and talked the air was light as I showed them where I shot from and where the arrow was still in the snow and the blood was good.

Kurt with his recovered buck

I glassed over to where I had last seen him and to the right of where he had bedded we see a very similar buck stand, turn around, and lay back down. Instantly I was scared. Oh no, I really did hit as low as I thought? I quickly retreated as a two and a half year old does not recognize the importance of quiet when hunting and especially not when the animal is alive and in front of you. I was a mess. I hate these situations and I wished I wasn’t in one again. My mind racing reviewing the shot in my mind, I phoned a good friend of mine, Brian Barney. “Hey what’s up?” the familiar voice said. I explained the situation that I faced, the humiliation of the deer being on the neighbor’s side of the fence now, and my apparently ground tied bow that was tethered so that the bow would not rise beyond a forty yard pin. “I’ll be over in an hour and we’ll go get him,” was the quick response Brian gave. Man did I feel better; not because he was coming over but because hunter to hunter his words of encouragement put my mind to rest and helped me believe what I already knew I needed to do.

We waited another hour after he arrived then set out. With a light fresh snow that morning the tracking was easy. Pretty quick we came to his first bed. Surprised he wasn’t in it we searched on. After a few beds we realized this was going to get long. We agreed that he was sick or he wouldn’t bed so much. Encouraged we moved on. Blood now got thin and I started to dread the loss of this deer. His tracks mixed among all the other deer tracks made things a little trickier. We tracked on at a snail’s pace going blood to blood and track to track. Every time the brush thickened we felt for sure he would be in there. This went on for another hundred yards. As we crawled through the brush not ten yards away, there was the buck, lying flat, head down like a cat sneaking through the grass after its prey.

I looked at his ears, and as I determined that he had not expired. Brian said, “He’s breathing”. I quickly knocked another arrow. I side stepped until I had enough of a shot to take. My arrow struck its mark and the buck was up and away. With that we both agreed this was it he would not be far. We tracked him down less than fifty yards from the second shot and there he lay. A great feeling of relief came over me.

I chose to write this because no one I know wants to live this scenario or admit that they have had to live it themselves. All I can say is it is so much easier to deal with, with the right support and help. My conscience would have eaten me alive to know that I hadn’t given it my all. Thanks Brian for your help and willingness to stick it out with me and take the lead when I needed it.

Oh and by the way if that first shot would have been a mere one to two inches higher I would not have had such a long story to tell.

Kurt Graden

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