An Elk for Emily

by George King

You can bank on two things come mid-December in the Gunnison Basin of Western Colorado — snow and subzero temperatures. This year would prove no different. There was already about 18 inches of the driest champagne powder on the winter range and the mercury was dipping to -20 degrees at night, perfect conditions for a late season antlerless elk hunt. This would be the first opportunity for my 12-year-old daughter Emily to give elk hunting a try.

In anticipation of this day about eight years before, I’d bought her a rifle from my good buddy Mike at the local sporting goods establishment. Emily accompanied me on many of my visits to that store where she made great sport of rearranging large bins of tube jigs in the fishing section while I perused the firearms department. She entertained herself as well as the staff.

Emily and I frequented the local gun club where she had the opportunity to handle and shoot a myriad of small caliber rifles and handguns. She proved to be a natural at shooting and enjoyed it immensely. This went on for a number of years and then one day she asked me if I would take her hunting. Wow, I thought to myself, this is exactly how it is supposed to happen. She completed the State of Colorado hunter safety education program and began to practice with her Remington 700 7mm-08. She was able to apply for a limited antlerless elk license in 2005 since she would turn twelve by the time the season opened.

I spent an ample amount of time poking around the confines of the Gunnison National Forest checking on the whereabouts and movement of elk in some of the more popular winter range areas. I did this while Emily was in school in order to make our time afield more efficient. I saw numerous elk including some stellar bulls that made things look pretty promising. Emily and I managed to pair up on a few occasions looking for a nice cow to fill the family freezer but were unable to connect because we were not in the right place at the right time.

My wife and I decided to take a Sunday drive through an area north of Gunnison just to get out and enjoy the spectacular winter landscape and take advantage of the great opportunity that existed for viewing wildlife that normally included big horn sheep, mule deer, and of course elk. Emily decided to remain at home to complete some homework assignments. As luck would have it, we saw a large group of elk moving through a saddle and into a little protected basin out of sight from any late season elk hunters who were concentrating their efforts in other parts of the hunting unit. I was relatively certain that no one else had seen these elk let alone knew where they were headed.

I made a quick cell phone call to Emily and told her about our elk sighting and to see how the homework was coming along. She was excited, so I told her to get suited up if she wanted to try for one. Emily was waiting patiently at the back door when I pulled the Toyota into the driveway. She waited for me to change clothes and gather my gear along with her rifle. We rolled out of town at a good pace and headed north to where I had last seen the elk.

I parked the pickup, we got out, Emily loaded four rounds in the magazine, and we began working our way up a steep slope hoping to catch a glimpse of the elk my wife and I had seen about an hour before. The snow was more than knee deep and the temperature was already zero or below at 3:00 PM. There would be no time to waste since there were only two hours of shooting light remaining. We moved quickly but slowed as we approached the crests of small ridges hoping to catch the elk feeding. Eventually we popped our heads up to discover a small group of cows and calves staring right at us. The distance was about 50 yards and there was nothing we could do but freeze and wait. Unfortunately, the elk moved away very quickly and there was no time to set up for a good shot. We continued to move in the direction that the elk had retreated and luckily ran on to the entire herd as they fed and milled around in the secluded basin.

Emily set up for a shot which was a little on the long side for a novice elk hunter. She was well practiced and confident with her 7mm-08 Remington Mountain Rifle. We bellied down in the snow, extended the legs of the Harris BiPod, and Emily chambered a round. The distance was slightly less than 300 yards, but from a dead rest I figured she could make the shot. I told her to pick out a spot right behind the shoulder on the cow and squeeze the trigger when everything was just right. The shot echoed through the basin but I saw no evidence of a hit while watching closely through the binoculars. She looked over her shoulder and quietly asked me, “What happened?” I told her that she had likely missed but we needed to check and make certain that it was a clean miss. We moved quickly to the spot where the cow had stood and found no signs of a hit. Emily was obviously disappointed with the missed opportunity but eager to keep moving and hopefully catch up with the elk. I appreciated her enthusiasm but was not overly optimistic that we would be granted another chance. Her young legs carried her through the deep snow much better than mine.

Unbeknownst to us, there was someone else in the area. Another hunter that we never saw bumped the herd and turned them back in our direction. Once again we got down and got set up for a shot. Most of the elk in the herd stopped out of range but a branch antlered bull accompanied by a nice dry cow continued in our direction. The two animals appeared quite relaxed and totally unaware of our presence. This was quickly becoming our best opportunity of the afternoon. The one thing we had to make sure of this time was to make certain that she took aim at the cow since she possessed a permit for an antlerless elk. I whispered to her that one of the two elk was a bull and to make absolutely sure she did not shoot at the bull. She confirmed that she knew which elk to shoot. The distance was again about 300 yards but it just felt better this time. I told her to put the cross hairs about six inches below the top of the cows back and right behind the front shoulder. Emily looked as though she had done this many times before and needed little help. She settled in and squeezed the trigger. At the shot, I saw the elk react but it did not move more than a couple steps. In about 30 seconds, the cow staggered, toppled over, kicked a few times, and then lay still. The 130 Barnes X bullet had passed completely through the lower chest cavity.

Daylight was fading fast and I knew that we were going to need some additional help getting the elk off the mountain so I made the decision to leave the elk and head to town. The walk down the long slope was much easier than the climb up. We returned with a couple of able bodied friends, Jonah Stewart and Kendall Butts, to assist us. Since this was Emily’s elk I asked how she felt about leading us back up the long slope. She accepted the challenge and, by the light of a gloriously full moon, she set a rapid pace through the deep snow. It was a splendidly frigid and clear night with thousands of stars shining brightly. We arrived precisely at the site as planned. Our friends showed their excitement for what she had accomplished and congratulated her.

Jonah, who now runs his own outfitting business in Alaska, asked Emily if she was going to gut the elk herself. Being resourceful, she convinced Jonah to show her how it was done so she could do the next one. Jonah had the job completed in no time.

The snowy downhill slope made for an easy drag to the pickup. By the time we reached the road the temperature had dipped to 20-below. The four of us quickly loaded the elk into the back of the Toyota for the short trip back to Gunnison. When we got to the house, Emily summoned her mom to come and see what she had brought home. Mom was just as excited and helped by taking photos. We left the cow in the back of the pickup and pulled into the garage in hope that the elk would not freeze solid overnight. The next morning when Emily headed off to school, dad tended to the skinning and quartering chores. Each time we dined on elk that winter Emily always asked “Is this my elk?” It was.

I have been on many hunting adventures during my lifetime that include; Alaska, Quebec, Pennsylvania, Iowa, Wyoming, Utah, South Dakota and Colorado. This was without a doubt one of the shortest but also the best hunt of my life. I was given the opportunity to share the experience with a new willing hunting partner who just happened to be my little girl.

My only regret is, we moved away from Gunnison and have not had the opportunity for a second elk hunt. Our family moved to Juneau, Alaska in 2008 where Emily graduated from the University of Alaska. She has taught elementary school in South Texas and Austin along with a stint teaching English in Thailand. I can only hope she wants another shot at chasing the elusive wapiti with her old dad before he gets too old.

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George King spent 30 years with the U.S. Forest Service in Colorado, Alaska, and Utah as an outfitter/guide permit administrator and recreation manager.