THE ELK HUNT OF MY DREAMS - IN OKLAHOMA!

As told by Bob Mathis

I am a hunter. I have long known that to be happy I must spend a certain amount of my life in the woods. My father took me on my first hunt when I was six and began my education of animal habits, tracking, woodcraft and hunting ethics, just as his father had done before him, and I did with my sons at a very early age. I have hunted quail, geese, ducks, prairie chicken, turkey, hogs, coyotes, prairie dogs, pronghorn and whitetail with great success; I have never had any luck hunting elk - a lot of fun but no luck. I had made six trips to Colorado and have had some great times with my hunting buddies out in the wilderness but had yet to see a legal elk in my sights. I was in my 50s, had just built a new home and I wanted a nice 6x6 to hang in a place of honor above my fireplace. Best of all my wife agreed to spring for the hunting trip of my dreams.

I did my research and spent months deciding just where I wanted to hunt. I chose to hunt “behind a fence” to ensure that I would get a chance at a real trophy bull, however, at the same time I wanted to have to really hunt for my animal, not just shoot him out of a pasture. I went to the SCI convention, looked at the booths and talked to a lot of people. I learned how to use the internet so I could explore all the hunting sites and compare what everybody had to offer. I talked to other hunters and listened to both good and bad hunting experiences. I finally narrowed it down to three places. I learned that Trophy Elk Outfitters had acquired a part of the historic Turkey Track Ranch in Oklahoma and were going to offer elk hunts. I had hunted on parts of the Turkey Track Ranch before and knew that the record non-typical Oklahoma whitetail buck had been taken very near the hunting preserve. I knew that the area was rugged enough to make a challenging hunt and knew that it was prime habitat, I just did not know what quality of elk I would encounter.

I booked my hunt for late October when the bulls would be in full rut, the nights might be cold but the days would be just chilly enough to make for great hunting weather. From my first glimpse of the hunt area I was impressed, this was great hunting country! The hunt area includes two mesa tops with Wild Horse Creek watershed lying between them in the bottoms. The fall foliage was stunning, a mixture of reds, yellows and oranges amid the greens of cedars and pines. We scouted along a running creek, crawled over moss covered boulders, came upon a grotto long eroded by ancient springs, hiked up rocky hillsides, waded through buffalo grass, fought our way through thickets and saw native turkey and whitetail deer all to the sounds of bugling elk bulls. I was beginning to realize that this was going to be a real hunt, the terrain and cover was going to make it a challenge to find and bring down my bull. We saw a lot of bulls, but mostly the rear end disappearing into the brush.

That evening, over a great steak dinner with all the trimmings, we talked hunting and the type of hunt I expected. TEO prides their selves on finding out just what kind of bull you are looking for, the type of hunt you want and then delivering it. I told my guide I wanted a typical 6x6 in the 360 range and did not mind covering some ground to get the bull I wanted.

Breakfast was at 5:00 a.m. - eggs, bacon, sausage, and home made biscuits and gravy that I fell in love with. By daybreak we were up on the ridge glassing the valley and let me tell you, the wind really blows up on top, it makes for cold mornings but you get to see a lot of elk activity. Since cows and calves run in the preserve along with the bulls, sometimes you get quite a show. We slowly worked our way down into the valley and flushed out two young bulls hiding in cedar and buckbrush thickets, you can’t believe how well these bulls can hide, I walked within 6 feet of one of them and never saw him before he jumped up and went crashing through the underbrush. We followed a creek bed and found a nice 5x6 coming down for a morning drink, he was not what I wanted but we enjoyed watching him drink and thrash a sapling before moving on. We began working our way across an open field dotted with large cedar trees to an area where the bachelor bulls liked to graze before bedding down for the afternoon. We spotted several bulls that morning, two of them were particularly nice heavy beamed 6x6, I though they were huge but my guide said no more than 350 so I passed them up hoping for a larger bull.

By late afternoon I was belly down on a ridge, laying in a growth of saplings and watching the show of a lifetime. The big bull we had spotted the evening before had moved his cows into a grassy clearing and was in the process of making himself a fine wallow. First he tore at the grass, stabbing his antlers into the soft soil time and time again and throwing clumps of mud and grass over his head, neck and back. Then he ran over to a thicket and thrashed the undergrowth, some of the smaller limbs tangled in his antlers and he proudly carried them as he stalked stiff legged, nostrils wide and showing red, eyes bulged and showing the whites, back to his wallow where he proceeded to spray urine all over his belly, the wallow itself, then lower his head sprayed through his front legs to wet his neck and head. He repeatedly threw himself in the mud, one side and then the other, pawing the ground between and spraying all the while, until he had himself fully covered in slimy, smelly goo. He stood up, let out a massive bugle followed by several grunts and trotted over to check his cows. He went to each cow, stuck his nose in their butt, curled back his lip to sort out the smells and then cut loose with a bugle. If a cow was laying down he would hit her with his front hoof until she got up so he could smell her. Some of the cows he lingered over, rubbing his neck over their shoulders and back, a few cows he false mounted. I watched, spellbound, fascinated and feeling grateful that I was allowed to be a witness to elk being elk. It happened so quick I almost missed it, if I had looked away at the wrong time I would have, but that bull bred a cow, jumping almost straight up into the air, only touching her lightly with his front feet. It was amazing. I knew right then that was enough, even if I did not bag my bull, seeing that would be enough.

Back at headquarters that evening I had a great meal, they really know how to cook! If I wasn’t getting so much exercise I would have gained 5 pounds. The lodge is one of the most comfortable places I have ever stayed and the southern hospitality can’t be beat. The rooms are first rate, the great room with its fireplace makes a great place to visit and relax while your meal is prepared and you just can’t beat a hot shower after a long day. It was a real treat to hear elk bugling outside my window as I fell asleep.

We rousted out early the next morning so we would be in the blind well before dawn and it was worth the effort. Watching the sky turn first light blue and purple followed by reds and pink with finally a brilliant red/yellow ball topping the ridge while below deer, elk, turkey and an assortment of smaller wildlife such as racoons and armadillos moved about. We could hear the elk long before we could see them, when it finally got full light I immediately spotted “my” bull. He was grazing just inside the tree line on the far edge of the clearing and he was a beauty! His body was light tan but his legs, belly, neck and face were so dark they were almost black. His antlers were thick beamed, massive with beautiful coloring, really dark main beams and tips polished white and shining in the sun, a perfectly symmetrical 6x6 bull. My guide estimated him at 365-370 and I made my choice.

Since several bulls were feeding in the clearing and mine was on the far side and looking like he was moving into the trees, we took the long away around and set up between two grassy benches separated by blackjack thickets. My bull was moving through the trees toward us, taking his time and stopping to thrash sumac and smaller trees along the way. We cut loose with a couple of bugles to see if we could get him on the prod and out in the open and he would raise his head and return our bugle then go back to trashing. He was suspicious and refused to come out of the trees for a clear shot. A sudden wind gust allowed him to scent us and he threw back his head, tilting his antlers over his back, and took off like a rocket, I listened, disappointed, as he crashed through the undergrowth.

We had a pretty good idea where he was heading and we took off double time to get in position to intercept him. We spotted him coming off the mesa at a trot, heading for a southern slope bench where the bulls liked to bed down. We worked around to the northern side of a cooley, crawling through the grass and oh so carefully creeping through cedars to a shooting position across and just down hill from my bull. My guide estimated the yardage, reminded me to allow for the fact I was shooting slightly uphill, set my sticks and told me to hold until he came into the open between two massive cedars. I sighted in and waited, patience paid off and my luck held, he came into perfect position for a clean broadside shot right behind the shoulder. I squeezed the trigger, saw him stagger at the impact, gathered himself and make on last jump. He fell sliding downhill about 20 feet through a thicket, coming to rest with his back lodged in the trees. I crawled down to my bull, elated with the hunt, grateful for the opportunity and awed at a close up view of this magnificent creature.

I had the ultimate elk hunt. I was right smack in the middle of rutting elk and even watched a bull breed a cow, something the most avid elk hunter will never see in a lifetime. I chose to hunt in Oklahoma, a place not known for quality elk, and saw bigger bulls than anything I had ever seen in the western states. I hunted in country that was beautiful as well as a challenge both mentally and physically. I worked my butt off for that bull - I cherish the memories and feel the excitement and pride of the hunt every time I look at him over my fireplace. I’ll be back.

I wrote this story about 3 years ago after my first hunt with Trophy Elk Outfitters. I had such a great time hunting there that I jumped at the chance to become part of the team. This year you will be hunting with me.

A little background on the bulls.... Sam and Sharrie have been raising elk since 1972 with an intense focus on trophy genetics. They produce fantastic bulls and only breed with 400+ herdsires. They have provided bulls for some of the top hunting ranches for many years and seen their bulls listed in the top scores of the SCI record book under other ranch names. When part of the historic Turkey Track Ranch came up for sale they jumped at the chance to open a elk hunting preserve featuring the best natural habitat in the central United States stocked with their championship genetics. Sam personally picks each of the 40 trophy bulls released on the preserve each year.