Happy Halloween!
I really doubt I’ll see any trick-or-treaters, as the plan is to head back into this backpack elk hunting spot I’ve been frequenting. Well, I’m not sure two scouting hikes (over about a 6-month period) and one, soon to be two, actual hunting trips constitutes “frequenting”, but close enough given the amount of human activity this spot sees. In fact, at this point the grizzly bear and human tracks (other than mine) are running neck and neck at one each. I don’t think grizzlies observe Halloween, or at least I hope not!
Two would be a crowd in this campsite anyway. As I mentioned in last month’s column, I was uncertain where I was going to camp, but lucked out with a perfectly placed flat spot, just big enough for one person in a backpack tent. Well, actually in order to be perfect it would have to be about 500 vertical feet further up the mountain. Not to nitpick, though. Once you gain about 650’ from where I’m camping, there are nice flat spots in abundance, but the elk have longstanding claims on those.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though, as plenty took place in October prior to elk hunting.
Unfortunately, one thing that didn’t occur was our annual antelope expedition. That was a shame as we had not only once again secured the sweet access permission, but my son Cody will likely be gone off to school next fall, which places quite a bit more importance to all these activities. They grow up so fast…
Not only did it rain (never complain about rain in Montana, but the third antelope opener in a row…!?) rendering most of our hunt area an impassible expanse of gumbo goo, but the ranch manager confirmed the recent bluetongue outbreak had laid waste to their antelope population. He reported only about a tenth the normal antelope numbers, with dead ones all over the landscape. Bluetongue is a hemorrhagic disease that primarily affects whitetail deer. Cattle are the host species, it seems, although they aren’t bothered by it. It’s transmitted by insects, and usually not an issue after we get a killing frost. Those are coming later than they used to, though. In fact, we just finally got one here in the Bozone a few days ago, when it got down to 19. To my dismay and disgust, my golden flax appears impervious, though, and is still dead green! I’ve pretty well given up on harvesting it. Oh, well. Next year…
Anyway, this bluetongue outbreak laid waste to antelope populations also (at least in certain areas). Those will take a few years to recover, and so who knows, we may shift to another area for a while.
Perhaps it’s just as well we didn’t go antelope hunting (tsk, I don’t really believe that for a second!) as I was able to get ahead on work for a change, which put us in a better position for celebrating our 25th anniversary the following weekend. We’d rented a chalet at Chico Hot Springs, one of our all-time faves. In fact, we’ve spent the vast bulk of our anniversaries (22 or 23 out of the 25) there, a trend we expect to continue. Kim and I headed down there Friday, the kids joined us Saturday, and a grand time was had!

Skipping a noticeable amount of buffalo skinning, bookwork, bookings, and a bevy of other barrages brings us back to elk hunting.
Cody and I packed into the Madison Range for the opener, and were besides ourselves with near-ideal conditions. Sunday morning we headed up the mountain in fresh tracking snow, and before long came across a couple different sets of tracks where individual elk (undoubtedly just ginormous bulls!) had passed through in the night. I had a previously scouted hidey-hole in mind, though, and sure enough after we gained a bit more elevation we came on the recent tracks of 15-20 head. They also had passed a few hours previous, and the route they followed was uncannily precise, considering it was pitch dark when they came through. In fact, it was a textbook example of a family group being led by an experienced matriarch, and she knew exactly where to go. If you study the topo maps, there’s somewhat of an “obvious” route up into a high basin. Following it in the dark would be an entirely different matter, but these elk clearly knew where they were going.
So we followed them; up, and up, and straight up some more, always expecting to come onto them over every little bench we crested, but no… Finally, well over 9000’, we began to question our sanity. They showed no sign of letting up, retrieval would all but require a helicopter, and when the tracks cruised right on through the aforementioned basin to points unknown we gave it up. I bet that herd of elk never even SEES humans during hunting season!
There were a few other elk around, but our hunting time is short this year and we are restricting it to high-probability exercises, so decided to pull out and go to another of our favorites, where there are always elk, although not much in the way of big bulls, usually. We had a few misgivings, as this would have made for an exceptionally long day, but nothing ventured…
When we stopped at the check station, the local biologist said we’d be wasting our time, though. Being skeptical by nature, we took a drive down that way and confirmed he was right. All the elk in the vicinity were clustered in two big herds out on the flats, in pretty much a predator-proof gathering, with nary a track up on the slopes where we usually hunt them. I’m sure wolves factored heavily into the situation, but I swear, elk have developed uncannily accurate internal calendars also.
Craig recommended another couple of spots, but I’ve hunted those a lot, and luck factors into the equation even more than usual. Cody didn’t really want to miss school on a low-probability exercise, and so we reluctantly bagged it and came home.
This was predestined, though. Joel Lindstrom of Leonardo Technologies was filtering our camelina oil on Monday, and it was nice to get in on that project. I think he was glad that I saw it’s a pretty involved process, and still in the mid-parts of the learning curve. That’s saying something, as Joel is a sharp guy, and as the saying goes; if it were easy…
This filter of his gets the oil just unbelievably pure, though, and down to a viscosity where it will go bang without further modification. In fact his filter is powered by a Kubota diesel generator running on straight camelina oil. It was 38 here that morning, and it fired instantly, quicker than my pickup truck does on petro diesel!
Since ours is organic, we’re looking more at the human consumption aspects than fuel, though, and were intensely disgusted to learn the Montana Department of Agriculture refuses to approve either the oil or meal for human or animal consumption. That’s a whole story in itself, one that isn’t sitting well with not only producers such as ourselves, but MSU researchers and nearly everyone else involved with emerging agricultural technologies. Frankly, I have had profoundly negative experience with a former bureau chief in the Dept. of Ag, and it may be time for some housecleaning in that department.

Aside from that it became clear that we’d made the right decision to come home, later Monday afternoon. Cody got home from school and took his 45/70 (the caliber the Indians used against Custer) over on the farm to see about getting a muley doe, as we’re nearly out of buffalo. He immediately came roaring home for a change of weaponry, as the biggest buck in the neighborhood was bedded in our hay field. Cody drew the Bridger Buck Tag this year, crawled across the pasture, and nailed a very nice muley with a 300+ yard shot, incidentally the first time he’d fired his “new” rifle. It’s a custom 30-06 Ackley Improved purchased from internet buddy/gun nut Ross Leggett. Maybe I’m a bad father, but Cody was short of time/hadn’t gotten around to it, so I’d developed a load and sighted it in. So the first time Cody pulls the trigger (with a live round in the chamber, at least) he nails a trophy muley! Gotta like that…

After cramming three days worth of work into Monday and part of Tuesday, I headed back over to the Madison and my current backpack spot, which did not disappoint. In fact, I got into four bunches of elk. The first two were cows, or at least I didn’t see any antlers. FWP is screaming we need to kill more elk, as we have 12,000 too many! Oh, woe is us... I could have shot a truckload of cows, but hey, I’m holding out for Mr. Big, so unless they’ll give me two tags, forget about it.
I could have shot a decent 5-point out of the third group, but am not pulling the trigger on anything smaller than I’ve already gotten in past years. Elk from this spot are coming out on your back, with possibly close to 3500’ vertical gain (and loss, shudder) times four trips… So no, we’re talking BIG antlers or nothing.
I came within a gnat’s eyebrow of that with the fourth group, though. By that time I was back up over 9000’, and starting to develop “tunnel vision” from fatigue. I was watching bits and pieces of elk in the timber, and was startled when I looked to the right and saw a cow standing completely in the open about 70 yards away, who had me dead to rights. There was another mostly obscured elk ahead of her, and looking through my scope I had a split-second glimpse of a big antler. My only shot opportunity was through about a six inch opening between trees, complicated with numerous branches. Yes, a marginal shot at best, and in less time than it takes to type this he took off, rendering such decisions moot. I’m still glad I held off, though. I was thrilled just to have gotten into so many elk!
Something else happened, though, which yes, approaches the mystical, but I’ve seen it too many times to discount. Actually, I didn’t discount even the first time it happened, many years ago.
Numerous times in my life now, I’ve had eagles fly unnaturally close. This has always occurred prior to positive events, or at critical junctures, and yes, I view it as a message, a positive omen. And no, it hasn’t just been on hunts or other recreational ventures, on the contrary in fact. For one example the first time it occurred was just after we bought our property here north of Bozeman back in 1981. We’d just pulled onto the place to begin work on it, I was unloading a utility tractor off a trailer, when a bald eagle flew about ten feet overhead. That’s happened here again since, too.
It also happened the first time I scouted this spot, last March, and on this most recent elk hunt, just after I’d gotten back down to camp, it happened again. A bald eagle flew over within about fifteen feet.
Good Medicine?
No question in my mind. Gracias...