The fun started when I opened the hunt application envelope and saw the word,
"Successful." I put the paper back into the envelope before it struck me.... I
had drawn out on the limited entry bull elk hunt! I couldn't believe it! My Dad couldn't
believe it either. He had applied nearly every year for over 20 years and had never drawn
out. How could a 16-year-old kid draw out instead of him? Our summer was filled with lots
of 4 a.m. scouting trips. My good friends, Phil and Paul Blad, were very familiar with the
area and helped me, along with my Dad and family.
Opening morning we woke up to elk bugling all around the mountain...some
within a few hundred yards of the tent. Talk about elk fever! We saw a lot of bulls that
first morning in the 300- to 330-class range. I had a close encounter with a 365 bull. It
was extremely hard to pass up that bull, but I knew there were bigger bulls in the area.
The Blads had told me about several huge bulls that they had been watching for several
years, one in particular that they had named Samson. |
Philip Tuttle with his Utah State Record elk taken
when he was only 16 years old
|
We returned to hunt Monday and hunted
throughout the day. With an hour of daylight left my dad and I returned to the canyon
where the bulls had been bugling two days earlier. I passed up another 360+ bull, and my
dad got really frustrated with me. He told me that if I wasn't going to shoot that he was
taking me home! |
Back in camp, we listened as an approaching storm started to arrive. The tent was
pelted with huge raindrops. In the morning we woke up to rain, thunder, and lightning. As
we were starting to walk toward the canyon, we heard a close bugle. I sneaked in for a
closer look. To my amazement, there stood the biggest bull I had ever seen! The thunder
and lightning enabled me to crawl closer to him without him seeing, hearing, or smelling
me. He had several satellite bulls trying to take his harem. Once he charged and ran the
larger challenger off; I thought he was gone for the day. Several minutes later though, he
was back again. With the help of the storm, I worked my way to within 200 yards of him
over the next 20 minutes. The lightning and thunder were pounding the mountain in an
almost rhythmic fashion. The rutting bull was constantly bugling and moving around. The
sight was spectacular. With all of the circumstances of the morning, I was able to take
the bull with my 7mm Remington magnum. My dad literally tackled me when the elk went down!
I told my dad that I felt everything came together so well because of the prayers and hard
work of many people spotting and helping with camp. Dad finally admitted that he was glad
that I hadn't shot the elk the night before. I had shot a trophy elk! I could hardly
believe it! When I took the bull off the mountain I immediately found my friend, Phil
Blad. Phil green-scored the bull at 407 and told me that it was Samson - the bull that he
and Paul had followed for four years. I about fainted!
Everyone asks me what in the world I am going to do for the rest of my
life when it comes to the elk hunt since I got my trophy elk when I was only 16 years old.
All I can say is that I'm looking forward to lots of new experiences throughout my life!
The beauty of the mountains, streams, and wildlife is something too few experience. I feel
all these things come from the Lord, and I thank Him for this experience.  |
