Little Brother's New Messico Elk
My wife bought me a cow elk tag on an silent auction deal back in the summer, shortly after Rhett passed. The hunt was for two, and hosted by NM Game and Fish officials, on Vermejo Park Ranch, with lodging at the NRA's Whittington Center an hour away. This hunt being kind of in honor and in memory of T-Rad, I knew from the get go, my 2nd was going to be my son. I had told my son all along that I had waiting this long to hunt an elk, that he needed to pay his dues first that I was going to be the shooter. He was coming for the experience, and to shoot ducks after my tag was filled. I had to wait until the last minute to be sure his grades were up to par and no other issues that would drop him from the trip.
We flew out last Monday morning after a slight delay for a burnt out light bulb in CAE, to meet a connecting flight in O'Hare that was in turn delayed due to no yard dogs to move the plane to the gate. (United Airlines). After finally deplaning, and running with four pieces of luggage from gate B to gate F, we watched our connecting flight to Albuquerque taxiing down the runway....United then booked us on a series of adventures that made us 12 hours late arriving to meet our host who arrived bleary eyed but happy we finally got there. In the middle of it all, I was able to enjoy a good bbq brisket, and a lone star beer in Houston. IMG_1122.JPG
We drove through the dark 3 hours north to Raton, unloaded the truck and had a stiff drink to discuss the next day's plans. The Vermejo guide was relieved to know we wouldn't be there at 0600. We woke up to the smell of coffee brewing, frying potato's, bacon, eggs and red chilies. Had a glorious breakfast and went to sight in the rifle at the range.
I shot a few off center on purpose to dial it in, then asked the boy to see if he could send a few down range because "I couldn't get settled". His first shot was dead center at 100 yards. I told him that was good enough and we packed up for the ride into Vermejo. IMG_1128.JPG IMG_1129.JPG
We get there about noon. Get acquainted with the facilies, and our guide. At this point, my son still doesn't know the tag was in his name and we devise a plan to break it to him. In the skinning barn, I handed the manila envelope containing our licenses, and tag from NMG&F to Dave, our guide. He opened the envelope and said, "[Bigbrother] there's a problem...this tag isn't in your name...It belongs to someone named [littlebrother]". Littlebrother's voice was squeaky and cracking when he said, "Are you serious?!?!?!?!". After some hugs and back thumping, I climbed in the backseat of the guide's ranch truck and we went bebopping up and down some serious terrain. The guide then starts explaining to me that the cows had been hit pretty hard lately and were real skittish. Any truck rolling down the road was something to flee. On our ride up and down roads, we saw several nice mulies, a huge bobcat, a glimpse of what might have been a cougar, and a lone buffalo. One of my NMG&F hosts was the photographer for the dept, so we had to get some pictures of everything that stood still long enough to photograph. Finally at dusk dark, we start seeing the cows drop down into the valley. We tried to get shots at the first group, but about the time my son got settled on the sticks, they were hauling ass. Finally after chasing the same group and setting up for a shot three times, that herd disappeared back into the hills. Light was fading fast, and we were heading back to camp when we saw one more large herd and moved to close distance. The closest we could get without spooking was about 350 yards. I asked if he was comfortable with that distance and he mumbled, "yes".
We pick out a cow that was by herself and broadside, direct him to the right one and told him to shoot when he was ready. First shot was lowish, but dead center of the shoulder. She stumbled a bit, but didn't go down. Told him to put another round in her, and when he shucked the first shell, the next one didn't cycle into the bolt, so he "clicked". We get him cleared and reloaded and he put the 2nd shot high and clipped the top of the heart and lungs. The cow rolled over. First shot was a 334 yards. Second was 350. After the first shot, she crossed the creek bed and was looking for the shelter of the trees. After securing the rifle, he ran a sprint the 350 yards to his prize. I tried to follow him, but had to stop midway. That elevation thoroughly kicked my ass. We got some pictures in the failing light and proceeded to field dress her. Fortunately, we were able to find a crossing for the truck at a washout in the creek bed and were able to drive right to her. I would hate to have to drag that heavy bitch up a steep creek bank. At the barn, she weighed out at 335lbs field dressed. Tooth aging showed her to be 18 years old.
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Once we got her on the lift, skinned out, and washed off, I found five holes in her and was able to figure out where the shots went and how. I always inspect my shots and make mental notes of what I crushed vs. what I could have and I wanted to this to this cow too. First, before I explain the five holes, let me explain the rifle:
The rifle was the Savage 16 300 WSM that used to belong to Going Coastal, that then belonged to JMartin, that then belonged to me, and didn't get a scope put on it until the night before we left...The rifle was supposed to be a Christmas present and wasn't going to make the trip because I didn't have time to shoot it and find out what it liked and such. However, circumstances dictated the need to take that rifle and so there we were. I had bought Fusion 165 grain buwets because my other option was Winchester silver tips. I am glad we ended up with that rifle, even with the last minute scope mount drama.
The five holes:
It seems that some of these Fusion rounds will fragment and go everywhere on impact. I found bullet fragments everywhere, with one exit wound that punctured gut, and exited the same way. . First shot, entry was on the cow's right side. Second shot, entry was on her left. She should have dropped where she was on the first shot, but fragments went through the vitals, with the solid chunk pushing through belly and shallow backstrap and tenderloin. I thought I took pictures of the inside but after looking through my camera, I guess I didn't. was able to find part of the second bullet under the skin and it was only half of it at best.
In the skinning shed, we had to wait on the skinning rack because some other hunters were successful too. We all took notice of one of the members of the hunt party. She worked at the ranch caring for the horses and in the skinning shed. She was very capable with the knife and worked circles around the men in the group. Very very impressive. I told the boy if he was unable to lock down a gal with acreage, that one like that would do for a consolation prize.
More later...
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Originally Posted by BOG
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