So Close.....

It's been almost 10 days since I left the mountains of Colorado and I simply cannot get rid of this sick feeling I have in my gut. Working and grinding for 364 days to prepare only to find myself coming home empty handed leaves me with an absolute horrible feeling of failure. A feeling that I simply cannot stand. In fact, I hate it. The elk, the mountains, the entire Colorado experience smoked me. I had 8 days to get it done and I failed.

The facts show that success rates in this high pressure, over the counter unit run just a shade under 10%. And that's any elk, any weapon (bow, rifle or muzzleloader). Obviously not the best odds, however I expect to be one of those 10% every year. Period. Plain and simple. Anything less, no matter how many ways I try to spin the experience is a failure to me. And after looking at the sticker (Failure Is Not An Option) on my bow limb for the millionth time before packing it up to come home, I pretty much feel like a 1000lb weight has been directly dropped on the Shoemaker pride-o-meter.

Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. In fact as with any hunt not only are there lessoned to be learned, but there are also many memories that are created. Take for example Day 3 when I had a monster of a bull at a mere 6 yards.

Pup, I and Cow happened to be together and making our way to another part of the mountain. On our way we heard a bugle from below. Quickly we dropped our packs to make our move. Pup cow called and instantly the bull responded with a bugle. He was below and to our left. Trying to put the wind in our favor we dropped in elevation as quickly as possible.

As we worked down he bugled again. He was still to our left but had now moved above us. We tweaked our location. 2 minutes pass and the bull bugled again. He was still above us but was now moving to our right. We moved again. Another cow call, another bugle. By now the bull had made almost a complete circle and his bugle told us he was closing the distance. Trying to gauge his path I moved forward into a small opening to set up behind the only bush available. I burned holes through that bush looking for the first sign of movement as I nocked an arrow.

As I stand there ready he bugled. He is so close and I know at any second I should see movement. Before that thought even leaves my mind I see him. He is directly ahead of me. The first thing I see is the tips of his antlers bobbing in rhythm as he walks. With each step he is closes the distance…..30 yards, 20 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards……..he finally stops at a mere 6 yards just on the other side of the bush. He is directly facing me, I have no shot.

Struggling to hold it together and desperately trying to figure where my shot is going to come the bull looks right, looks left. Right on cue Pup gives a cow call to which the bull explodes with a bugle and grunts. That bull was so close that I could hear him breathing, I kid you not.

Although it was an awesome experience to have a bull of this magnitude right on top of me, it did me no good. He was facing me and was almost too close. I knew if I have any chance of arrowing this pig, I needed him to go right. If he went left it’s over (wind) if he goes right I got a chance. He starts to move and just my luck he takes 2 steps left and got my wind. In one single move he turns and bolts. I run out from behind the bush, pull, and give a cow call desperately hoping he stops. He didn’t. An awesome experience to say the least but one for me that ended less than ideal.

Over the course of the rest of the week I/we were on animal’s everyday. The next best opportunity for me came on day 8 during the last morning of the hunt. At first light I could hear a bull sounding off over on a distant knob next to a cut I had been in 2 days prior. I was off, investing 2 hours and a mile trying to get in on him.

Making my way ever-so-slowly through the oak brush I was finally able to close the distance. Gaining a good position I moved down in elevation, put the wind in my favor, and cow called. If you would have asked me at that moment I would have told you I had this bull smoked. I knew where he was, where he would come, and that there was no possible way he could get the wind on me. I sat waiting as my mind started to wonder. And this is where I got in trouble.

Of course I knew it was the last morning of the hunt. There were no second chances. I hadn’t heard him bugle in about 15 minutes and after much discussion with myself I decided I needed to make a move. If he was coming he would have been here and if he was leaving I needed to get to him fast. The conversation seemed so logical at the time. Before I could even think rationally my patience got the best of me and I got up, took 2 steps, and busted the bull. He was only 20 yards from me. I wanted to puke. I had just blown what could have been the clinching moment of the entire trip. It had been 8 long days of pushing myself to the limit only to blow it all in the final hour.

Now I know no one knows for sure what would have happened, but one thing is for sure, busting a bull 20 yards from where I was sitting was a hard lesson to swallow. A few more minutes and I’d like to think this entire story ends a little differently.

The 09’ Elk season will be defined with lessons learned and memories created, nothing more. Looking back over the past year I have worked harder than I ever have shooting, training, and pushing myself to new levels trying to take chance out of the equation. In 09’ I have trained to be the best bowhunter I can be. And to be honest, the hard part isn’t the preparation and effort that it takes……it’s the realization that as of today my best is not good enough.

So now it’s back to drawing board to find some how, some way to get it done in 2010. New goals will be made, new levels of what I think is even possible will be tested both physically and mentally. Coming home empty handed is not something I want to do again in 2010. I’ll push on, push harder, and raise the bar again to be the best bowhunter I can be. Let the quest begin, 353 days and counting.