Gibson Tilley

↟ Late Season Cow Elk Hunt ↟
📍Southern Alberta

Set off from the truck solo early in the morning at a crispy -23°, with a plan to get up to a vantage point to put my glass to work.

Along the way I bumped three mature coyotes out of range, who spotted me quick as I made my way to the ridge top. Once I made it up, I was surprised to find there wasn’t any wind to speak of - a rare occurrence for Southern Alberta at this time of year.

It didn’t take long to find the Elk, a healthy herd lay in the bottom across the valley, preparing to soak up the morning sunshine. After glassing, and coming up with a plan, I made my way down.

It took quite a while to get into range, without alerting the many watchful eyes which lay in the open. While closing the distance and getting into position however, I spooked the herd and they grouped together and trotted west. If you’ve hunted Elk, you know that feeling of despair. They disappeared over a ridge, approaching the heavy timber. After getting within 400 yards of the herd, I was kicking myself for not being more careful in my stalk. Since I made it so far, I thought it would be worth it to see how far they made it over the ridge and maybe, they would still be within range.

Another 1000 yards or so, and I approached the ridge they disappeared over. It wasn’t difficult to see where they went, a wide swath of tracks was giving their route away. I slowly peeked over the ridge, through the grass - and there was the herd, 120 yards away.

It doesn’t always work out like this, more often than not, the Elk vanish. This time, I was given another opportunity and made it count. Being far from the truck at this point, I made the call for backup. Two Elk hunting buddies (read; saviors) responded to my call for help, and made the trek to haul meat out of the backcountry with me.

We hit the trucks at 11pm, split up the meat and pointed the headlights home. Incredibly fortunate in a lot of ways that day, but mostly in the friendship of my Elk hunting buddies.

I owe you boys one ✌️

The Whitetail rut has slipped past for another season 🌕

Just a week ago, this buck popped out of that Aspen grove hot on the hooves of a doe. Now the bucks have broken away from the does, and settled into bachelor groups, recovering after another year of competition.

Maybe it was the full moon that had these Whitetails stirred up, or perhaps it was the last flicker of the rut burning itself out. Either way, he didn’t linger long before his hormones persisted and his pursuit continued.

One of those moments that hasn’t lost its shine, no matter how many times you get to see it.

11 years waiting for this tag. 19 days in the field. 3 target bulls on the list.

And I still could not seal the deal.

I put in the miles, spent long days on foot, and did everything I could to turn up a great bull. Having only laid eyes on one of my target bulls a single time, early in archery season while I was hanging trail cameras. After that, they outsmarted me.

The bull I eventually closed my tag on, was a local resident that I had several encounters with and had patterned on camera. With time running out, the second last day presented me with an opportunity, and I took it. It was a Saturday, and once I called Sara with the news, she immediately asked if she and Forest could come out to help.

Sharing the work, the pack up, and this whole experience with my family brought everything together in a way that felt bigger than just shooting a young bull. Now the freezers are full of good meat, and we handled the work as a family. Even our dog Pickles had a job, keeping bear patrol while we broke the animal down.

It was not the bull I had dreamed about, it’s the bull I was given. In the end, I would choose days like this in the field with my family over a giant bull every single time.

If you fish, and you’re on social media, you know how much loves Ned Rigs.

What can I say, they catch fish and only slightly resemble these trending p**p baits. He’s onto something 🧐

🧃: Berkley MaxScent Lil General on a Berkley Half Head Jig