Many years ago, when I was younger and dumber
, I went with a friend who had a cow tag in a unit that was a late season (fer sure) hunt.
We got to our spot before light, settled in a short distance from the pick-up, and waited for the action to start; and it did. Shots began to ring out at first light, and soon a huge herd of elk began filtering up through the clear-cut valley that we were watching. The elk weren't going to come as close as we might have wished, but a small group of them stopped at what we later paced at 300+ yards. John made a beautiful shot, and a nice cow slumped down where she stood stone dead. We walked out to her and she was neck shot about three vertebrae from the head. I told John that it was pretty risky trying a neck shot from that far, and he said he had done nothing of the sort.
We went back to the truck, chained up all four tires and managed to drive down through the clear-cut (in about a foot of snow), all the way to our elk. We gutted her out, and with a chain hoist and a sheet of plywood, managed to winch the unskinned intact carcass into the back of the truck, and were pretty proud of ourselves. We had a little tougher time driving back up to the road, but we finally made it.
We had heard some shots a little further up the valley from us and John thought he might know who it was and they could probably use our help. We drove up that way and sure enough we found the guys sitting on the tailgate having a cup of coffee. The younger of the two was pushing eighty, and they looked happy as a couple of kids. John mentioned the shots we had heard and asked if they had killed anything.
"Right over there." they pointed, and we could see the blood and meat at the end of a short trail in the snow. We all walked out to it, and here is where it gets good.
They had shot the cow less than fifty yards from their truck -dead. The hide had been beautifully skinned and spread out in the snow, and on top of it was the meat which had been cut into pieces that even these two old coots could handle. They had done all of this in the time that we had spent loading up our elk, (unskinned) and when we asked if we could help them load up the meat, they said, "Nah, we're gonna let it cool a little longer." They told us we'd better get going and get the hide off of ours, and they were right.
God only knows how many elk these old guys had handled over the years, but it was easy to see that they were good at it, and they had gotten smarter as they got older.
I have killed, or been involved in killing several elk since that time, and have concluded that handling a whole carcass is just plain dumb. I'm still stout enough to carry a hind quarter on my pack, and when I can't I'll lop it at the knee and make two trips out of it. I can only hope that when I'm as old as those old boys I'll still be able to make it look as easy as they did. jd