How to Hunt Elk Solo in the Backcountry: What Happens When You Pull a Last-Minute Tag (Part 1)
It was a last-minute decision, driven mostly from an insatiable drive to challenge my skills as a backcountry hunter and athlete. I mean, this is “my why”, and I train my body year-round to be physically prepared for when these opportunities are presented to me. Not just ready to hunt, but more physically and mentally prepared for anything life throws at me. The sport of life doesn’t end until we leave it.
My friend and elk hunting mentor had tagged out early on a solo archery elk hunt in his home state of CO. Although we live over 2000 miles apart, it’s rare that he goes into the woods without sending me a pin of where he will be and some updates on what he’s getting into. It’s not just about staying safe and sharing your location with those back home, but rather so that I can live vicariously through the hunt while back here in northern VT.
This trip was no different. I had not planned to hunt the west this season as I was short-staffed at the gym and it was too much for me to “responsibly” get away. So I sat eagerly by my phone waiting for InReach updates and OnX pins of what he was finding in his adventures. In true Kevin fashion, it didn’t take long for the “Bull Down” message to show up. Let’s goo! After that, it was several more days of messaging describing the solo pack out of the backcountry. 3 total trips to get it all done. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for Kevin; he did it almost every year, sometimes several solo packouts of the elk woods in a season. His training, his grit and his drive to succeed as a backcountry hunter made these packouts just another day at the office.
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Days later in a phone conversation describing the hunt, he said to me,
“It’s too bad you’re not out here this year, because you could definitely go back in there and kill a bull…” Thanks a lot, Kev, just rub salt in the wound.
Well, wouldn’t you know, the following week had me sitting on the computer trying for a reissue tag in that unit, because well, I just had to try! And as luck would have it, in the middle of the 2nd week of September, I drew a tag. Let’s goo! Once the thrill of pulling the tag wore off the reality sunk in, and with it that feeling of biting off more than you can chew and then figuring out how to chew it.
Next came the conversation with my wife, a thrill in and of itself that I’m sure many of the readers out there can relate to. The key is to casually intercept her when she’s in the middle of something and has no time for her oldest, most immature child. Trust me, I’m a pro at this, not my first rodeo.
“Ahem, sweetie, do you have a minute? So something happened.” Eyebrow raised, head turns, eye contact incoming. Shit, the eye contact, don’t look her directly in the eyes! Drop your head, look at the floor, show vulnerability, and stumble to spit it all out. She beats me to it. “You’re going elk hunting, aren’t you?” Startled, I responded, “How did you know?!” She shakes her head and continues about her business, muttering something along the lines of, “We’ve been together for how long now? I know that look from a mile away. When are you leaving?” Man, she’s good!
The following week I headed for the airport, boarded a plane, and shipped off, with nothing more to go on than a few waypoints and some good ole piss and vinegar as we like to say. I would be solo on this trip, because my buddy was now chasing bugles in another state. I landed, hopped in my rental jeep, and headed for his house, where I had shipped some gear for my hunt. 5 hours after landing at the airport, I found myself pulling into the same place he parked his truck to hunt 2 weeks prior. Thankfully, nobody else was parked there. I hastily threw together my gear and took off at a gallop up the mountain with a plan to get to a high point to listen and get my bearings for tomorrow's hunt before dark.
It was Wednesday, and I was flying home on Sunday with plans to be back to work on Monday morning. I had no time to spare, and this hunt was going to require me to go all in for the short period of time I was here. But I wasn’t at all concerned about my physical prep. I was always ready to go, whether it be an impromptu elk hunt out west, chasing whitetails in the Northeast, cranking turns on the ski hill, or trying to look good enough to impress my wife.
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Upon reaching the spine of the mountain, the same spine Kevin had hunted weeks prior, I found myself in an old burn that made it look more like being on the moon than elk country. But I could see that there were elk there now, and I gazed down below me into a drainage that spread out into the lowland to my north. North-facing, steep and deep, dark timber. I looked at my maps and could see a waypoint marking a fresh wallow shared from my buddy Kev. When I clicked it, it read “SHITHOLE”. I remembered him saying, he wouldn’t want to shoot one down there, it’s a shit-hole and will be miserable getting a bull out of, especially if you’re alone. Noted. And then I heard it. A bugle. In the shithole. Hahaha.
With thermals starting to drop, I stayed high and snuck along the spine, giving me the ability to switch sides quickly if needed to keep the wind in my favor. Minutes later I caught movement below me and, after some glassing, spotted 2 rag horns and a small 5x5 working along the edge of the green growth 150yds out. All of them are shooters for this opportunistic solo hunter. Let’s goo! I didn’t have much for a set up, so I found the best cover I could and aired out a few soft cow calls hoping to bring these testosterone-driven teens over for a good time. It worked, and they began working towards me. They kind of reminded me of myself in college haha. A few more gentle calls had them at 60 yds, but they knew something wasn’t quite right. It was so open in that burn, and they couldn’t see the cow making those sweet calls so they got nervous and hung up. The whole time this was going on I could hear the herd bull hammering down in that shit hole, likely trying his darndest to keep these little rag horn bastards away from his harem. Rather than push the topic in the first few hours of my hunt and not wanting to blow every elk out of there, I slowly backed up over the spine undetected and worked my way back to camp in the dark. I knew where I would be in the morning, and I needed to get some rest...
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Tune in for Part 2 next week and the conclusion to Coach Guyer’s hunt.
Adrian Guyer CSCS, RSCC, NSCA CPT, USAW2, CSAC is a full time strength and conditioning coach and owner/founder of XIP Training Systems and Ridgeline Athlete. He and his staff have worked with thousands of athletes from almost every conventional sport and also outside the lines in backcountry athletics. Adrian’s passion and success in backcountry hunting allow for an in the trenches approach to designing more effective backcountry training programs that transfer to the demands of backcountry hunting.