If you want to hunt elk in Colorado, there are two ways to go: the rich man’s way and the poor man’s way. Or, as Marshall Matt Dillon used to tell the bad guys in the old TV series Gunsmoke, “You can go easy, or you can go hard. It’s all up to you.”
On our first Colorado elk hunt a few years ago, Diane and I decided to “go easy.” We paid an outfitter to pack us into a high-elevation drop camp (spike tent) with horses and mules. The firewood was all cut. There was plenty of water for drinking and washing. Our campsite was smack dab in the middle of an elk herd.
The first day, our crew bagged an elk a short walk from camp. A few days later, the outfitter came back with horses and mules. We and our elk were transported down the mountain and back to our vehicle at the trail head.
This year, we chose to “go hard,” the poor man’s way. If you’ve long dreamed of a Western elk hunt, but don’t want to pay the big bucks, pay attention. Here’s how to do it, warts and all. I warn you. It isn’t easy.
Hauling a supply trailer with tent and chest freezer, we took three days to drive the 2,400 miles to western Colorado to a national forest. (There are lots of them; take your pick.)
A snowstorm had closed down Route 70 when we reached the Colorado border. But by the next morning, the sky cleared and the roads were open. We arrived at the forest trail head to discouraging news: mud – black, oozy, greasy, Colorado mud. The jeep roads were messy with mud like I had never seen. One would-be elk hunter made it up the forest logging road with chains, but he and his truck had paid the price. We decided to try another hunting place more easily accessible.
The wonderful thing about the national forests is that you may camp just about anywhere without a hassle from forest rangers. We set up camp not far from the White River National Forest. We were a stone’s throw from a trout pond with a spectacular view at 10,000 feet. Elk tracks peppered the roadside in the new fallen snow. We were pumped.
Our first day was set aside for scouting. We learned a lot. For example, it is a long walk to the elk if you hunt steedless and on foot. Now 1.5 miles doesn’t seem far on a GPS, but when you are getting there by climbing steep aspen ridges that start at 10,000 feet above sea level, a half mile is a hike.
After opening day, the elk herds scatter. Reaching the elk that have disbursed into the dark timber means a lot of hard work on foot. Don’t try it unless you are in shape. Burning lungs and blistered feet go with the deal, no matter how well prepared you are physically.
On Day 1, the surefire way to the elk herds is via pack trails. These trails are used by professional outfitters who bring horses and supply mules to drop camps situated in the heart of elk country. Because of the snow melt and horse traffic, the forests pack trails were black, oozy mud wallows that spiraled up into higher elevations. The challenge, when walking up and down these slippery mountain switchbacks, is to stay upright. Falling in black mud can be hard on hunter’s pride and the new Leupold scope.
There are other risks, too. We met an outfitter who was escorting two clients out the woods before the hunt had even started. One had gotten sick from drinking creek water. The other suffered from acute altitude sickness, which is not uncommon, especially for flatlanders not accustomed to exertion in thin air. A daily regimen of aspirin and a lot of water consumption to stave off natural dehydration is a must.
Some do-it-yourself elk hunters that we met had rented horses, which are priced about the same as a rental car. But this can get complicated and unexpectedly expensive. We talked with one group that had packed into elk country with rental horses that perished unexpectedly. Tragically, the horses got tangled up. One died from a broken neck, and the other strangled during the ill-fated lash-up. The dead horses cost each hunter $1,400 in additional charges.
Of all the logistical headaches connected with a low-budget elk hunt, getting 300 pounds of quartered meat out of the mountains is the most daunting of all. If there are no mules to do the heavy lifting, elk removal can be a brutal test of physical endurance and impromptu problem solving. With some luck and help from others, my son and I got our two elk out of the woods. That is a story in itself that is worth telling at another time.
Included on our list, titled “How To Do Things Better Next Time,” would be a better heating system for the tent. It gets bone-chilling cold during October nights in the Colorado mountains. Our propane-fired Buddy Heater and turkey cooker burner helped to make life bearable, but hardly cozy. Next year we will have a tent wood stove.
If you still have a mind to hunt elk after this tale of tribulations, I urge you to follow through. Colorado is a breathtakingly scenic state during early October. Despite the elevations and mud or dust, hunting big game is a first class hunting experience. Of course, to hunt elk, you must first be successful in the annual Colorado elk draw, which is held in April. Find out more by checking onto the Colorado wildlife department’s Web site: www.wildlife.state.co.us.
Oh yes, if you plan to hunt elk without the benefit of a mount or a mule, you might want to start your physical conditioning early. In most instances, ATVs are not permitted in the best elk country.
V. Paul Reynolds is editor of the Northwoods Sporting Journal. He is also a Maine Guide, co-host of a weekly radio program “Maine Outdoors” heard Sundays at 7 p.m. on The Voice of Maine News-Talk Network (WVOM-FM 103.9, WCME-FM 96.7) and former information officer for the Maine Dept. of Fish and Wildlife. His e-mail address is paul@sportingjournal.com.
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