I have to say, hunting at Buffalo Mountain Ranch was the highlight of the year.  Who would thought that I would have traveled all the way to Texas from Colorado to harvest an Elk.  Even before I set foot on the ranch I was treated like royalty…and it just kept getting better.  The accommodations were unbelievable – heated room – clean sheets – comfortable bed.  Pleasant, down-home good-ol’-boy hospitality (thanks Chad) and a few home cooked meals (thanks Heather).  When I arrived, it was dark, so I didn’t get to see much of the ranch the first night.  Jay and Chad helped me sight in my bow so I would be ready first thing in the morning.  

Early the next morning Jay introduced me to Rick who took me to my first site.  He gave me a crucial tip concerning harvesting a doe with a bow .  If I had only remembered to take that advice an hour later I might have been fortunate enough to bring home one of the two doe I saw that morning.  But alas, it was only after I heard the broadhead glance off what sounded like gravel that his advice to “Aim a little low” came to mind.  Needless to say, they were long gone before that thought finished going through my head.  The doe have such quick reflexes, if they hear the string of the bow, they will actually crouch down in order to spring forward and run.

Later that same evening I was ready for those low crouching doe.  As I sat comfortably in a tent blind, I used a “distance finder” that Jay had loaned me earlier.  From where I was sitting the feeder was exactly thirty yards away.  It wasn’t long before a group of about seven doe came out of the woods.  They milled around and played, running back and forth. Finally, one of them stood completely broadside to me.  She was just on the other side of the feeder.  I planned it all out…thirty yards…aim just a tad low for the crouch…and ziiiip.  Missed again?  No way. It must have gone through her.  She and all her friends were gone in a flash. By the time Jay and Rick showed up, I had searched all over for signs of blood, hair and my arrow.  It wasn’t until Rick began searching that the mystery was solved.  With just the light of a full moon and a small flashlight, Rich was able to make out the signs of where the doe initiated her leap, and sure enough, there on the ground was a small tuft of hair that my arrow shaved off her belly…nearly five yards farther than I thought she had been standing (and about eight yards from the face of the feeder on which I had measured a distance).  I under anticipated her distance and shot too short.

The next morning I was up in a tree.  From my vantage point there were two really clear openings between the branches of the tree.  After about an hour and a half I saw this magnificent buck.  He had an incredible rack and no ear tags.  There he was, standing motionless and broadside to me.  Determined not to make the same mistake twice, I eased the “distance finder” to my eye to get his exact distance.  There were no branches in the way; there was absolutely nothing between me and that trophy buck…except two-hundred and forty yards.  After we stared at each other for half an hour he wondered off into the woods.

Later that evening Jay drove me out to where I saw the two doe the morning before.  I don’t believe I was there for more than twenty minutes when I heard what sounded like a boy scout troop heading my way.  Then, into the clearing came three cow elk.  They headed straight for the feeder.  Two of them began shoving each other.  I’m not sure if it was a dominance thing or if they were just pushing each other away from the corn on the ground.  Whatever the reason, it was creating just the diversion of noise and dust flying in the air I needed to sight in the third cow who was standing virtually broadside to me and exactly thirty yards.  Her head was twisted just far enough to the left that she could not see me at all.  Then, almost as if on cue, she eased her right leg forward exposing the textbook perfect position for placing the arrow painlessly in her heart.  In a flash, my arrow was protruding from that very spot.  She ran about twenty-five yards and then fell over; never even leaving my sight.   My heart was racing as I remembered the other fine piece of advice Rick gave me.  ”Wait about half an hour before you track your animal.”  If they are wounded, and you approach them too soon, their adrenaline will allow them to run for miles…if not days.  I actually began counting…one…two…three…

Ok, so I’m a greenhorn.  I stopped before I got to a minute.

Shortly before I had determined to leave my blind to field dress my kill, I heard a ruckus coming from the direction the other two cows had run.  Out of the woods came those two cows with about seven others.  They all gathered around the feeder.  Then, the biggest bull elk that I had ever seen came out of the woods.  Oh, my goodness, I wished I had had a camera.  He cautiously approached the feeder.  I just sighed, “Maybe someday, but not today.”  The cow is more than enough for my freezer and my ego.  What a blessing!

Just as an aside, I saw trophy game every day I was there and I saw either bucks, bulls, cows or doe every time I went into the field to hunt.

I’m forty-nine years old and this cow was the very first game animal that I had ever shot – and it was with a bow and arrow.  Thank you Jay, Rick and Chad for an unforgettable experience.

Craig Pearce

Aurora, Colorado