Calling Elk or Mounain Lions?

"Figured it was time to share this one, hope you enjoy!

Day 3 (afternoon) Raton, NM - September 12th, 2024

Hot and Windy afternoon for September - not just a little warm for this time of year but almost 90, wind whipping around 20-22mphs, not exactly ideal for the afternoon scouting session on an elk hunt. Nonetheless, away we go! We're in a 4 man group and all are experienced hunters so we glass and move, glass and move and glass and move.

Between the temp and the wind, there's nothing moving, no communication at all this afternoon. We are trying to stay positive, focused, not resign to the idea of nature winning the day. We've settled into a Western face hoping to get an opportunity to give chase to something, just get a stalk in, some sign that all elk life hasn't disappeared into the evening, so we wait...and wait...and wait.

Across the ridge we are spread out over about 100-150 yards between us, sectioning off the valleys and drainages to the west looking for some activity and finally we see a bull working down towards the canyon. Its after 6pm at this point, but as a collective we decide to give chase and see what happens. We make that decision pretty quickly because there's about a 3 mile gap we have to close and the clock is ticking. We make our way into the canyon that has a well travelled slate path through it, bugling along the way to check the temperature of the bull we are pursuing and continue to engage him as we are closing the distance.

Once we reach our pinch point, we turn up the calling! Calf call - response - bugle - response - challenge - comes back over the top! We are a go! We decide to keep the conversation moving and set a caller behind and uphill from where the path runs and split two hunters - one to the high side of the road and one to the low side down the path. Both options are viable but limited by the landscape. I take the high side of the path - located about 20 yards higher up and about 30-40 yards closer to the head of the trail. The other shooter stays to the path behind and tucks back into the trees off the path.

The volley of bugles has now turned into a beautiful song. The force behind each response grows in intensity and more importantly, proximity! Instincts start to take over, getting yardages, checking wind direction, confirming shooting windows - just the details you practice - but I notice a silhouette lurching off into the canyon to my left. Nothing of note, but the thought of the coyotes we've been hearing over the last few days crosses my mind and quickly retreats as I turn back to the top of the road to see the bull we have been chasing! Not in full but from just above his ears to his tips. Our efforts are not wasted, its a shooter bull and he is within bow range. From where I'm tucked in behind the junipers to the top of the path is about 65 yards to my 11 o'clock. Visible to the eye but not passable for an arrow. The calling continues but there is a small window at about 50 yards to my shot off, anything else will be the lower shooter cleared 40 and in.

As the bull mills around the top of the path, I continue to check back to my right, a small swell sits behind the path and leads towards a watering hole to my 3 o'clock. Surrounded by cedars and willows from the water the only real shot would be forward but would require some maneuvering forward. I take note and continue to check yardages. As I turn back to the potential shot up the path, I notice the return of the silhouette. My frustration mounts knowing that after 3 days of good encounters, close calls and good wind that one coyote may turn what is an opportunity into a train wreck. I watch the creature climb the embankment I'm on about 8-10 yards away and start to press through and now I have to make a decision, startle the animal or see if it will move on without me engaging it.

Day 1, 2 & 3(morning) were filled with great encounters! First morning out we don't even reach the glassing point and start to hear bugles! Immediately in the middle of a chase that ends up taking us about 4 or 5 miles into the hunt. Each time we go out, we are met with the same level of interest, pursuit and distance. Physically we are prepared but there's always a "WTF moment" coming from sea level to hunt in altitude. You know its coming and it will catch up with you and so you deal with it and move on. After the morning of Day 3, we talked about getting lighter in our packs. What does that look like? Half tanks of water, drop our rain gear, no spotting scope, the idea was to shed every ounce we could and the one thing that was obvious was our side arms. We knew the landscape, we had covered 30+ miles up to this point and hadn't crossed a snake or bear or any other predatory animal, so the weight was coming off and this would make us substantially lighter; faster!

As I watch the shadow continue to creep up the side of the hill, I realize that its engaged in its own hunt. Using a cow call, mixing in a calf call here and there may as well be a dinner bell for the mountain's predatory species. The shadow gets closer to the opening and as it does the size of it seems dramatically different than a coyote. Being from South Texas, the idea of feral hog creeps into my head, but with the last two quiet and well positioned strides the shadow reveals itself and it is NOT what I expected.

Immediately coming to full draw I realize that a full grown mountain lion, not 8-10 yards in front of me, has no idea that I am there. It is fully engaged in a hunt of its own and has not taken into account that there would be anything in its way. The stealth and focus it displayed was something I couldn't imagine unless I was having the front row seat to it. Its calculating movements were the thing that as a hunter you strive for, but what now?!

With this beautiful killing machine in front of me and the bull behind me, the window for making this decision is coming to head very quickly. At full draw, the cat creeps forward once again towards its prey fully exposing itself. DECIDE! I keep telling myself, decide now! At this moment, I'm uniquely aware of how stupid wanting to go "lighter & faster" is. Filled with enough adrenaline and fear to power a rocket, the mountain lion notices I'm there. Eyes locked on each other, both trying to make what may be life or death decisions, I whisper, as if talking to a friend, "I know you have a purpose, but if you
move in my direction I will shoot you. I don't want to, you are not my goal, I am not yours. Can we call this a draw and simply go different directions?"

ROARING BUGLE!!! Mountain lion and hunter still locked eyes! Again I tell it, "I understand, but this is not what I want." The staring continues and I can hear the bull within shooting range now. The lion lowers its head, turns over its right shoulder away from me and returns down the side of the canyon from which it came. Why? What just happened? I try to send a text to the other hunter that simply says "MOUNTAIN LION!" but the red exclamation point lets me know that it may be a longer evening than I expected.

We are now at the tail end of daylight, if not past 7pm right at it, the bull has decided that water and a cedar tree are going to be the path he will take. At 45 yards my shot is blocked by willows and brush and I have to ease up the path on my stomach to get to a point where I can shoot. Up the path about 20 yards there is an opening, slight but one that provides a window, just small enough for the opportunity to shoot. I creep forward and at 18 yards witness what raw, pure force looks like. A bull elk, refreshed by the sip of water its taken, is destroying a cedar tree. Not a small, young cedar, but an established tree. Rooted into the mountain after years of surviving harsh conditions. It is not more, scraped to the bone by the bull. His head is away from me, I hook my release to the D-Loop like I have 1000 times before simultaneously drawing and coming to a knee to put a pin on him and as I settle, the bull lifts up and over the ridge to settle down in the swell behind the path.

DEFEATED! Sulking, rattled, adrenaline deflated, emotionally drained and opportunity missed. Lonely cow calls, still intermittent behind me but to no response. I retreat to the meeting place from which I came, hoping the mountain lion has held up their end of our bargain and notice that the light has faded. Past 7pm and light dwindling in the canyon, we are for sure out of time. I take a breath, hear a cow call and ONE LAST BEAUTIFUL BUGLE!

He's returned over the swell, off the path, to feed into the setting sun and has presented, quartered slightly in. I can see his kill zone, the wind is in my favor, and another bugle! No time for yardages or pep talks, I know this distance, I know the routine of shooting, I know to follow the arrow, now execute.

Light on sight turned on, release to D-Loop, draw, anchor, breathe, somethings off...re-anchor (better), target, pin on target, breath, release and hold! I can see blood spray on contact! After the release, I watch him move off his spot, its not a run, its not a walk, but its hit and hurt! I find myself still in the release position minutes later, frozen in time, playing back the emotions of what just happened, all of them!

As we make our way to the contact point, I know I've done my part. The spray I saw when we walked up is there. One lung for sure, the arrow will tell the rest of the story. We turn to follow it out, a drop of blood at 5 yards, a drop of blood at 10 yards...we've all been here. This is the moment that you dread most, and to make matters worse a third of an arrow is handed to me. 150 wide broadhead, impact collar, hit insert all in tact, clean cut it appears but where is the rest of the arrow? We re-trace our steps back to contact, 41 yard shot (accurate yardage), start again. 15 yards - 2 drops, 20 yards - 3 drops and now the rest of the arrow. From breaking point to nock - fire engine red, dripping with success! Relief sets in. All the hours, all the arrows, and I know that I've taken a lethal shot. That my decision to shoot Iron Will Broadheads was a great investment.

We continue 5 yards up the road and blood is no longer needed to be something we search for, its the guide. Sprays and pools are starting to become easier to see. At this point, we are in a line of 3 caller up front, second shooter - who also had a face to face
encounter with the mountain lion in the middle, and me in the back. Partly absorbing the entire moment as best as possible, quietly thinking the worst. At this point, I tell the other to stop, to catch their breath and to follow my flashlight. Why, they asked?

Because I got to say the two greatest words, BULL DOWN! Folded just off the path that brought him into the call, towards the cedar, the mountain lion to my lap, BULL DOWN!

We celebrated and rejoiced and could hear echoes of the spotter above doing the same! We confirmed its expired and continued to celebrate. Share the story of the mountain lion encounters we both had as hunters, laugh at the caller and his disgust for neither of us taking the chance to eliminate it. We proceed to do what we have to get out of the canyon as fast as we can with the animal in tow.

Our success as hunters is often measured in bone or mounts, its defined by our equipment and determined by our effort, but the drive for it is born out of the experience and the memories it provides. Its been a year since my time on the mountain and a week before the next pursuit begins again. And yes, I'm after the success, as the outside world defines, I'm prepared as is required, but I am excited for the bond that it will bring."

— Joe Holloway