Dec 2023. Blues Vol 39 No. 12

RUSTY B
off duty & outdoors
of our most experienced horsemen,
rode back to our area from
the first day to hunt and look for
the lost horse. They hunted hard,
saw plenty of fresh tracks in the
snow, but no elk sighted. However,
to my extreme pleasure,
they did find the horse, or should
I say the horse found them just
before dark as she probably did
not want to spend another cold
night on that mountain.
Day 3, I couldn’t help but notice
that at 4:00 a.m., the moon was
the brightest, fullest moon, I had
ever seen. As a matter of fact,
I witnessed the most beautiful
scene as we continued through
the dark morning ride to our
hunting area. With the full moon
shining bright, the aspens with
frost and snow on the branches
blowing in a slight breeze, the
forest looked like someone had
wrapped all the trees with little
white lights as the trees twinkled.
I had never in my life seen
such a beautiful sight, which I
tried to capture on video, but it
didn’t do it justice. Unfortunately,
the hunt that day was a repeat
of the previous days. Hunt all
day and see lots of sign but no
elk sighted during the hunt. Our
mishap with this day was that
one of the guys left the area at
lunch but it wasn’t clear to the
others, that was the plan. So,
two of us waited an extra hour
after dark on the mountain before
we wrote a message in the
snow and left, only to learn latter
that the person we were waiting
for was already back at the cabin
in front of the fire with a cold
drink in hand.
Day 4, Discouraged, but not
giving up, we all agreed that
despite the full moon working
against us, we would be up on
the mountain at sunrise again.
The morning was beautiful but
again no elk were moving. At
lunch we all met up and were
convinced at this point, the elk
must be moving at night and our
only chance was to hunt the afternoon
and hope right at dark,
they would come out of the dark
timber. I banked on this plan and
decided to come off the fields
I had been hunting and move
down to where the elk come out
of the big evergreens and cross a
creek to enter a ravine that leads
to the fields. Well about an hour
before dark, I heard what sounded
like a cattle stampede coming
from behind me. It was a small
herd of cow elk, all running at
full speed from the fields high
above me and down the hillside,
crossed the creek, and ran into
the heavy stand of evergreens
I was hunting. I learned later,
someone else in our group was
hunting the field above me and
this small group of cows got
close enough to him to catch his
scent and they took off for safety
across the field. That was the
only elk I saw during the entire
trip.
So, while my dreams of taking
a big bull elk didn’t materialize
this season, the magic of hunting
the mountains of Colorado did
not disappoint. I cannot express
in words, nor pictures, what
these trips mean to someone like
me who loves the outdoors, and
168 The Blues 40th Anniversary Issue