Because I have reached a point in my hunting life where antlers have become of secondary importance, a quality hunt at an affordable price is more important to me. Cow elk hunts meet that criteria as they run a fraction of the price of a bull elk hunt, licenses are readily attainable at a reasonable price, the challenge is comparable, and the meat is superior. In recent years I have drawn three Wyoming cow elk tags on my first attempts without preference points.

Partner Mike Hall of Huron and I hunted Wyoming cow elk on November 15-17 with Academy Ridge Ranch of Dubois, Wyoming. The ranch is owned and operated by Traci and Joe Hargrave. Phone them at 307-851-3649 or email them at tracimcclintic@gmail.com. I couldn’t recommend them more highly.

On Saturday, November 13th, Mike and I rendezvoused at the Plankinton I-90 Coffee Cup at 7:00 A.M. where I parked my pickup and continued our journey in Mike’s truck. We took I-90 to Gillette, went south to Riverton by way of Casper, and west on to Dubois. Between Riverton and Dubois, mule deer were in constant view. We arrived at the ranch in the early evening, renewed acquaintances, met fellow hunter Jerry along with Mike’s guide Jeremy, and enjoyed a supper of linguini and rich tomato sauce before retiring. Our accommodations left nothing to be desired, and Chef Traci’s meals were superb.

Sunday afternoon Joe accompanied us to the Dubois rifle range where we checked our rifles after a hundred pronghorn antelope cleared the range. During Sunday night’s gourmet supper of Swedish meatballs, I mentioned to Joe that I had the patience to attentively sit at a good stand all day if necessary. I believe that this played into Joe’s guiding plans. We knew that the elk were wary as they had been hunted, and that fair weather and lack of snow had not pushed the elk to lower elevations.

On Monday morning Mike and I rose and dressed at 3:45 A.M. Prior to breakfast, we fixed our own “brown bag” lunches with cold cuts, cheese, and bread that had been set out by Staci. Meanwhile, Joe saddled and loaded four horses into his livestock trailer for the 20-25 mile trip to our hunting area in Wyoming’s Absaroka Mountains on the Shoshone National Forest. We would hunt beneath the 12,000 foot Mount Ramshorn.

Without Joe’s patience, assistance, and caring, I could not have made this hunt as the peripheral neuropathy in my legs was a serious handicap. I couldn’t mount my horse without a stepstool! My horse, Bleu, was awesome. With reins in hand, the slightest roll of my wrist turned him right or left. It was akin to power steering. Mike and Jeremy went their separate way as I followed Joe’s lead. At first light, we eventually came to a meadow where we dismounted. I was to sit and watch for elk activity as Joe scouted ahead.

Joe returned in about an hour and told me of a promising meadow or park ahead, but that it would require a very difficult climb on my part with its many deadfalls, treacherous descents, and steep inclines. Did I want to attempt it? I would give it my best shot. We were at 8500 feet, and frequent stops were necessary to get my breath. Fortunately for me, there were numerous trees to lean on and grip for balance. After negotiating the 700 yard obstacle course I named the “death march,” we came to a meadow of lush grass punctuated by occasional pines. I was totally exhausted.

I sat against a pine on the southeast corner of the meadow 150 yards in width and 300 yards in length with a mild wind in my face – a perfect situation. An aspen grove covered the entire north edge of the meadow. I was well concealed as pine boughs offered shade and concealment, and I would man this post for the entire day. I felt nauseous for a while, but recovered enough to enjoy lunch hours later. With my .30-06 bolt-action carbine cradled in my Bog-Pod tripod, I kept a vigilant watch over the meadow.

After an hour or two, Joe removed a saw from his backpack and took off. I correctly guessed that he was going to clear a trail and go after the horses. They would be needed to pack out an elk if I scored, and I really didn’t know whether I had the energy to make the climb back to the horses. You’ll read the conclusion next week.

I’ve heard glowing reports of the perch and bluegill fishing in Lake Wilmarth northwest of Mitchell. Keep this in mind for ice fishing. See you next week.