Appreciate the elk-hunting experience regardless of success

HUNTING — Considering that fewer than 15 percent of hunters fill their elk tags each year, I’ve always noted that hunters are the ultimate nature watchers considering all the time they put in sitting, looking, listening and appreciating their surroundings.

Brett French, outdoor writer for the Billings Gazette, had an experience late last season that reminded him, too, that hunting is not always about filling a tag:

I had just spooked a group of whitetail does when I heard the clacking sound from atop the ridge. My first thought was that two buck deer were sparring, their antlers clattering together.

With the wind in my face, I quickly walked across the clear-cut while imagining that I’d see two deer with their antlers locked and too busy to notice me approaching. It would be a crazy way to fill my deer tag. A long day of hunting without seeing much was about to turn in my favor.

Yet along the way, my nose picked up the distinct scent of musky elk. My brain told my nose it must be confused, after all, the whiff was quickly gone.

My brain should have listened to my nose, because as I topped a small rise what I saw instead of two buck deer locked in battle was three five-point bull elk shining their antlers and rubbing their foreheads on a thick patch of small aspen trees.

Naturally, this was in a cow-only area where only a special bull permit — which I wasn’t in possession of — would allow a hunter to take an antlered elk. It was still an incredible scene to watch, so I slowly sat down about 55 yards away and carefully took out my camera to shoot some photos and video.

I wasn’t aware that elk would still be rubbing their antlers so long after the mating season — this was in early November, far past the bugling days of late September.

I strained to see the elk through the thick aspen, at first only picking out one before the other two moved enough that I could identify them. They were all fairly close together, bachelor buddies at an aspen bar gathering.

It wasn’t too long until the wind swirled and one of the bulls moved cautiously away, unsure of where my scent had come from. The other two soon followed. But one was gracious enough to step out of the forest about 70 yards away broadside and walk across an opening so I could shoot some video.

I didn’t fill my deer tag that day — still haven’t — but the incident was a great reminder of how hunting is about so much more than just filling a tag. It’s also a way to immerse yourself quietly in nature and study everything from a bachelor group of bull elk to the way the sun plays across the mountains in the golden light of a sunrise.