09/23/2026
The timber was quiet until it wasn’t.
We’d hiked two kilometers to a big open pond when Kobe cut the silence with a bugle. Before the echo faded, a bull ripped back from the southeast. Close.
We got tight to the treeline and started working him. Call after call, trying to pull him out of the dark timber and into the open. Then he chuckled. That deep, raspy chuckle that tells you he’s coming.
At 260 yards, he stepped out. Just his head and shoulders at first, hugging the trees like he knew better. He didn’t want to commit. So Kobe got patient. Soft calls. No pressure. Just enough to make him curious.
Yard by yard, he came. 240. 200. Then at 180, he finally turned broadside and stood still.
Haedyn was on him. First shot — high. The bull flinched but didn’t run. He just stared straight at us.
Second round chambered. Breath held. Shot broke.
He took a few heavy steps and fell right there in the open.
First bull elk for Haedyn. Kobe, Austin, and Keltyn right there with him to get hands on him. Freezer full. Memories made.
