In the course of my guiding career I have experienced a fair
share of anxiety, apprehension, and angst on the eve of opening
day. But as my son Mark and I stood in the Phoenix airport
awaiting the arrival of our new elk hunter David McShaw and his
parents David Sr. and Karen, my nervous system was ablaze with
self doubt. You see, David (13 years old) is stricken with
muscular dystrophy and is wheelchair bound. As the reality of
his limitations sank in, my confidence eroded and it struck me
just how much I wanted this hunt to be a "hunt of a lifetime."
After a brief prayer I spotted the McShaw family
enthusiastically working their way toward our direction and our
date with destiny officially began.
The
events that brought us to this day started just months earlier
when my good friend and outfitter Chad Smith, of Vaquero
Outfitters, and I were discussing the upcoming seasons. Chad
mentioned that one of his clients had drawn an Arizona bull elk
tag but due to some unforeseen circumstances would not be able
hunt this year. Chad asked if there was any way to donate this
tag and avoid wasting it. Coincidentally (I think not!), just a
few weeks earlier I had been asked by Terry Petko to be a part
of the Arizona chapter of Hunt of a Lifetime, an organization
dedicated to organizing hunts for terminally ill children. A
quick call to Terry got the ball rolling. Meanwhile, in a small
town in eastern Pennsylvania, the McShaws had been in contact
with Hunt Of A Lifetime headquarters. They were notified as soon
as the Arizona elk hunt became available. Though David had never
seen an elk, he jumped at the dream of hearing the bugle of a
rutting bull.
After navigating the chaos of the busy airport, David and his
family followed Mark and me north out of the metropolitan
commotion. Since the Savage Arms 30/06 had only arrived a few
days before the hunt we needed to stop at the rifle range for a
last minute tune-up. With less than 10 rounds the rifle was
sighted in and fired a one inch three shot group! After all of
our equipment checks were done it was time to head to the home
of Chad and Shawn Smith.
As a novice elk hunter it can be very difficult to maintain a sense
of perspective as you enter the Smith's home. Shawn's 2005 bull
mount looms over the living room displaying over 400 inches of
antler, and gargantuan shed antlers decorate the plant shelves
and patio. Huge mule deer, Coues deer and antelope mounts added
even more spice to the McShaw's first day west of the
Mississippi. As Shawn served the first of the many gourmet
meals, you could see on everyone's face that the fatigue of a
challenging day was taking its toll.
Chad was born and raised in the Prescott area. His folks still live
on the same ranch where he grew up. Chad and Shawn know most of
the ranchers in this area and has access to many acres of
private land. Before we arrived he had contacted most of them
about our hunt, and without fail or a dollar changing hands,
every gate onto private ground was opened to us. As the dawn
chased the night from the eastern sky of opening day we were
listening for the distant bugles on the Las Vegas Ranch.
We still did not know how we were going to get David, his wheel
chair, and his shooting device with 12 volt battery in place for
a shot when a very aggressive sounding bull chimed in at less
than 400 yards. We made decisions fast. Chad carried David on
his back, David Sr. grabbed the wheel chair, Mark and I split up
the shooting system, Karen carried the rifle, and we blitzed
down the draw to get in front of the moving bull. We clanged and
banged metal on metal but eventually got David set up and
pointed in the most likely direction. Chad backed off to lure
the bull past our position. The bull immediately answered Chad's
invitation. Could this be happening? The sun isn't shining yet
and we have a bull coming in like in a Primos video? As Karen
ran the camera, the six point bull stepped out directly in front
of us at 35 yards and stopped absolutely broadside.
The rifle rest that we used has motors for left/right and up/down
motions which are controlled by the shooter with a toggle lever
much like a video game controller. A large steel plate, which we
affectionately referred to as "the gong" due to the sound it
produced when in came into contact with anything, went
underneath the seat pad on the wheel chair. After we got David
into the chair we would then attach the rest to the steel plate
and connect the wires from the battery to the motors. With time
we knew we could develop an efficient system, but it wasn't
pretty on our first run!
The first bull elk was now staring at us from spitting distance. I
could see that the rifle was pointed behind the bull so I
whispered to David to move the rifle to right, but his hands
never moved. I reached over and lifted the ear muffs and
whispered the same line one more time and then another, but
David was frozen solid. The adrenaline and shock at having this
huge animal so close was just overwhelming his decision making.
I reached around him and manipulated the toggle myself, but as
the motor ground into action the bull bolted. We all sat in
silence of disbelief. The bull was just too close and too soon
and we had not had enough practice runs to get the job done. No
one was discouraged, it was only the first morning and we now
had a learning experience that we could build upon.
That evening we watched a water tank on Chad's family ranch. His
dad had seen a bull drink at this source just the night before
but he did not show up for a repeat performance which would
prove to be a common problem. Arizona was blessed with much
needed rain during the late summer and fall. Green feed and
abundant water is great if you are an elk, but it created
problems for our team. Typically elk will feed most of the
morning and at the end of a warm day they will head to a water
hole with regularity. With a well constructed blind we could be
set up well before the elk arrived, and as an added bonus, there
is a road leading to every dirt tank in the Southwest! But with
water standing in every drainage, the elk were not married to
any particular pattern. Since the elk were not likely to come to
us, we needed to be more efficient in getting to them.
Chad hit a home run with the very first suggestion. By removing the
pack from a Cabela's Alaskan Freighter frame and using the shelf
as a seat, David could sit facing forward and see over Chad's
shoulders. We could not change the fact that David still weighed
85 lbs, but at least he and Chad were more comfortable. The
Eberlestock "Just One" pack continued to live up to its name as
we cinched up the rifle rest with its outer straps. We would
have to take turns carrying the wheel chair on our shoulders but
at least we were mobile. To this day, I berate myself for not
getting a picture of our human "pack string", but once we
saddled up it was to get moving.
With our new system in place we headed to the famous ORO ranch on
the second morning. This incredible territory is the largest
piece of private land in Arizona and home to some great bulls.
As the sky turned from black to grey a bugle of multiple bulls
warmed our spirits on this frosty morning. We were able to walk
on a good road so David Sr. pushed his son on the wheel chair.
Soon the elk and the road parted ways so we put our new system
into action. With David riding more comfortably on Chad's back
we moved as quickly as possible through the volcanic rock and
junipers toward the always moving elk. We were gaining on them!
They slowed a bit as they approached their bedding grounds
giving us a chance to close the gap even further. Unfortunately
they chose a good place for a mid day nap, plenty of cover and
the wind in their favor. We tried multiple times to call one of
these bulls back to us but we just could not lure them away from
their herd.
After an uneventful evening at a water hole, we headed back to the
house for some good home cooked Mexican food and a much needed
night of sleep. As I lay in bed my mind was racing with
potential scenarios we might face. I was having a hard time even
visualizing success, since the elk were no longer making any
mistakes. Luck has a role in every successful hunt but we needed
more than just luck, we needed help! I am not talking about
human help; we needed assistance that goes beyond explanation.
Revelry was at 3:30 a.m. on the third day. We all crawled out of
bed and injected some coffee with a heightened degree of
necessity. As we made our way though the gates of the K4 ranch
Chad revealed the plan for our morning hunt. Mark and I were to
climb a steep hill overlooking a large valley as he and the
McShaw's would ease their way toward a likely travel route. We
were hoping to find the good bull Chad had seen when he was
scouting that he estimated would score about 340". Nothing was
going quite right, and then Mark called me back to his position.
With a smile on his face and with complete confidence, he said
"I found the 340 bull." Mark has seen a fair number of big bulls
for a 13 year old, but that was a bold statement! As I peered
into the spotting scope there stood a textbook example of a 340"
bull. It was late morning by now and the bull bedded out of
sight. He had about a dozen cows and three satellite bulls
surrounding him in habitat that was more appropriate for
antelope than elk, so we decided to hold off until the evening.
Mark and I headed into Prescott to have lunch with my wife Carla
and daughter Courtney who had driven up from Phoenix for a quick
visit and shopping excursion. As we recounted the events of the
previous days I flogged myself for not handling our opening day
encounter more effectively. Carla reminded me that everything
happens for a reason, and that we just needed to be keep it fun
and keep hunting. With a good pep talk and a re-fueling stop at
Starbucks we were fired up for the evening hunt.
Chad, David Sr., Mark and I climbed back up the hill to verify that
our morning bull had not vacated the territory. He was still
there with all his friends feeding in the wide open terrain. We
decided that Mark should stay on the hill and serve as our "eye
in the sky" while the rest of us attempted a stalk. We had no
grand plan about how to make this stalk work but we decided to
get as close as we could and see what might happen.
When we got down on the same level as the elk we realized that was
a little more texture in the terrain than we thought, allowing
us to move quickly. Within 20 minutes we were about 400 yards
from the elk, but we were completely out of cover and if we
moved closer would surely be seen by one of the many sets of
eyes. We were running out of options so we tried to call the
bull to us even though we knew the odds were against him leaving
his harem. We got David all set with the rifle rest pointed in a
likely direction. To our disappointment we could not even get
the bull to look in our direction, but the cows were all ears!
This was not the kind of attention we were hoping for.
Hoping the elk might reverse their morning route we tore everything
down, repacked and moved about 300 yards to a good sniping
position. We felt that our effective shooting range was about
100 yards so we needed to be very precise as to where we set up.
Once in place Chad peeked around the hill, turned back to us and
said "We gotta move again, they are heading toward our last set
up." With reckless abandon we moved our team back.
As David Sr. strapped the rifle into the rest Chad whispered "Guys,
we need to hurry…the bull is right there." As all four adults
tried to hide behind the wheelchair the lead cow materialized
less than 60 yards away. Looking our direction she high stepped
anxiously to the right. As she did, the swaying antler tips of
the big bull got longer and longer as he closed the gap between
us. We could only hope that he would follow the lead of the cow,
as she now stood perfectly broadside with her body completely
exposed. The bull eased his way toward the cow silhouetted by
the setting sun, stopping to amp up our adrenaline rush with a
challenging scream. With the lower half of his torso concealed
by a grassy mound we could only hold our breath and try not to
move. Time stood still and so did the bull. Finally as if on
queue the bull took three steps forward and as Chad cow called,
the bull stopped right on his mark. With a few minor rest
adjustments and some encouragement, David pulled the trigger.
The bull staggered at the shot and covered about 50 yards before
piling up in a cloud of dust.
I will never be able to accurately describe the emotions that
followed, the scene was a collage of tears, laughter, screams,
high fives, hugs and thanks. As I recall other similar events in
my life, I realized that they have all been characterized by two
things- the feeling that there was a hand greater than my own at
work, and the knowledge that I was changed in the process. Had
we taken a bull the first morning, we would not have been able
to experience the teamwork, anticipation, and even fatigue that
made this experience such a powerful one for all of us. Hunt Of
A Lifetime is aptly named: this was a hunt of all our lifetimes,
I am sure.
Thank You
There may only be a few of us pictured with David and his bull but
there are dozens of people who contributed in their own way.
Chad literally had a dozen hunters "on call" if we needed them.
We would especially like to thank the managers and owners of the Las
Vegas Ranch, Baca Float ORO Ranch, and the K4 Ranch. Each of
them enthusiastically opened their gates and welcomed our group.
The folks at Perkinsville Meats in Chino Valley donated all of the
processing and shipping of the meat.
If you would like to learn more about the Hunt of a Lifetime
program please visit their website at Hunt Of A Lifetime.org .
For more information about the Arizona chapter go to
www.hoalarizona.org.
Conclusion to Divine Intervention
It would be a shame to come all the way to Arizona and not see some
of the sights! Because David finished his hunt on the third day
the McShaw family had some time to take in the sights and put
the final touches on their adventure. They spent a night in
historic Williams, AZ and the next day they visited the Grand
Canyon. Overwhelmed by the magnitude of the canyon, they spent
the night in Flagstaff and went back again the next day! They
also visited the Out of Africa Wildlife Park for an up close
look at African lions, giraffes, zebras and more.
In the course of my guiding career I have experienced a fair
share of anxiety, apprehension, and angst on the eve of opening
day. But as my son Mark and I stood in the Phoenix airport
awaiting the arrival of our new elk hunter David McShaw and his
parents David Sr. and Karen, my nervous system was ablaze with
self doubt. You see, David (13 years old) is stricken with
muscular dystrophy and is wheelchair bound. As the reality of
his limitations sank in, my confidence eroded and it struck me
just how much I wanted this hunt to be a "hunt of a lifetime."
After a brief prayer I spotted the McShaw family
enthusiastically working their way toward our direction and our
date with destiny officially began.
