This whole experience started the day I received an
interesting package in the mail addressed to me from the
Hunt of a Lifetime Foundation (HOAL). Inside the
envelope were four hats and a letter briefly telling me
about HOAL. This package stimulated my curiosity, but I
really did not give much thought to it since my dad has
a waterfowl hunting club and, at the time, I thought the
letter was intended for him. It wasn’t until my mom came
home and saw the package then told me that I needed to
call my dad to ask about this curious package. Confused,
I called my dad right away and he explained to me that I
was going to be receiving a dream hunt from HOAL. HOAL
is a non-profit Foundation that provides dream hunts to
kids 21 years of age and under that have terminal or
life threatening illnesses. I was in complete shock! Who
me, going on a dream hunt, anywhere I choose? WOW! I
asked my dad where I would be hunting and he reminded me
of the day that he asked me the question, “if you could
go on any hunt what would it be?” I immediately
responded, “A pack-in, muzzleloading, bull elk rut hunt
in Montana!” Well, that is exactly what he had requested
in the application to HOAL. At the time, neither of us
realized that Montana did not have a muzzleloading rut
hunt like we have here in Colorado. So, HOAL was working
to make arrangements to send me on an early rifle rut
hunt in Montana where I could still use a muzzleloader.
Then came one of several set backs, the state of Montana
would not provide a license to HOAL for my hunt. The
Montana outfitter that we were working with, Randy Parks
of Centennial Trail Outfitters, also had an outfitters
license for Idaho and decided that he would guide me in
the Idaho panhandle during the late muzzleloader elk
season, which was just fine with me.
Meanwhile, I had been receiving hunting gear from
Cabela’s and a muzzleloader and accessories from CVA
through Chad Schearer, whom I had met at the Sportsman’s
Exposition in Denver. I was diligently shooting my
muzzleloader to get comfortable with my rifle when yet
another set back occurred. A week before my dad and I
were scheduled to fly to Idaho we received a call from
Mr. Parks who indicated that Idaho had received another
major snow storm in the area that I was to hunt. The
snow accumulation had effectively ended the outfitter’s
hunting season since all of the elk had already moved to
lower elevations in their winter range. Mr. Parks
apologized and said I would have to wait until the next
fall to go on my dream hunt. Boy was I ever
disappointed! Yet, all the while I kept positive telling
myself that things always happen for a reason, as I have
learned from the challenges of my illness.
My dad had contacted Tina Pattison, the president and
co-founder of HOAL, and explained to her what had
happened. Within the next two days Ms. Pattison put us
in contact with HOAL’s Arizona ambassador, Terry Petko,
who had received a donated license for a late season
rifle bull elk hunt in Unit 7E. Mr. Petko had contacted
Lance Crowther of Timberland Outfitters who agreed to
outfit my hunt.
Thursday the 17th of November came quickly and my dad
and I were off to hunt the big bulls of Arizona. That
evening, after driving two hours north of Phoenix, I met
outfitter Lance Crowther and his family including
guides, PJ and Jake, who would help me on my hunt. I had
a sleepless night full of anticipation of what was to
come that next day.
When 3:30 am of opening morning finally arrived my dad
and I, plus four other hunters were taken by Timberland
Outfitters to hunt an area where they had spotted
numerous quality bulls during their pre-season scouting
trips. At first light one group of spotters located an
outstanding 6x6 bull feeding partially up the hill near
where my guide PJ and I were positioned. PJ and I
attempted to stalk in closer for a shot at this
magnificent bull. The big bull ended up spooking and ran
right toward one of the other guided hunters in our
group who harvested him, his first elk. We later scored
the bull at 289 gross Boone & Crocket points. According
to my dad and the other spotters, PJ and I had stalked
within 150 yards of the bull, but due to the thick
cedars and junipers we were unable to spot him for a
shot before he spooked.
The remainder of that day and the next full day were
somewhat uneventful with only a few cows being sighted
so we decided to hunt another area the next morning. As
we were driving into the new area, the third morning of
the hunt, we spotted a very respectable bull. We got out
of our vehicle and moved closer so we could use the
barbed-wire fence and posts for a rest. I took four
shots, ranged at 500 yards, and was unable to hit the
big bull. I was bewildered by the fact that I was unable
to make the shot since the previous year I had
successfully downed my cow elk with one shot at 425
yards. The other hunter that was with us that morning,
an older gentleman, was gracious enough to give me the
first opportunity to harvest this magnificent bull. When
I was unable to connect, he harvested the great bull on
his second shot. This bull had a 6x6 frame but was
actually a 5x5 since he was missing both G-2 points.
Many of the tines on this bull’s antlers were partially
busted from the rut, yet he was still a very respectable
bull! In the meantime, another hunter in our group had a
230 yard shot at a 330+ class bull but was unable to
take him, which was disappointing.
The majority of the fourth day was fairly uneventful.
That evening while glassing in another area we spotted
three mature bulls feeding high on top of a mountain and
we decided to go hunt them the following morning. At
first light the next morning we were at the top of the
mountain looking for the bulls we had spotted the
evening before. As we hunted, Lance spotted three cows
and a spike bull. Lance asked if I was interested in
taking a spike and I declined. The other hunter that was
with us that morning was on his last day to hunt and
decided to harvest the spike to put some meat in the
freezer. Matt made a great shot and our work began.
Wow, Lance and his guides had provided 100% opportunity
to their five hunters and had filled 3 of 5 bull
licenses! I had been fortunate enough to be with every
hunter and bull that was harvested during the week,
maybe things really do happen for a reason. I began
thinking I was the lucky charm! The only remaining
hunter with an unfilled license besides me was Robert,
the hunter who earlier in the week had an outstanding
opportunity at the 330+ class bull. Unfortunately,
Robert had to return home that evening without filling
his license.
I was now the only hunter with an unfilled license and
had the support and expertise of three excellent guides
and my dad to help me harvest my bull. I thought to
myself, how could this get any better? We had two days
left in the hunt and I was apparently the lucky charm
during the week. But would my new found luck work for
me? That evening Lance took us to his secret spot, a
sacred meadow that very few other hunters have had the
opportunity to experience. When we arrived at the edge
of the meadow at about 3:30 pm there were about 45 cows,
calves, and spike bulls already in the meadow. We stood
still in the edge of the trees watching them for well
over five minutes before a wise old cow sensed something
was not quite right and grouped-up the herd and left the
area. I again opted not to take one of the spike bulls.
After the herd left the meadow we positioned ourselves
under a small group of trees for the remainder of the
evening hunt. Three more cows fed across the meadow and
then two more cows and a bull stepped out onto the far
edge of the meadow. I placed my rifle on the tripod,
with my scope on the branched antlered bull, and waited
for the bull to turn broadside before I was willing to
take the shot. When the bull turned broadside I noticed
he was a 4x5 raghorn and at that moment I began to
recall how I had convinced myself before the hunt that I
was not going to Arizona and shoot a raghorn or a spike
bull, after all this was my dream hunt! I decided to
pass on the opportunity. My guides and dad were
perplexed that I passed on this respectable bull
especially this late in the hunt. Lance later said,
“What kind of a 15 year old, who has never shot a bull
elk, has the discipline to pass on a nice branch
antlered bull near the end of the hunt?” They were all
astonishingly impressed that I had the fortitude to
“stick to my guns” and goal of taking a trophy bull. I
never had any regrets with my decision as something
inside me was telling me to wait. After the fact, I
could not believe that I was capable of passing on that
nice bull. As the sun was setting, another cow and her
calf walked through the meadow, between the only two
trees in the opening, and directly to us. Walking within
15 yards of where I was seated with Lance. One thing is
for certain, that evening in the sacred meadow was truly
the most magical experience of my life!
The next morning my guides decided to go back to the
area we hunted opening morning to see if any of the
bulls they had previously scouted were back in the area.
At daybreak, Lance and I were moving toward an area
where our spotters had located a bull. We came around a
large tree and there he was, a bull standing at about
500 yards looking directly at us, BUSTED! The bull
looked away momentarily so we dropped to the ground and
crawled on all fours to get a closer look. When we
finally looked up the bull was gone. We quickly got to
our feet and scurried to a position where we could look
to where we last saw the bull. Suddenly, we saw a second
bull and one of our spotters was going crazy over the
radio telling us to take the front bull who was
definitely a “shooter”. Lance stopped the front bull
with a cow call and ranged him at 500 yards. I felt
confident that I could make the shot, as the year
before; I had downed a cow elk with one perfectly placed
shot at 450 yards. I took the shot and the bull just
stood there. So, I chambered another round and with
coaching from Lance aimed even higher and fired. The
bull started to trot away, so Lance cow called again and
the bull stopped. I took aim six inches higher than the
previous shot and fired. No luck, the bull took off
again but this time he was followed by the first bull
that had initially busted us. Lance cow called and
stopped the bull a third time. Again, with coaching from
Lance I took aim and fired yet six inches higher.
Trotting again, Lance tried everything to stop the bull,
but to no avail. Lance instructed me to shoot the
antlers which would account for the drop and lead.
Again, I missed. We moved to find another opening. We
were able to watch the first bull go around the hill and
knew for sure that he had not been hit. So, we turned
our attention to the second bull. By the time I was able
to reload and get into position for a shot, it was too
late. We watched the second bull as he moved out of
range. As the bull started around the hill Lance noticed
that the bull appeared to be limping when our spotters
came across the radio indicating that they too thought
the back bull was limping and hit. Lance turned to me
and asked, “Did you shoot at that bull?” Since the bull
was limping we both thought I must have unknowingly
taken a shot at the second bull. So, we ran around the
hill below where the bulls had been headed focusing on
the back bull that we believed to be hit. Our spotters
indicated that we were moving directly in the path of
where both bulls where headed. Suddenly, the huge bull
ran right in front of us, 60 yards away. Believe me, I
wanted to shoot at the huge bull but didn’t since we
were fairly certain the second bull was already hit and
it was our obligation to pursue him. Shortly after the
huge bull ran across in front of us the second bull was
spotted moving down the hill in our direction. I
prepared myself for the shot. The bull moved within 150
yards and Lance stopped him with a cow call. Boom! I
shot and could see him take a hard hit right behind the
front shoulder, but did not go down. I shot a second
time with another good hit behind the shoulder, but
again, the bull did not go down. Lance said, “Hit him
again!” So, I decided to place one in his neck and the
bull swiftly dropped to the ground. Immediately after
the bull went down Lance called on the radio and told
everyone, “33 lives to see another day, but Curly is
down, I repeat, Curly is down!” There was nothing but
screaming, hugging, and loud celebration as Lance picked
me up and gave me a bear-hug like no other!
I was in complete awe with what had just happened and
quite frankly could not believe my dream had finally
come true. My bull was a beautiful 5x6, which was seen
by the guides almost every scouting trip they had taken
in the area before the season. The guides had nicknamed
the bull “Curly” because he was a very social bull that
usually hung around with two other bulls. Originally,
they were planning to nickname the threesome, “Larry”,
“Curly”, and “Moe”. But since Curly was the only bull
they spotted consistently the nickname stuck. After all
the picture taking, further examination of Curly
revealed that I had not actually hit him in my earlier
shot attempts. I had placed two shots within two-inches
of each other behind his front shoulder and the third
shot in the neck. We discovered that Curly had several
cinders embedded in his front hooves that had created
very tender open wounds. We believe this is actually why
Curly was favoring his front shoulders and moving slower
than the bigger bull. I found out later that the huge
bull had been nicknamed “33” because the guides all
figured the bull would score 330+ B&C points.
It was an unbelievable week and hunt. I truly believe
there is a reason I did not harvest “33”. First of all,
this was my first bull and I would have set the bar
awfully high for myself having taken a bull of that
caliber early in my hunting career. Secondly, many
things happened for various reasons during my hunt and I
may never fully understand why. Who knows, maybe I can
return and hunt “33” or one of his offspring another day
in the beautiful elk hunting state of Arizona.
About Me: I began hunting birds when I was eight
years old and harvested my first elk at 12 years of age.
I am a 15 year old high school sophomore from Denver,
Colorado and thoroughly enjoy every minute I spend in
the outdoors.
Equipment:
Rifle: .260 Mark II Ruger
Optics: Bushnell 10x42
Ammo: 135 gr. Reloads
Camo: Prairie Ghost
Boots: Danner Pronghorns
