Cooler mornings and earlier sunsets. An extra cup of morning coffee and maybe a finger or two of evening bourbon. Time to inventory the firewood out front and spread the rye grass seed. To most people it’s probably just a break from the heat, pumpkin lattes at the coffee shop and a change of wardrobe. A chance to actually enjoy taking the dog for a long walk and maybe try to get into an outside exercise routine. Who knows, maybe you will even plant a fall garden. This is not what’s on my mind.. I feel like I have an animal instinct inside me, maybe it’s in my DNA. As the whitetail deer transition from red summer velvet to hard horn nomads, I feel it! It’s the feeling of the light around you dimming and the soft sounds of the creatures coming out at night. The feeling of a fire burning in the distance warming the cool night air. It’s like the change in seasons sets off a survival instinct in animals and in man. I am a believer that God built us in this way and I embrace it. In fact, I am absolutely consumed by it.
Since our kids were born they have been submerged in this lifestyle. In fact, while Denise was around eight months pregnant with Hunter, her and I were camping and shot one of my best low fence deer to this day. I can remember needing her help to pull this deer up on to the tailgate and how big her belly was at the time with baby Hunter. I will never forget that. Hunter and Ellie have embraced it and it has been a huge part of keeping us as close of a family as we are. That is probably one of the most important things I can say or advise I could ever offer someone. Hunting season is here. The stage is set. It’s time to perform.
After years of hunting South Texas our desire for bigger game, more challenges, and different terrain really started to grow. As Hunter got older and more mature, the opportunity to travel to farther places and search for bigger game became our focus. Our sights were set on elk and we were determined to put in our time. We both knew not to expect it to come easy but we didn’t know what was in store for us either. My brother in law, Ty, is from the Taos, New Mexico area. Ken, his father, became our first mentor for elk hunting and knowledge of the local mountain terrain. So every October we would travel to the Tres Piedras area and try to learn how to track and stalk these animals for a week at a time.
If you want to catch the sight of a bull elk in the open and grazing, you have to be early and sometimes that might be pretty far away. About as soon as there is a glimpse of light, the wise bulls head back up into the tree line, not to be seen. The morning can easily turn into a 5 mile hike. Up one side of a ravine and down the other. Over and over again. it all starts to look the same and remembering where you have and have not been can be a little nerve racking. But that’s what OnX is for these days. Around noon we would always stop at a nice vantage position to glass the area, eat a sandwich, and discuss our evening approach. I felt like we always did a good job of planning and tried to be as strategic as we could with our limited knowledge. Back to the sandwich! The “Questa Sandwich” was a staple on the trail and easily the most unusual sandwich I’ve have ever had. I don’t know exactly how it came about but it was Ken’s favorite and it became mine too. White bread, peanut butter, pimento cheese, sliced onions, pickles, and Tapatio hot sauce. Now wrap it in foil, smash it into the bottom of your daypack, let it get cold and voila! Trust me, it’s way better than it sounds! Hunter and I spent five years learning and hunting northern New Mexico in the Carson National Forest. Some seasons were fairly warm and dry and sometimes is was just COLD and the snow was a whole other challenge to learn. Over the years there were opportunities missed and maybe a shot or two as well. But we cut our teeth in those mountains and learned some tricks that would ultimately lead us to our success.
On year six Ken had to take a break with some health issues and needed some time to get on the mend. At the same time an opportunity to hunt public land in far west central Colorado came up. This area was new to us but we were pretty confident in our abilities at this point to track elk and deal with elevation and weather conditions. But, there were things we were not prepared for..
Trailers loaded, we hit the road for the Rocky Mountains!
We made the drive in one day, arriving to our campsite in the dark of night. When morning came, we were very eager to set out and survey the area. after all, this was home for the week and there was plenty to do. The land was big and vast! Everything seemed to be larger than life! I remember sitting on a cliffside with Hunter, drinking a cup of coffee and staring out across one of the most beautiful mountain valleys I have ever seen. It was like being a character inside of a famous mountain painting. In order to cover the region, you had to drive an ATV across large valleys to get to the next mountain ridge or advantageous area. what we didn’t know was that our diesel powered side by side was naturally aspirated and the high altitude would not allow the motor to get enough oxygen. Basically, our ride was almost useless. This was a huge blow to our abilities to cover land fast and equally as detrimental to our motivation for a short time. But we came this far so we did what we had to do and adapted. Being on foot, we simply couldn’t get to the far off places others were prospecting. We decided to turn around and go up the mountain behind camp on foot. It didn’t really appear that anyone, or not many people, had this idea. Not sure why but it seemed logical to us. After a day or so, Hunter caught a quick glimpse of a bull crossing a path. We found fresh tracks, scat, and soon enough we could smell them. One thing we learned in New Mexico was that if you can smell them, you are probably within 50 yards! So for a couple days we tracked the elk, following their signs and trying to get closer. After chatting with the guys at camp, it seemed we were the only ones actively tracking some bull elk. This was a good feeling! A few days later a snow storm came in and changed everything. This was our opportunity to test what we had learned in New Mexico. It was an evening hunt and we found some fresh tracks pretty quick. Hunter and I followed these tracks like a blood hound on a coon. But like a raccoon, the elk tracks would sometimes makes circles and just disappear.. we would pick it up again quickly and be back on the move. Stopping every so often to put up noses and try to sense how close we were getting.
The scent was strong, we were close! All we had to do was speed up our pace just a bit. The bull was moving from tree to tree to find the grass that wasn’t covered in snow, but he was moving faster than us.
Then, it just happened.. Hunter yelled out “ THERE HE IS!!” only about 60 yards away. About as fast as I could turn around, Hunter swung up the rifle and took a standing shot at a moving bull elk. My eyes locked on to it at the exact moment Hunter took his first shot. It dropped the animal and Hunter screamed out in excitement. I watched as the animal gathered himself to make his final run. This part was like living out a scene in a western movie in slow motion. The bull took to the trail with everything he had left in him. Hunter exchanged four more rounds with him. I watched seemingly in slow motion, as they went back and forth with this battle. Each landed shot was followed by another chase until it wasn’t.
This part was something I will remember for the rest of my life. We walked up to the elk with a feeling that this might have just been a dream. Hunter and I dropped to our knees and met him on the blood covered snow where he lay. The first thing we did was take a moment together to thank God for how much he had blessed us. As we sat there celebrating, it really sank in how much work we had put into this. The amount of time we had spent together over the years in preparation for this moment. It had been the perfect hunt. We met each challenge with stronger resolve and we did it all together. Now we get to carry this beautiful creation of God out of the snow covered mountains on our backs just like we had always dreamed of doing TOGETHER! This was my dream come true. It was placed in our life at the exact moment God knew we were ready for it and I am so dearly thankful for every single aspect of this experience.
We worked as a team that evening with our group to get this animal butchered and hauled out. When we got back to camp late that night, it was a time of celebration. We started a fire, poured drinks, and told stories for hours! We were all so happy. We were all so thankful. This will be a campfire story I will always tell and hopefully one day I can tell it to my grandkids as well.
Jed Mazour
From the Texas outdoors: hunting season has a way of organizing a man’s whole year. For the dove hunt that kicks things off in Texas, Paloma Fest covers the tradition. And for a pursuit worth planning months in advance, Cazando El Pavo Del Rio Grande makes a strong case for the Rio Grande turkey.
