Postcard from the Past: Elk Hunting With Your Wife

This is a repeat of a postcard I penned several years ago, but still worth sharing as I head to the mountains for another elk hunt. 

A few years ago, I wrote:

Having recently returned from several weeks in the mountains hunting, fishing, relaxing, drinking beer, BS’ing and enjoying the most beautiful fall colors I’ve witnessed in years, I was reminded of an elk hunting story I wrote about more than 40 years ago. 

My “Saratoga Chips” column in the Oct. 18, 1978 issue of the Saratoga Sun read:

Any elk hunter with experience knows better than to take his wife hunting with him.

Every time he does “give in” and takes the woman along, she ends up getting the biggest bull in the woods.

I am well aware of this happening but I took Marty elk hunting anyway, and sure enough, she has the only elk in camp and it is a big six-point bull.

Marty not only got the only elk so far, she also proved another of the known elk truisms –women will kill it down in the deepest hole in the country, in a pile of downed timber and then expect the men to spend two days carrying it to camp a quarter at a time.

The big bull my wife bagged wasn’t quite so bad, but the hill on which it was killed was so steep you couldn’t walk on it without slipping and sliding. The only way the elk kept from sliding to the bottom was that it fell, rammed its antlers into a pine tree and hung there. 

We dressed it out while the bull’s antlers remained implanted in the tree.

It took four of us most of Tuesday to pack the meat and magnificent rack back to camp.

After bagging her first elk, Marty’s been talking about getting a big black bear we see every year. Sure hope the bear stays hidden, since the little woman is starting to gain confidence after getting a deer and an elk.

The only thing I’m good at getting is a special elk permit nearly every year. Maybe I’ll see a big, dry cow wander by camp while I’m doing the gutting, packing and fixing supper, all while Marty is bear hunting.

It’s back to the woods tomorrow to try my luck.

This year’s memories of past hunting trips with Marty were especially plentiful and vivid as she passed away this spring.