Faulkner
Member
My 16 year old son and I went out to deer hunt at one of my favorite spots in the Ozark Mountains in northern Arkansas. I've already taken a nice 8 point this season in south Arkansas near the Louisiana border, so I was more interested in my son bagging a deer this time out.
I've taken several deer from this particular spot in years past, but I like the area for the sheer beauty of the scenery and remoteness as much as anything. It's in a pretty rugged area and we have to cross a fairly wide creek, which is usually not a problem unless there have been recent heavy rains. This specific spot is on a rock ledge about 60 yards off the creek into the woods. The ledge is about 10 feet up overlooking the banks of the creek and a large low area in front of us. The ground rises up a steep hill to either side and behind us and there is enough room on the ledge for two people to set up comfortably behind a camo burlap tarp I strung on the front of the ledge.
I decided to forgo a rifle this trip and took my Nikon DSLR with 300mm lens instead, though I was packing my M65 stoked with .357 magnums. My son was using my scoped .30-06 Ruger M77 MKII bolt action rifle. I was hoping to get some action stills with the camera of my son and his quarry on this hunt.
Sure enough, after only about 30 minutes my son pointed out a doe moving quickly up the hill to our left. I snapped off a quick shot with the camera but it was certainly in a hurry. Then less than a minute later, two more came through right behind the first up the steep hill. I was only able to squeeze off a couple of quick pictures, my son was waiting patiently for a buck.
"Keep an eye out son, something must have spooked those does."
As the does ran up the hill behind us, we settled back down to watch the area before us. After a short while my son whispered ever so softly, "Dad, you hear that?"
"Yeah," I whispered back. It sounded like something slipping along our side of the creek bank. It wasn't being especially quiet, but we couldn't see it yet either.
My son had the binoculars up scanning when he whispered again, "hoooooly cow!! Look at the rack on that monster!"
"Where??" I asked as I pulled up my camera and zoomed all the way in.
"Over there coming out of that cane break."
I finally caught a glimpse of movement but couldn't quite get a good view through the camera. I nudged my son and he handed me the binoculars. When I got the monster rack in view I said, "that ain't no deer, that's a freaking elk! Be real still and let's see how close he'll come."
I watched it slip our way for a while and then when he put his head down to graze I eased the binoculars down to exchange it for the camera. I was very intrigued because though I'd seen elk in the Boxley Valley area around the Buffalo River Wildlife Management Area, we were a long way from there and I didn't know they had ranged this far away. As many times as I'd been to this area before I have never seen or even heard of anyone else seeing elk in this area.
After we watched it ease towards us for a few minutes, my son asked in barely a whisper, "do we have to have a extra permit to hunt these?"
"Yeah, buddy, I'm afraid so. And we don't have one."
"That's fine . . . man is this cool though!"
I thought so too, very cool.
Whereas the deer we had seen earlier had run up the hill to our left, the bull elk slowly worked it's way across the front of us left to right staying near the creek bank, then once it was to our right it climbed up the hill. It was really too dense to get any good pictures until he circled around behind us and I was able to turn around and get a couple of glimpses through the brush before he eventually slipped out of sight.
After the excitement of watching the elk died down we went back to the business of watching for whitetail deer. With no more activity going on we finally gave up around 10:30 and hiked back to the truck. Though we didn't bring back any meat, we both thought this was one of the best hunts we'd ever been on . . . often times it's more about making memories with your kids.
I've taken several deer from this particular spot in years past, but I like the area for the sheer beauty of the scenery and remoteness as much as anything. It's in a pretty rugged area and we have to cross a fairly wide creek, which is usually not a problem unless there have been recent heavy rains. This specific spot is on a rock ledge about 60 yards off the creek into the woods. The ledge is about 10 feet up overlooking the banks of the creek and a large low area in front of us. The ground rises up a steep hill to either side and behind us and there is enough room on the ledge for two people to set up comfortably behind a camo burlap tarp I strung on the front of the ledge.
I decided to forgo a rifle this trip and took my Nikon DSLR with 300mm lens instead, though I was packing my M65 stoked with .357 magnums. My son was using my scoped .30-06 Ruger M77 MKII bolt action rifle. I was hoping to get some action stills with the camera of my son and his quarry on this hunt.
Sure enough, after only about 30 minutes my son pointed out a doe moving quickly up the hill to our left. I snapped off a quick shot with the camera but it was certainly in a hurry. Then less than a minute later, two more came through right behind the first up the steep hill. I was only able to squeeze off a couple of quick pictures, my son was waiting patiently for a buck.
"Keep an eye out son, something must have spooked those does."
As the does ran up the hill behind us, we settled back down to watch the area before us. After a short while my son whispered ever so softly, "Dad, you hear that?"
"Yeah," I whispered back. It sounded like something slipping along our side of the creek bank. It wasn't being especially quiet, but we couldn't see it yet either.
My son had the binoculars up scanning when he whispered again, "hoooooly cow!! Look at the rack on that monster!"
"Where??" I asked as I pulled up my camera and zoomed all the way in.
"Over there coming out of that cane break."
I finally caught a glimpse of movement but couldn't quite get a good view through the camera. I nudged my son and he handed me the binoculars. When I got the monster rack in view I said, "that ain't no deer, that's a freaking elk! Be real still and let's see how close he'll come."
I watched it slip our way for a while and then when he put his head down to graze I eased the binoculars down to exchange it for the camera. I was very intrigued because though I'd seen elk in the Boxley Valley area around the Buffalo River Wildlife Management Area, we were a long way from there and I didn't know they had ranged this far away. As many times as I'd been to this area before I have never seen or even heard of anyone else seeing elk in this area.
After we watched it ease towards us for a few minutes, my son asked in barely a whisper, "do we have to have a extra permit to hunt these?"
"Yeah, buddy, I'm afraid so. And we don't have one."
"That's fine . . . man is this cool though!"
I thought so too, very cool.
Whereas the deer we had seen earlier had run up the hill to our left, the bull elk slowly worked it's way across the front of us left to right staying near the creek bank, then once it was to our right it climbed up the hill. It was really too dense to get any good pictures until he circled around behind us and I was able to turn around and get a couple of glimpses through the brush before he eventually slipped out of sight.
After the excitement of watching the elk died down we went back to the business of watching for whitetail deer. With no more activity going on we finally gave up around 10:30 and hiked back to the truck. Though we didn't bring back any meat, we both thought this was one of the best hunts we'd ever been on . . . often times it's more about making memories with your kids.
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