Suffield Alberta - My Prairie Elk Experience

IronNoggin

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As originally posted on the Alberta Forum...

Been struggling with this one for a spell so it's taken a while to get my mind wrapped around just how this report should proceed...
This will not be like most of the hunting reports I have filed, although there will be some of that. Going to be lengthy, and towards the end likely controversial for some. That said, bear with me as I relate the situation as best I am able...

Background

Established in 1941, Canadian Forces Base Suffield is the largest Canadian Forces Base and the largest military training base in the commonwealth.
It encompasses 1,040 square miles of chiefly prairie habitat - grasslands, rolling hills and river breaks along the South Saskatchewan River. It is widely recognized as one of the largest contiguous blocks of natural prairie grassland in the world, a final remnant of North America's Northern Great Plains. In 2003 177 square miles along the River were designated as the Suffield National Wildlife Area.

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When the base was fenced, it "captured" herds of wild horses termed Mustangs within it's confines.
These horses did extremely well, foraging on the rich native grasses and a near complete lack of predators.

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It was their success that eventually lead to their undoing. Upon the recommendation of an Advisory Committee, convened by the Base Commander at the time to review the relationship between the horses and the natural environment, the 1,200+ horses were rounded up and removed from the base completely.

From the early '60's to the early '80's various forms of grazing leases were let within the base to local cattle producers. In 1982 the last of those leases expired, and the program discontinued citing a 1977 AF&W report that grazing on C.F.B. Suffield had negatively affected vegetation and species dependent on the same..

It was soon recognized that the grassland ecosystem was now being negatively effected by the lack of grazing animals, a factor well recognized as playing a vital role in grassland ecosystem maintenance. The American Bison (Buffalo) that once dominated the area were not considered a viable option to fill that role. So, in 1997 and 1998 a total of ~ 220 Elk were transplanted to Suffield from Elk Island National Park.

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The introduced Elk started off with superior genetics, and soon made themselves right at home on the vast grasslands now available to them.
With the rich forage, and lack of predators, their population literally exploded from that initial 220 in 1998 to an estimated 7,000 in 2015. A 3,200 % increase in just 17 years.

When the elk were originally introduced, local area ranchers operating adjacent to the base were told the herd would be managed so as not to exceed management's understanding of full carrying capacity - 800 Elk.
No attempts were made regarding active "management" in the years that followed, and with the hugely increasing numbers, conflicts began to arise between the Elk and ranchers / farmers outside the base. As the Elk numbers grew, these conflicts increased almost exponentially as the elk expanded "their" range to encompass the surrounding areas.

Under increasing pressure from those negatively effected by the elk, consideration now (finally) had to be given towards methods of actually managing the elk towards realistic numbers that the area could support. The concept of a huge round-up, and subsequent mass slaughter as proposed by some local ranchers was quickly dismissed. The next to be considered was capturing and relocating large numbers of the elk to various places within Alberta to either bolster depleted populations, or initiate new ones. This was dismissed by management (a HUGE mistake in this author's opinion) based upon the extremely remote possibility of disease introduction / broadcasting to the areas of introduction (despite the Fact that not a SINGLE incident of CWD, Tuberculosis or Brucellosis had EVER been recorded in any Suffield elk).

Thus the decision was eventually made in 2012 to allow hunting inside the base. A First Time Ever event that in itself was the subject of controversy.
Of much greater controversy was the way the hunts were stratified. Initially First Nations were directly invited to participate, with the expectation they would hunt for subsistence, and equally target cows and bulls. The hunts also allowed for non-aboriginal participation - Limited Draw required, and COW ONLY.
Frustration and resentment were soon forthcoming among Alberta's non-aboriginal hunting community, and it appeared to be with good reason. In their initial hunts, First Nations showed a decided preference for the larger mature bulls over the cows, taking 469 bulls vs 151 cows. It became readily apparent that many viewed these as exclusive Trophy Hunts rather than subsistence meat gathering events.

Despite the numbers hunting removed, the recruitment rate among the elk remained substantial, in fact surpassing the number killed by hunters for the next few years. Increases in numbers of on-base tags were supplemented with an increase in the number of tags let outside the base over time.

Again finally, in 2015 changes were made to the hunt stratification which would allow non-aboriginal hunters access to bull tags...
 
Against this backdrop, and knowing the area and it's elk, the decision was made to enter the draw for Suffield Bull Elk for the 2015 hunts. Being only a Priority 3, I realized the odds were likely long, but with the prospect of hunting the base itself, it was a no-brainer to enter...

We did not draw our first request (first hunt) nor our second (first hunt in January 2016) but did manage to draw on our third: the second hunt of January 2016.

The Scouting Run

Through the fall our Crew scrutinized the ongoing hunts there in as great as detail as possible. What we were hearing was downright discouraging (more on this later) but we managed to keep our spirits high, and looked greatly forward to the opportunity we were being afforded.

I visited an area adjacent to the base and managed to be successful on a Fine Muley Buck with my bow.
That also allowed me a good glimpse at what was occurring off the base (FN and LEH Hunting) and see a handful of rather tremendous bulls those hunts had taken.
Also got the odd glimpse inside the base, where in some places the elk trails looked like cattle had been run there for 1,000+ years!!

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Also on that run we saw several Great Bulls that really helped to keep the enthusiasm high for the impeding hunt!!

The last days of hunting here on the Island passed into memory, and I held tight to the thought that my season wasn't over quite yet!
Lots of calls, lots of discussions, pouring over every little bit of intel I could gather kept me focused on the happenings a Province away until the day I could wander back there...

Deciding to make the journey in a couple of hops, my regular Island Hunting Partner and I departed home a full 3 days early, and overnighted with a Great Friend in Vancouver we hadn't had the pleasure of visiting with for far too long. Despite the excellent camaraderie and visit, we were up and away well before the first greying of the morning sky.

The highway was fine, and the miles literally flew by. Before we knew it we were topping out on the continental divide, and sliding downhill eastwards into Alberta. Although we had planned on an evening stop in Calgary, we decided to forgo that and make the final miles to Medicine Hat in one push. Again the weather cooperated with that mission, and we arrived to hearty grins & firm handshakes all round in the mid-evening.

There is a reason I plan these trips with the Buddy whose place we landed at so as to arrive a tad early. True to form, we "celebrated" well into the wee hours of the next morn (as I simply knew we would) requiring the next day to be a write-off spent recovering! Well worth it every time, and this instance was no different! The tales of Glory (and some not so glorious) kept all entertained, laughing and grinning the whole while. And it was much to my satisfaction that my two hunting buddies - one from BC, the other from Alberta - got along as famously as they did! In fact I do recall thinking that together they might well prove Dangerous to my health!! LOL!

One of the topics of discussion that night and the next day was the long snow machine run our Alberta Buddy had made - pretty well the entire river adjacent to the base the very day before we arrived. That report wasn't all that "pretty" as far as our aspirations were concerned. Despite temperatures below minus 20, the big river had yet to freeze solid enough to allow an elk to cross (a positive thing in many aspects). But even with fresh snow, the sign and sightings for his run were worse than dismal. Extremely few tracks, and a total of 3 bulls sighted being the only elk he wandered across in that full day run. The only thing that held our spirits up at that point was the somewhat dubious conclusion that "all the elk must still be up deeper on the base...".

Following the recovery day, and a day before our hunt would commence, we rose before dawn, and set off for a full day's scout of the entire base perimeter.
A skiff of new snow topped the 4 or so inches already down as we made our approach. Spotting scopes, Binoc's and telescope in hand, we set out to see whatever we could for sign of our quarry...

The run across the southern boundary produced a couple far off sightings of cows & calves, but little of interest beyond that.
Making our way northwards along the western boundary was much of the same until we neared the northern boundary intersection.
Topping a small hill, there was a little herd of elk, and in it the first bull we would see this trip:

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Sure, just a spikey, but a bull nonetheless!

Their initial reaction appeared to be confusion, but it certainly did not take long before they firmly engaged the afterburners!!

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No other encounters were realized as we turned now to the east, and wandered our way along the northern base boundary.
However it was but a short time after that turn when we ran into the first of a great many antelope herds we would bump into in the next coming days:

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Although most had shed their horns (the only critter that does that with this type of horn) it was readily apparent that many we saw during this trip would be True Trophy Material. These were outside the base, but soon ducked back inside upon our appearance. Likely that protected area is the reason we saw as many Good Ones as we did methinks...

Also extremely interesting to be seeking hard for elk in the same areas frequented by these little Speedy Goats!
Our BC Buddy was entirely fascinated by this, exclaiming Now I understand why you guys shoot such long range rifles, and get so damn good with them! aYup!

To this point we had seen but little sign of anything beyond Mulies and Antelope wandering off the base. A small herd of perhaps a dozen had wandered westwards just before the herd the spike was in, and to this point, that was it.
So, when we topped another herd and found a significant crossing - fence completely down and tracks of 40+ elk - we got a little more excited. Unfortunately they were at least a day or two old, and going away from the base. But hey! More signs! They still exist!!

That was to be it for signs and sightings until we crossed the river.
Doing that on the highway, we soon wandered back to the river breaks across from the eastern boundary of the base.

Stopping to take peeks from every available high spot, we checked out numerous Mulies along our way:

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Some had asked why we did not get out and hunt on foot much. Were these river breaks to be open, we certainly would have!

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But alas, those on this side of the river are either outside the base, or in an area they did not open for us. And on the other side, the Wildlife Sanctuary encompasses all but the flat in the above picture. In that picture, you can see the wide open low flat that is on the base - the only section of river bank not inside the NWR. Walking across such flats, anything certainly sticks out like a sore thumb!! The hills behind - closed of course.

...
 
The base does not allow any pictures to be taken while there. We stuck to that religiously, but here is one I sniped off the net. Don't know if it is actually on the base or not, but certainly looks extremely similar to the central portion there. Again, a great indication why a hiking style hunt would largely be a Fool's Effort in most areas:

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Our Scouting Run continued, making stops whenever we could see across into the base, and perhaps see a glimpse of an elk or two...

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And as we wandered south, finally... SUCCESS!!

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You can't make them out in the above picture, but there is ~ 125 elk in there. Scattered over the mid and tops of those far off bluffs.
And... ALL Bulls! The Bachelor Herd.

Scrambling to set up our most powerful optics, we zoomed in for a bit of a closer look:

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Excuse the poor quality, this was the first time I have ever tried to take a picture through a bloody telescope! LOL!!

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Although we well recognized that herd was within the National Wildlife Sanctuary, our spirits literally SOARED!
Target Found, Identified, and exact position Plotted! Mission Successful!!!

We spent a considerable time drooling of course before once again pointing southwards...

With no other sightings forthcoming, we eventually broke off to visit with a couple area Ranchers where we checked the zero on my rifles (no change) and shared some tall tales with long term Buddies. All noted there were damn near no elk in their areas this winter, with only the odd smaller herd passing through.
Meant little to us at that point - we now KNEW where the ones we wished to concentrate on were. And we meant fully to do just that the following morning...
 
That same evening, several folks that had been in previous hunts wandered by to have a chat .
Some expressed encouragement, some helped define strategies, and some were downright full of discouragement.
Nonetheless, we hashed out The Plan for the following morning - one which I felt was sound and worthy of pursuit.

Before I get into the "Hunt" itself, I should explain just a little of the background of The Players:

Myself - semi-retired Biologist with over 4 decades of hunting experience ranging from pretty well all of Western North America, the Arctic, Africa etc.
Well experienced on elk, having taken 28 before this hunt. A few of those were "fence-line hunts" adjacent to National Parks or otherwise closed areas - similar to what we now were staring down. Practiced Long Range Prairie Shooter. Noted among our Crew as the best judge of "score on the hoof" and efficient at spotting game at distance.

Alberta Partner - Long Term Professional Guide / Outfitter.
Experience world-wide, and very much so in wide open prairie style hunts.
Excellent Spotter, even better Strategist.
One of the Toughest Men I know, and one of the Best Friends I've ever had.

BC Partner - Wildlife Monitor by trade of late. Very Well Experienced. Not much in the way of elk experience (yet - we're working on that) but a Very Good Sheep Killer. Great eyes for game. Incredible Enthusiasm, Good Head on his shoulders, and another I'd trust my Life to in a heartbeat.

My Alberta Partner's Lady drew the same tag, same time. I will never understand why he engaged another guide to take her out for the hunt, and chose to accompany me instead (my Lady would KILL me!!). Thankful he did though, and the strategy of two trucks working together made very sound sense.

At the end of the day, we had put on over 700 kilometers on my BC partners Toyota (Damn Tough & Capable Rig!!). Damn thankful fuel was running around 72 cents a liter! The chattering fringe were booted out early so we could supposedly get "a good night's sleep".

In my case that wasn't about to happen. After seeing the Big Boys - visions of what if and unbridled Anticipation ran so strongly through my mind sleep was a physical impossibility. Somehow managed to drift off just as I heard someone else start the coffee makings for the day about to unfold...
 
It seemed to me mere minutes since I had drifted into slumber, and in fact, it likely was when my BC Partner kicked open the bedroom door and roared Coffee is ON!!!

Wiping sleep from my eyes, I staggered to the kitchen, noisily complaining about Truck Butt after the run from BC and a full 700+ kilometer run the previous day. The searing coffee was a welcome relief, and was shortly working it's Magic. Aches and Pains quickly gave way to the rush of Anticipation that came roaring back at Full Steam! Time to Load Up!

The "Hunt" Day One

Packing four of us into the rig was interesting even with the four doors! Three rifle, lunches, ammo, orange vests, spotting scopes and all the gear we thought there was a remote possibility of needing squished in tight. Thankfully the truck had been started quite early, and it's heater held sway against the chill of the well before dawn hour.

Racing up the highway towards the Briefing Point, I realized we were damn early. As in an hour early! LOL! Nothing quite like the prospect of The Hunt to get the old bones rolling it seems! Once at the appointed gathering spot, we met up with the fellow who would be commanding Truck Two for our impending foray. He is well rehearsed on the Base, having been directly involved in no less than three successful hunts this season. We quickly bundled all of The Lady's equipment and rifle into his rig, and wandered inside the briefing hall. Although we were early, there was already a line-up. Many had not filled out their forms prior to arrival, and that stalled the process for some time. Eventually we were up, and sidled up to the table to complete our registrations. The fellow who did this was quite efficient, although more than a little doubtful regarding our chances of success...

While we waited for the briefing presentation, we held close to the registration table so as to overhear any tidbit of intel that might prove useful. None of that was forthcoming. In fact the alternative was much more predominant. Most of the hunters seemed downtrodden and discouraged. They were not helped in that aspect by some of the comments from base staff suggesting "You guys are your own worst enemies" & "there are no elk left in the open areas" & "most of the elk have left the base". Although these gentlemen were polite, it was rather plain to see they were burned out and pessimistic at this late stage of the "Elk Herd Reduction Program".

Through the previous openings, we had heard of great numbers of FN attendance. Thus we were quite surprised when only around a dozen showed up for this briefing. As the last of the hunters & their crews slowly wandered in, it became apparent that there was no way this could be wrapped up in time to allow an approach to the area before first light. Oh Well...
When the CO finally did call the meeting to order, a quick survey suggested there were about 140 folks attending all told.

The briefing was informative and explicit, explaining the nature of this "reduction" and clearly defining the Rules all who ventured onto the base must comply with. Some I kind of wondered about such as the No Photos rule. One can scrutinize the area quite closely via Google Earth, and at the time I simply did not get that (I eventually realized some of the why's - more on that later too...). Others made perfect sense such as the Ban on touching any ordinance found laying around out there on the prairie. For us, although informative, the meeting did nothing to relieve our impatience to get rolling...

After the CO finished up, a biologist gave a follow-up presentation. This same routine was to be adhered to for the next few days. Then suddenly the CO called the meeting over, and a Mad Rush for the door ensued! Already forewarned about this development, we were staged to get out of Dodge Damn Fast! As I we did so I heard one older Gent cry Holy chit as folks scrambled HARD around him for the parking lot.

Again already forewarned, our truck was parked in a rather strategic position. That meant a good 100 yard DASH, something I can proudly say my aging body managed quite nicely thank you! That put us into the number six position as the trucks now hit the highway North towards the only two entry points onto the base. Traffic that morning seemed damn near "sedate" in comparison with what would happen in subsequent mornings, and rolled along barely above the posted speed limit.

Arriving at the first gate, we realized 3 of the trucks in front of us kicked it up a gear and continued on the highway north. Two turned in front of us, and we now slid into position three. Good News. Once on the base, the two leaders did not slow their pace, continuing at damn near highway speeds towards the eastern front. We carried along, dropping a little behind, yet still leaving the parade following behind us.

Having carefully studied the supplied map, we knew exactly where it was we wanted to be. At the critical corner, both rigs in front of us turned south. Excellent. Position Number One! Now our speed dropped to a crawl, and our eyes STRAINED to find an elk. Hoping against hope that the Big Bulls we had seen the previous day from directly across the river might have made a mistake and slipped out of the Wildlife Refuge, we looked for any sign suggesting that, or perhaps even the Bulls themselves. As predicted, the briefing had eaten up a fair amount of the breaking dawn, and we proceeded perhaps an hour or so later than any of us would have preferred.

Topping a little knoll, the driver hit the brakes as we saw a Good six point standing less than 400 yards into the Safe Zone staring at us. Behind him were several more, and all appeared quite relaxed in the knowledge they were Safe from our aspirations. The tracks of the Big Six indicated he had crossed over from the open area mere moments before our arrival. Bummer. We immediately backed off out of sight, then rolled up on a far off vantage point to see what the small herd might do. From there, we could see many more well behind them, perhaps 1200 yards distant, feeding contentedly on the gentle hill tops. As more trucks rushed up to and by the scene (funny - most simply did not appear to even see these animals?) it became quite apparent that these elk were not at all interested in venturing off the Wildlife Reserve. So Close, yet so FAR Away!!

We sat another spell, hoping that situation might improve. During that time, we checked in with Truck Number Two who had headed to the north west section adjacent to where we had spied the herd with the spike the day before. Thought from our experienced crew was where there is one small herd, there are most likely more. Their report was Grim. Trucks had actually passed them at Warp Speed headed to the north east, creating a couple dangerous moments. But, in their favor, none ventured into the area they were looking in. Unfortunately that did not pan out, and they saw not even a single set of tracks on the fresh skiff of snow. So, they were headed east working along the northern boundary and hoping...

Abandoning the herd before us, we wandered back around and south to the border of where we were allowed to hunt. Examining the map, it was immediately clear that only a little less than 1/3 of the base was open to us, but we bolstered our spirits and committed to a Solid Effort. No tracks were seen in that block, so we rolled up again on our high point to verify the bull herd had stayed put. They hadn't. In fact most had slipped over the top of the rolling hills even deeper into the Sanctuary. Sigh.

Now began a slow and winding journey from the south east corner of the open area towards the north west. Although our other Team had not located any elk in that area, armed with GPS coordinates we believed we might. So sights set, off we went. Along the way we encountered some great herds of antelope all largely unconcerned with our presence. The same cannot be said for the mule deer and coyotes encountered, for each was in Full Fly as soon as they saw our rig. Made us wonder if they had been targeted of late? We also ran across small mini-towns constructed I guess to resemble far off potential battlefields. Some were actually quite realistic, and all certainly looked well out of place on the rolling prairie! Even more out of place were the plywood tanks and trucks scattered here and there, lending an almost surrealistic aspect to our wanderings.

As we approached the area we wanted to investigate next, we ran into another road block. Apparently the entire north west corner was another of the No Go zones, and the GPS marker blinked on the screen well inside of that. Damn! Guess that is exactly why those elk were there...

And so we wandered off towards the north east corner, stopping to scope from many high points along the way. More mulies, more antelope, no elk.
Eventually we ran into the same set of tracks heading north off the base we had seen the previous day, and we of course got out to verify that.
Just then a Range Patrol truck came rumbling up from the East, so we flagged him down for a chat. "Nothing taken yet. No amount of tracks seen nor reported in the open areas. Seems they are all inside the protected areas." Not exactly words of encouragement...

We bid them Good Day, and continued our journey east - back the direction from which they had just come. When we arrived at the north east corner and turned south, it was damned apparent the crew we had just met pumped us with misinformation. Tracks all over the road from this morning. Two gut piles from the same. And a chatty fellow who had witnessed the events as the first trucks rolled in there. About 125 elk were out. One bull dropped right there, another hit and made it inside the Refuge (apparently retrieved by the same crew who we had just chatted with?). Most ran back into the Sanctuary, but there was a current Running Gun Battle engaging a herd on the flats and hills to the south west of us. We thanked the fellow, and rolled to a high point towards the southwest. Along the way, we encountered the fellows who had shot the two bulls that morning. They were sitting having coffee just off the road, and we easily identified the two as a 6x6 about 320" and a spike.

From the next vantage point, we could see where trucks had pursued the elk cross-country, and apparently at speed. It wasn't overly difficult to determine their circular flight path in the fresh snow, and the presence of the odd truck parked next to a downed bull confirmed that. Certainly looked like a Gong Show of some sort had occurred! Another truck idled up, and the frustrated hunters inside related their tale of woe. Apparently these two fellows had seen a herd well removed from those that were ambushed right on the road, and decided upon a foot stalk to close on them. They had gotten reasonably close, when the first of about 15+ trucks came roaring across the prairie towards the herd. Deciding to make the best of a worsening situation, they took careful aim, and hit the two largest bulls at about 300 yards. Both bulls remained in the herd, and wobbled over the gentle hill in front of them, accompanied by the roar of near continuous rifle fire. By the time they reached their hit animals, other "hunters" had them tagged and were loading them. WTF?? We were later to learn that a few Bad Actors in the pursuit vehicles had been witnessed actively Flock Shooting into the herd, and that several (including cows) had staggered, wounded, back to the Sanctuary.

Gong Show? Far worse! I recall making the comment This is the Mad Max of Elk Hunting! Get us the hell out of here!!

And so we wandered back down to where the Bachelor Herd was, and sat up on a point where we could study them from a distance. An hour or so before dark, the entire herd made it's way back over the top and slowly fed towards the Wildlife Sanctuary boundary. Not another truck in sight. We called in our second Team, and could tell by their voices they were at least as Frustrated as we were. Advised them to set up on a different hilltop, well away from the herd, and watch. With any luck, they might venture out yet...

Alas that was not to be, but at the last glimmer of light they were still headed in the right direction. Feeding slowly into the wind. Maybe, just maybe they will cross out tonight...

Shocked by some of what we had heard and seen, the ride back to the main gate was solemn. There we learned the "harvest" was in the teens, at least some had collected their bull... some quite apparently by whatever means possible...

500+ kilometers later we arrived back at my Buddy's Hacienda. And so a couple stiff ones to dull the pain, and we reviewed the many calls from others that had also been hunting. Pretty well all reported the same findings, and several noted they were pulling out of the scene and not returning. Although I could not blame them, we never even considered that alternative...

Maybe that Bachelor Herd will come out tonight, and stall long enough in the morning for us to capitalize...

Sleep came Damn Fast even with my consternation at the day's events and the now well enhanced case of Truck Butt struggling to keep me awake...
 
Couple of points I missed from the first day...

When fueling up at the end of the day, we met a rather nice Fellow who although embarrassed, enlightened us to a near miss that same morning...

Somehow he managed to get around to the north of us, and came into the same general area we had decided to land on. He was the only one we encountered who had put the effort in to collect advance intel, and knew right where that Bachelor Herd was positioned. Coming south towards the same spot the first thing in the morning, he encountered a Big Six right beside the road. In his words: "It ran a bit, and we got out in front of it. I got out and got ready, and he ran up right beside us at about 150 yards. And Stopped. I Lined up, and MISSED! He then ran back the way he came, ducked into a coulee, and made the Reserve before we could even get turned around!" Surprised he would even admit to that, we consoled him suggesting anyone can miss, especially so when facing down a 380+ Bull!

It is entirely likely that the tracks and Big Six we first encountered were the same one he was referring to. I'd hazard a guess it would have run mid 380's, and it came exactly from the area the fellow described. That and the sole truck that wandered by us going the other way was most certainly the one he was in. I can only imagine The Pain!

But, that also gave us a little more confidence that just perhaps, one of those Big Boys might make a mistake yet!

The other point: There are exceedingly few trees on that base. So much so that to encounter one is always the subject of amazement. Elk of course have to shed their velvet each and every year. But with no trees...

Most of the fences inside the base (and many along it's perimeter) were in bad need of repair. Not only the wire being knocked loose or simply missing, but the posts themselves looked like Giant Porcupines had been working them over. It took us but a moment or two to put that together - the bulls were using those fence posts as velvet rubbing material! Some were simply rubbed, some hour-glass shaped, and some rubbed right off down to the base!

Here's a short clip that mentions both that, and the results of so many years of the entire lack of management in this particular case:


I'll now get back to the next installment of this tale...
 
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Even though quite weary, I awoke well before the alarm clock went off.
Heard the rustlings of my BC Partner - probably making coffee I thought - and recognized I was not alone in doing so...

Visions of the previous day wandered through my thoughts as I lay there wishing sleep to come back.
How in the hell did we get ourselves involved in this mess dominated my thoughts...
Oh well, let's make the best of it, and I struggled to the kitchen to down a stiff shot of caffeine or two.

The "Hunt" Day Two

Our Crew began this morning just a little more subdued than the previous one. It was becoming quite apparent that a great deal of the rumors we had heard were being discovered to be true, and the task of taking a bull elk - any bull elk - was proving to be quite the undertaking...
Nonetheless, we Manned Up, Saddled Up and soon found our way running North to the next briefing we had to attend.

The Lady had to work that day, so we would be operating solo. Well, not quite, there was one or two others we knew that were attempting to work together. And of course we welcomed that, recognizing any and all help at this point could only be a benefit. Thanks indeed to those who know who you are...

The briefing itself was rather subdued that morning. Most arrived earlyish as opposed to the day before, and the numbers had declined by perhaps nearly half. The semi-depression of the day before seemed almost omnipotent at this point amongst most, and was more or less enhanced when the CO announced that there were "Very Few Elk in the open areas" and "most have actually departed the base". Repeating the murmurs of his staff the day previous...

On the positive side, he also noted that to date, this was "the best group of hunters thus far, with zero infractions recorded, rule compliance was high, and the fact that many of us were noted as working together". Both my Partners shot me a hard glance as if to say "Shaddup" when I sat forward at those remarks, so I shook my head and let it slide...

With fewer in attendance, and most (a couple new FN's had showed) already briefed the day before, the meeting closed just a little earlier than the day before.

When it did though, the Mad Rush once again ensued, but our strategy once again proved sound (despite a near heart attack running to the truck that hard this time!) and we ended up in Position Four for the run up the highway. The same two gates were the only access, and once again the parade commenced north towards them. This time though, the three in front of us had obviously decided to hell with speed limits and Really lit it up! Rolling well in excess of the limit, they drew away from us as we tried to maintain some level of self control...

At the southern gate, we noted that only one of the trucks had continued north, the other two turning in as we did.
The run across the base was somewhat swift, but we did not even bother to keep the front runners in anything more than sight.
We, after all, already had A Plan

Nearing our destination, we saw one of the trucks continue on as we had the previous morning. No idea where the other one went. No Worries.
IF those Bulls had strayed outside their Refuge on the path they had started on at last light the evening before, they should theoretically be to the south. Making that turn, we again slowed to a crawl, and noted that this time the wind was still very much in our favor. Sneaking along as well as a truck is capable of, we closed towards the area we hoped the bulls might still be lingering. The Plan worked, but only to a point.
They certainly were not aware of our approach.
And, they had indeed closed some of the distance towards the Sanctuary boundary. Unfortunately for us, just not quite enough of that distance.

For there, less than 300 yards from that damned border, stood the Ringleaders of the entire Crew!
Their manner strongly suggested they were blissfully unaware of our presence as they continued to feed contentedly.
Immediately we backed off, and made a hasty retreat to an observation point some distance off. While the Bulls continued to feed, we rapidly set up spotting scopes to observe them while hidden below the crest of that hill.
Call The Big One my Alberta Partner whispered.
Front and right, in the lead the reply. Range differential between him and the fence now 382 yards...

Although accompanied by five bulls that would break 375" and several others approaching that, the lead bull simply outclassed them all.
I have a LOT of experience with mature elk, worked in National Parks, hunted the borders of some, much of the East Slopes, BC, Wyoming, Utah and more. The only reason I bring that up is simply to put in perspective my next statement: That 7 x 8 Bull I was staring at through the tube was and is The Biggest I have ever had the fortune to lay my eyes on! An Incredible Animal, packing more weight & lengths in headgear than two of many mature bulls combined. I crunched the numbers a dozen times, and still could not believe what I was coming up with. Un-Effing-Real. And it simply wasn't just the antlers - he literally Towered over those in his company, suggesting a body weight approaching 1,200 pounds.

Shaking my head, I dropped down below the scope to give another buddy a boo. Holy Good Christ were the first words from my BC Partner's lips. aYup!
Grinning, my Alberta Partner whispered What do you think of that?
Whether we shoot or not, these moments just made my trip I murmured back. Never imagined I'd ever see one just like that...

Just then, our waiting game with them was to unfortunately come to an abrupt end. Several trucks came over the hill, and a couple this time could not help but see them. Slamming on their brakes to get a better look, at the exact point that herd was aimed at on the fence, was apparently the right thing to do for two of them under such circumstances. Big Boy and his Crew didn't like that so much, nervously milling around, then slowly wandering back uphill and deeper into the Sanctuary. Heavy Sigh. Knew this might happen under these circumstances. Watched for a rather lengthy spell until they disappeared over the ridge back towards the big river... Lordy...

Well, that gigs up noted my still positive Alberta Buddy. Let's roll...
Still shaking from the latest encounter, I wistfully agreed.
This time we ventured towards the middle of the area we'd wandered the day previous, with a mind's eye of taking advantage of a high hill overlooking a massive flat and lake system we had noted. Along the way we said hello to quite a few more antelope, and waved at several coyotes and the odd mulie as they fled to parts unknown.

The hill in question is likely well known, as it offers an extended view to points north over a rather large expanse.
Rolling up (and of course keeping below the skyline - even with a truck) we took position to scan the many acres laid out in front of us.
Within minutes, my Alberta Partner noted another group of antelope, but my focus was elsewhere.
Above them, to the right, and out another 350 yards I suggested.
Group of 7 or 8 elk. Bulls I believe from body size and posture.
Up with the spotting scopes. Yes. 7 animals. Unless two have mini-spikes - five bulls, a cow & a calf.
Size? queried my Buddy. Careful scrutiny. Distance 1600 yards. Max magnification. None will break 300. Raghorns.
What do you think?
Let's get on top of them and decide...

There was a small range of hills between us and the little herd we could see from our vantage point.
If all went well, we should be able to get within 300 - 400 yards.
Agreed & Rolling.
Somewhere behind that ridge we took a minor diversion. By the time we got back on track the little herd was nowhere to be seen.
Then the rattle of rifle fire. Two distinct, then a volley. Then another...
Oh Oh.
From the next vantage point it was easy to see what had happened. We were close, but the little herd got nervous due to two trucks coming from the north. So they had turned east towards the Sanctuary and ran into a Gauntlet. Two were down and trucks closing in. Five more trucks were in pursuit, but it was more than obvious the elk would win that particular race...

Sheesh!

After witnessing this, we decided to abandon the area and set out to explore what little of the base we had not laid eyes on to this point.
Getting away from The Madness seemed of utmost importance to all of us at that point, and as always, we let our instincts lead the way.

Funny thing about instincts, sometime they steer you right, but occasionally they veer the opposite direction.
As we ventured further north and slightly east, fog decided to roll in.
At first just distorting the horizon, but within less than an hour descending like a wall and reducing visibility to 50 yards or less.
Great. Out with the tracking skills...

Over the course of the next several hours, we moved rather slowly, looking for sign, and often wandering trails with week's old vehicle passage marking their way. We did see tracks. Mulies. Antelope. Coyotes. Even managed to jump a good sized flock of sharptails (and MAN that brought back reminiscence and tales of years past!).
The few & only elk? Days old. Hmmm...

Eventually we made the conscious decision to return to where we'd seen The Giant.
That too took a spell, and when we got to the observation post, the fog still prevented us from looking where we needed to.
Screw it. Sit Tight. We did. And just before last light, the fog decided to give us a break...

Again that last effort was rewarded by another sighting of the Big Boy and his Crew. Followed by a good handful of their Followers.
Hmmm... Showing a similar pattern. KeRist! Almost wish they would Go Away at this point! :rolleyes:

When the blackness consumed all, we made our retreat. The Big Bulls were once again within 400 yards of the fence...
And once again, we knew exactly where...

As we rolled out that night, late (of course) we learned that two of the three bulls harvested that day were the accidental results of our efforts.
Somehow that actually made us feel a little better...

Another 500+ kilometers. Stiffer rums. One day left forthcoming.
All intel we can gather suggest failure is imminent.
We simply cannot accept that synopsis...

Worsening case of Truck Butt. Codeine is your friend...
 
I awoke once again quite early this, our final day.
Not due to anticipation this time, but rather the aches and pains of both body and mind.
The body in that my butt now felt like I had been dropped 30 feet onto it - directly onto concrete, and every joint was now singing it's own little tune of resentment.
The mind chewing on much of what we had seen & been told - the five dead cows we had wandered across the day previous (and the fact that no-one seemed to want to know or care), the antics of some of our fellow "hunters", the understanding that some elk had managed to make it back into the Refuge - only to die a slow lingering death there, the overt misinformation and seemingly lack of concern among those overseeing this "hunt" - all this and more dominated my waking thoughts, and I felt the early warning signs of an intense bout of heartburn setting in...

Stumbling to the kitchen, I washed down several Tums with strong black coffee, and openly wondered just what the presence of a potential 100 more guns would bring to the coming day. Our Crew worked each other hard - trying to rebuild some of the Confidence & Anticipation we had enjoyed just a couple short mornings ago. So it was that within moments, and after a few headshakes, we managed to somehow convince our spirits to rise to the task at hand and make the best of the situation we possibly could...

Despite our grim reports, The Lady decided she would take in at least the morning of our final day. So once again we squished into our chariot, and began the pilgrimage towards the briefing hall a few miles north.

The "Hunt" - Day Three

The scene was chaotic upon our arrival. Whereas the day previous, the parking lot had still offered room when the meeting was called to order, it was strikingly obvious this was not to be the case today. Although an hour early yet again, the lot was full, and trucks were circling - some simply looking for a place to park, others jockeying for the best position from which to launch in the upcoming race. Thankfully for our aspirations, no-one had recognized our particular strategy, and we managed to park the two rigs in our own preferred launch site.

The line up ran right outside the doors this time, and many were attempting to fill out their required forms in the jostling crowd.
Initial registration took much longer than any day previous due to the large increase in numbers, and it was a considerable while before the meeting could be called to order as a consequence. A quick head count at that point suggested around 180 were in attendance for the briefing this morning.

The briefing itself was much more detailed than the previous two days, and you could simply sense the levels of apprehension and frustration building. That certainly wasn't alleviated when the CO announced that the southern most block - an area locally know as The Bowling Alley would not be opened this date - due to an angry submission by a local landowner who noted hunting pressure had caused many elk to destroy the fence adjacent to his property there, and the elk to take up residence for several days following. That announcement was accompanied by a lot of heavy sighs when it was openly admitted that there was a recognizable elk presence there, but "not a lot in most of the open areas". The matter was then compounded by the CO's announcement that another, unrelated area would also be closed off this date. No reason forthcoming, just that it was to be closed. That generated a fair bit of debate, and eventually the CO backed down on that proposal due to the fact the area simply was not delineated on the maps they had just handed out. Bizarre!!

While we had thought the dispersal following the briefing to be Lunacy the previous two days, we simply were not prepared for what would occur this morning! It was quite obvious that many of the cow hunters were extremely eager to get out there asap, and the ensuing scramble would have been almost comical in another situation. Our strategy continued to pay off to some extent, and we found ourselves in Position 8 as we rolled out onto the highway.

This however was not to be the somewhat orderly procession to the gates of the previous dates. Nope - more akin to actions any stock car rally would be proud of! The front-runners kicked into High Gear. Even running about 10 clicks over the speed limit, they soon left the majority in their dust. Suddenly the entire procession was stalled by the glaring of flashing overhead crosswalk lights. Those closest simply hammered on the gas, and surged through the intersection in a desperate attempt to catch those rapidly disappearing over the distant horizon. As we idled down and stopped, two trucks well behind literally roared into the left (turning) lane and raced tight up to the small crowd of children and adults crossing the road. WTF? The instant the last child was no longer directly in front of them, they launched HARD, illegally passing us and several others in their bid to be First. Unbelievable!!

The race continued towards the gates, and as far as we could determine, all but two trucks turned to the east at the first one as was our plan.
Position 8 (?) at this point.
At the first road south, only two carried on east, the rest running hard towards the newly opened areas to the south. Position 3.
At the critical intersection that followed, both rigs in front of us continued east. Excellent. Position One!

We decided to hit our vantage point rather than roll right up on where we thought the Big Bulls might be.
Upon arrival there, our hearts immediately sank.
They there were, most feeding contentedly, some lying down, all just shy of being sky-lined about 1100 yards into the Sanctuary.
Hmmm...
As we sat watching, a literal parade soon wandered down the road below and between us and the bulls. Once again we marveled how they simply did not seem to see that herd, as they all continued south at a pretty good pace without slowing. The elk seemingly paid no attention to that intrusion, likely recognizing they were entirely safe where they now stood. We continued our vigil for perhaps another hour, until the last of the Big Boys wandered over the top, deeper into the Sanctuary, and forever out of our hopes and aspirations.

It's Over I mumbled. But what the hell, let's go do a tour of the "new" areas they opened up today. If nothing else we will get to see some territory we haven't looked at yet. Decision made, we rolled slowly southwards into new-to-us terrain. Along the way we took advantage of numerous high points to engage our powerful optics and sweep the vistas for sighs of life. More groups of antelope. Mulies, and for whatever reason, quite a bit less spooky down here than the northern areas. The coyotes however reacted as if we were the Four Horsemen intent on doing them great harm, and streaked away immediately upon every sighting. And tracks. Elk tracks...

Of course we investigated the tracks every time we encountered them quite carefully. Most were from the previous evening or even earlier than that. And so the morning rolled on. We saw trucks scattered here and there, most simply creeping along or parked on vantage points - seeking.
One set of tracks we encountered looked to be a fair bit fresher, so we studied them at length. Yeah - this morning. 25 elk, no big boots. Likely cows & calves, but WTH, best sign we've seen in the open areas, and btw, wandering directly away from the nearest No Go zone. Worth a look...

Thus began a series of winding loops, utilizing the roads to intercept the small herd's passage where they crossed in their wandering.
As the morning wore on the tracks became increasingly fresh, and it was obvious to us they were using the rolling terrain to their maximum advantage so as to not be seen from any nearby roads. Finally they crossed over yet another hill above a wide and lengthy valley encompassing a couple of lakes. We quickly determined we were at most fifteen to twenty minutes behind them at this point, so locating a small trail we approached the hilltop vantage point. There, on the far side of the valley against a range of hills stood the herd. Quickly mounting the spotting scope I noted "mostly cows & calves alright. A unicorn - single horned spike that is quite small, and a normal spike considerably larger." As we studied them from 1200 yards out, a pick-up appeared on the valley floor well behind them. Two folks got out, dressed in the mandatory orange, and began walking rapidly and directly at the herd across the wide open? Huh? These fellas were at least 1,000 yards distant, but the herd spied them immediately and began to slowly trickle away from them along the valley floor...

Well? my Alberta Friend queried. Let's get back down this hill, out of sight, and get well around out in front of them my reply.
At that point we called our second team, hoping to get them in on any possible action.
They were too far, but working their way now towards us. Onwards...

As we skirted the hill and slowly made our way towards the road perhaps 600 yards off, we agreed the plan was solid.
Going to shoot that spike my Partner's asked? Given half a chance was my reply, but it will be tricky with that many others with him...
Suddenly to our right another spike appeared out of nowhere? WTF? Just where the hell did he come from?
Any sane individual would have immediately stopped affording the Shooter an opportunity at the rapidly fleeing little bull.
For whatever reason, sanity went out the window, and my BC Partner gunned the Toyota's engine.
He later explained he was attempting to put us on a small rise a short distance away so as to afford the longest possible sight window.
Unfortunately that did not happen. In his haste, he lost the trail, but knowing where the main road was, made for that with speed...

Something I have yet to mention was the preponderance of tank tracks pretty well everywhere one goes on the base, and certainly the vast majority of hilltop vantage points. Some of these tracks cut rather deeply into the prairie, often as much a a foot plus deep.

Unbeknownst to us, there were a series of three such sets of tank tracks running parallel between us and the road we were aimed at.
Contact with the first set was realized a tad better than 30 miles per hour. The Toyota leapt wildly into the air, and then crashed back down with a vengeance.
At that point everything goes quite bleary for me. My Buddy's foot landed FIRMLY on the gas pedal upon landing, sending us bouncing into the next set of tank tracks at a rapidly accelerating rate. Again airborne, the sensation was much akin to what I imagine a piece of popcorn goes through inside a popcorn maker on full roar! We then hit the third and deepest set, still accelerating, and the resulting LEAP was nothing shy of Spectacular!

Somewhere in this Madness, my Weatherby decided to try and leave the scene via my open window. Desperately grabbing it, I only managed to do so after the forearm tore the weatherstripping right off the upper window. As I hauled it back into my clutches, the truck took another huge leap, causing the stock to collide most firmly with my upper right thigh. Instant explosion of PAIN. Then my right hand was slammed into the window frame, rifle behind it, creating an instantaneous bruise across the back of my shooting hand the size of an apple. OUCH! The final insult to injury was the little button on the top of my camo hunting cap force-ably attempting to penetrate my skull and visit my nether regions! KeRist!! In a world of hurt, and eyes full of water, the driver finally comprehended the Screams of For Christs Sake STOP emanating from both me and our Alberta Buddy in the back seat. Pounding on the brakes, the truck slid to a stop, and I attempted to leap as far away as possible from that Demon Truck! And of course my full weight landed on my mangled right leg, forcing me to drop for an instant...

Attempting to shrug off the pain, I staggered to my feet to see the little wide eyed bull (after witnessing that rodeo, I had No Question in my mind as to why his eyes were so dishpan HUGE!) streaking along about 275 out, nearly broadside.
Under most conditions I have no issue making such a shot. Those who have grown up hunting the prairies will well recognize what I say here.
As I lined up, blinking the tears away, I tried desperately to calm my shattered nerves. Right... About... There...
The Weatherby rolled back in my arms, and I instantly knew that while the lead was perfect, I had sent the round under the bugger's chest.
Then he was gone.
Dammit!
Call the shot I cried. Cleanly under the brisket. Chit.
Let him go I replied. Back to that herd on the other side of the hill. By now, another truck had seen the single spike, and they set off after him in Hot Pursuit. Good Luck you little Bugger I recall thinking. You've Earned It!!

We checked the truck over, and amazingly enough we could find no damage (realizing later the only casualties were the windrow trim and a wheel alignment). Damn Tough Rig! I honestly believe mine certainly would have disintegrated!!

With the word to our driver: Do NOT make a move without clearance, we hit the road, and boogied a fair ways down alongside the hill we had so recently departed. Hoping the elk on the other side and across the valley had not been perturbed overly much by the rodeo they obviously could not see. When we encountered a trail that slipped into a small notch in that hill, we approached with caution. At this point, were all things to be equal, we should enter the valley better than 1000 yards out in front and across the valley from the herd we were attempting to close on. Yup. There they were, still moving slowly up the range of hills on the far side. And, now close to 2,000 yards back behind them still came the Walkers??

The white truck we were in blended nicely with the snow and it was obvious the elk were entirely unaware of our presence. Perched low down on the hill, we began to analyze the situation. Small range of hills on the valley floor in front of them and between us. Here's hoping they swing that way, and head in our direction. Just then a truck appeared atop of the range of hills behind them. The elk simply paused, then continued at a stroll, but had indeed altered their direction - right towards us. Then another truck parked further down on top of the same range. That moved the elk to a trot. Not running, but that mile eating gait they are so famous for...

When they disappear behind those knolls, move closer along the base of the hills on our side I directed our driver. At the very first sign of them stop IMMEDIATELY. Got it. The elk disappeared. We rolled about 400 yards. The first head appeared at our end of the knolls, and we slid to a stop behind another small knoll. I bailed and readied myself, trying to pick the larger of the two spikes out from among the many cows and calves. Got him. No Shot. Too many bodies around and behind him. Hold...
The little herd then crested another small hill which formed the base of the range on our side of the valley. Range Them I cried, while grabbing my own finder at the same time. 310 yards the reply. Mine read 297. Close enough.

Just then, the lead cow stepped on the brakes. Something ain't right I could almost hear her thoughts. That caused the main body to do the same, some twenty yards out behind their leaders. A quick check on the Walkers. Well hidden behind the knolls the elk had departed and a large angle away from the herd in front of us. As the two groups stalled out, the larger of the two spikes stepped right cleanly into the opening between them, then stopped almost facing me. The Weatherby is sighted in for 300 yards, and very much likes that range. In less than 1/10th of a second, the 180 grain Nosler Partition was on it's way. No Visible Effect? WTF?!?

As the herd now resumed their trot up the hill, I tried desperately to find a clean window to send another round through. Nope.
Did you see that hit behind him? I cried to my Crew. NO! I believe I heard it hit the reply.
Hmmm...
Tracking the young bull well inside the herd, he suddenly began to drop back - fast.
Before the final cows made it past him, he was folded up and down.
Down for the count that is. The bullet had struck exactly where I had aimed.

High Fives, and we wandered over to investigate. A Fine Young Bull, and likely as tender vittles as a man could ever ask for!!
Grinning, I rolled the little bull over and began to clean him. My Alberta Partner then deemed me The Happiest Spike Killer in the Province of Alberta. And at that point, after all we had been through, I Really Was!

Still complying with the No Photo Rule prevented us from taking any pictures at the kill site itself, but we did a little set-up a while later outside the base simply to capture the moment:

Spike_2.jpg


While my BC Buddy & I attended to the task at hand, our Alberta Partner re-established contact with our second Team.
They had gotten reasonably close, and ended up tracking the herd as they circled and wound their way back into the Sanctuary.
Along their path, three of the cows met with hunters and were being loaded up. The balance now deep inside Safe Haven.
Our Team Two Commander had a matter come up he had to deal with quite shortly, so we hooked up, and collected The Lady who now assumed my previous position of Shooter in the Shotgun Seat.

Recognizing our tracking strategy had paid off, we set about with the same in mind. One two hour working of three sets of tracks (one HUGE) ended up in a very recent gutpile, and the smaller two sets of tracks wandering off. Another set put us on a cow calf combination, and a third, a big old solo cow in a very crafty hidey hole. Again, multitudes of antelope were encountered, more Mulies, and more Rocket Coyotes.

Along the way, we also found yet another dead cow, and one that had been gutshot. The latter was poised on a hill, and doing quite poorly. It took everything our Crew could do to persuade me from finishing her off, something I still haven't quite gotten completely over...

The hours raced by as we used our collective expertise to try and put The Lady in a shooting position. Towards early evening, we once again set up on the Big Bulls for 1/2 hour, noting they were still quite content on their hilltop haven, and showing no signs of wandering from there.

Darkness eventually found us up to the north east corner, but alas, although we did encounter more wildlife, none resembled an elk of any sort.

At the main gate upon departure, we learned that two "good" bulls had been taken that morning by the two trucks which had continued east in front of us, and another smaller one by another fellow coming down into that area from the north. Funny thing about what "good" means to some people. When I asked the technician if he knew anything about Boone & Crockett Scoring, his reply was "sort of". When I then asked if the two "good ones" would make 400" or better, he replied No, but they are all of 380". We later determined that a good friend, a well experienced guide had personally checked out both of those bulls. Neither will break 320" was his assessment. And it turned out that our spike was the fourth of only four taken that day.

Regardless, the little spike was something of a Trophy to me. He has indeed turned out to be the best eating elk I have ever taken, and the first spike of my elk hunting career. My Alberta Buddy already had some fine eating elk in the freezer, so a full half of this one went into my BC Buddy's hands.

Despite our weariness, we celebrated well into the morning again, and my Title of Happiest Spike Killer was reaffirmed many times. ;)

It took us a couple of days to wind down, during which we visited a few local Buddies and simply relaxed.

The journey home was broken up by visiting yet another long lost Friend in Calgary for the eve, then a blistering run over the mountains.
Certainly was an "interesting" ride home through which the weather constantly shifted from damn near white out to near clear skies:

Homeward.jpg


Homeward_2.jpg


And amazingly enough, we managed to roll right onto the 3:00pm Ferry in Vancouver, getting us home at a decent hour (for a change).

I still feel the effects both physically and mentally of this particular run. Some of that is entirely unlikely to ever fade.

And so this concludes the "Hunt" portion of my report.
Ahhh... But there is indeed more to come. I have some thoughts, some concerns, and musings that I plan on sharing regarding this entire scenario...
 
And now it's time to put some of my final thoughts on this matter to bed...
There will follow some rather strong words & opinions, so reader be warned - do not proceed further if you are concerned at all about your blood pressure level!

Although many were opposed to rounding up the wild horses on the base and getting rid of them once and for all, it was agreed between the Provincial & Military management teams that was the proper way to proceed. For the purposes of those who own and operate the Base, perhaps it was. For those living around the base... well... at least the horses could recognize a fence...

The concept behind the re-introduction of elk to the prairies, and establishment of their self-sustaining presence there, was both a bold and worthy undertaking. Those who originally set about this project with the most honorable of intentions are to be commended! And I take my hat off to you Gentlemen for this most admirable accomplishment! :cool:

Unfortunately, the actions (and specific lack thereof) since that re-establishment have dictated the program degenerated into the most unmitigated wildlife "management" Catastrophe in the history of the Province...

While the re-introduction was a considerable success, MUCH more attention should have been paid to remedial and management planning before it ever got underway. It does not require Rocket Science when simply logic alone can quite readily predict just what the results of combining superior genetics, access to extremely rich and bounteous food sources, and a complete lack of depredation would spell for the developing herd. Explosive, near exponential growth was soon realized, and yet despite the rather obvious "warning signs", nothing was brought forward by the "management" team to address that. Within a matter of a few short years, the supposed "carrying capacity" number of 800 elk was exceeded, yet still blind eyes were turned towards the worsening situation. When the elk topped four, then five Thousand, incidences of spill over outside the base and related conflicts with adjacent landowners began to sky rocket. Despite demands by those negatively effected, once again "management" drug it's feet and little was conducted beyond lip-service to address their very real concerns.

Eventually this came to a head, as it had no other possibility of doing under these circumstances...

Prairie Fire - Alberta's Scorched Earth Policy Towards Suffield Elk

Thankfully the option of a major round-up and subsequent slaughter of the Base's elk was dismissed in early discussions.
However, dismissing the suggestion of moderately large capture & relocation programs to other locales within Alberta to bolster diminished populations or establish new ones soon followed. As previously stated, it is this author's opinion that was a drastic mistake. The reasons provided by management for that decision were expressed as there being a possibility of disease introduction / broadcasting to the areas of introduction. This despite the Fact that not a SINGLE incident of CWD, Tuberculosis or Brucellosis had EVER been recorded in any Suffield elk. Many, myself included, consider this dismissal to be one of the greatest "Missed Opportunities" regarding elk management in the Province of Alberta as a whole - and one that would have put the Suffield re-introduction program squarely back into the Beneficial side of the equation.

By 2012, the elk herd was recognized to have expanded to over 5,000 individuals, and finally, management stepped up to the task at hand. Their vision was that hunting could and would knock the numbers down to a more reasonable level, and help maintain it there. Indeed a worthwhile pursuit. But then the decision was made to "stratify" the hunt by allowing First Nations "Subsistence" Hunters in prior to non-aboriginal Hunters, with no restrictions placed on numbers or ### the FN's could harvest, yet restricting their non aboriginal counterparts to 50 on-base hunters at a time and targeting cows only. That action fueled resentment and outrage among many of the latter group, and articles such as the one linked below became increasingly common as they chose to express their displeasure towards this development:

http://www.calgarysun.com/2015/02/03/racking-up-rage--outrage-and-resentment-growing-over-two-tiered-elk-hunt-on-cfb-suffield

Adding fuel to the fire... In their initial hunts, First Nations showed a decided preference for the larger mature bulls over the cows, taking 469 bulls vs 151 cows. It became readily apparent that many involved viewed these as "exclusive" Trophy Hunts rather than subsistence meat gathering events. And, from the sudden preponderance of "trophy photos" appearing on social media sites, at least some among this latter group were quite prepared to gloatingly rub salt in that already festering wound.

Despite that year's FN harvests, 200 cow tags let for non-aboriginal hunters on the base, and an increased number of tags outside / adjacent to the base, it was soon recognized that the recruitment (calving) rate easily surpassed that of harvest, and the herd continued to grow. This spurred an increase in tag numbers all around, but still incorporated the despised race-based stratification between the two hunting camps. In fact, it was not until the 2015 fall season that changes were finally made to the hunt stratification which would allow non-aboriginal hunters access to bull tags.

Hunter behavior during the initial hunts was quite ethical and safety conscious in comparison to more recent years, likely a refection of their lower numbers. With increasing tag numbers let and increasing FN participation, behavior entered into a near precipitous free fall. In the words of the article cited above: Hence, the need to kill them off by the hundreds, in what many have deemed a dangerous, chaotic cull, rather than a true hunt.
Dangerous indeed as witnessed by the occasion of a rifle bullet punching through the driver's door of a hunter's truck the very day after our Crew left the base.
One of a great many "close calls".
In very much is a wonder, under the conditions described, how no-one has been seriously hurt, or killed to date.

Controversy surrounding these "hunts" continued to be predominant in most discussions about them. First hand reports of FN "hunters" shooting from trucks on the fly, driving at speed around any perceived competition, flock shooting with excessive realized wounding rates, leaving dead / crippled elk behind in the frenzied pursuit of killing as many as possible - then failing to locate / retrieve wounded individuals that had moved any distance from those initially killed, running elk herds to the point of collapse - then executing every individual in the herd, "hunting" for multiple days while carcasses piled in the backs of trucks and on trailers were continuously exposed to excessive heat and dust, and of course much more, became a routine occurrence. Certainly not all the reports of abuse (for there can be no other word for such behavior) were directed towards nor focused on FN's. Simply due to their sheer numbers (often completely overwhelming those of non aboriginal participants) they were the recipient of in kind greater numbers of such reports. That said, it should be noted that at least an equal representation of non-aboriginal "hunters" were witnessed conducting themselves in the exact same manner.

On the topic of hunter numbers, it was noted that for non-aboriginal hunters they would be held to no more than 100 persons hunting at a time (with obvious overlaps between the bull & cow hunters under this year's regime). The reason for doing so was cited as chiefly based on Safety. The FN's however were governed by no such limitation, and arrived en masse at the majority of the earlier openings - at times outnumbering their counterparts by as much as three or four times. The sheer numbers of combined hunters entering the fray fairly well precluded that their resulting activities could be well described as a desperate race of sorts, with caution, safety and ethics simply tossed aside for a great many in both camps. Dangerous mixture under any circumstances, quite truthfully chaotic and repugnant behavior on the part of far too many participants.

Earlier I noted my questioning of the No Photo Policy upon the Base. For as suggested then, one can easily zoom right in with Google Earth and collect a rather fine view of pretty much any location on the base you wish to. Upon reflection, I have come to the conclusion that perhaps that rule was imposed not so much as to prevent prying enemy eyes from seeing what they shouldn't, but perhaps much more so to prevent the documentation of the type of activities outlined above from being presented front and center in the general public's eye. For most certainly such images would have resulted in a public outcry to end these "hunts", or at least to manage them in a much more responsible manner.

During the briefing we attended, some of the above points were alluded to, albeit in a tangential manner. Numerous infractions from this year alone were cited which resulted in equipment seizures, charges & subsequent hunting prohibitions, and actual lifetime bans from entering the base. As was the at times 40 % recovery rate of all elk taken during a particular hunt represented by wounded animals being shot, and recovered from Out Of Bounds Areas by base personnel. That fit right in with our understanding that should you not get your elk, or perhaps did not even hold a tag but were willing to sit idle at the check out station for a day or two, those recovered without an obvious claimant might well fall into your hands. On local fronts, it was interesting to observe that elk meat was readily available for purchase in local Communities, and that indeed, if you did your homework, so might well be a rack from a good sized bull.

The vast majority of such behavior is Intolerable for a true Hunter in my opinion. A fair amount of what we witnessed made my blood fairly boil. Those I mentioned previously that were observed flock shooting into a herd on the run in the desperate attempt to put down a bull - any bull - were not aboriginal. And while I understand that was happening among their hunting crews as well, methinks many who decried such actions might want to take a good long & hard look at their own. We saw very little in the way of "ethics", and damn near a complete lack of concern for safety or the hopes and desires of others. It very much was Every Man For Himself among the vast majority present, something that rather Sickened the Crew I was in attendance with. This simply has never been the way we conduct ourselves, and it felt damn near shameful to recognize we had become a part of this complete travesty.

In the larger picture of things, the Base may have actually pulled off more or less what they were looking for, and at least some of the surrounding ranchers are breathing a little sigh of relief as a consequence. While the Base recorded some 1,600 kills, I am suggesting it was MUCH higher than that. Certainly those killed on the base were track-able, and certainly that number is likely very close to being sound. What they fail to take into consideration is the number killed off base this year. Perhaps if "management" would take the time to cultivate any sort of reasonable relationship with area landowners, they might begin to grasp the nature of those impacts. Many I spoke to when there, and since arriving home, describe the same pattern: They were simply Sick of the lack of response to their pleas to Do Something, sick of the cost to themselves and their neighbors of the consequences of that, and subsequently resolved to take the matter on themselves as best they were able. And when that entailed inviting FN hunters to their properties to annihilate any and all elk found there, they were in agreement. Get 'Er Done. And it was. From what I now understand, I believe the off base kill may actually exceed the number removed from the base itself this year...
Combine these factors with the stress of the later season hunts causing many cows to abort (which has indeed been well documented in other areas) and the overall kill, and it's effects on the elk population as a whole, may well have tipped the balance far beyond what was being sought.

Combine that again with the number that fled in sheer panic. Confirmed reports put some herds as far to the east as the Sand Hills in Saskatchewan. Others well past Manyberries, over to Milk River Ridge and the Cypress Hills. Others still well beyond the areas north of the base, and some still going. The only area I am uncertain of at this point is to the immediate (and further) west of the base, as I know but few in that direction. Some bio-types and some base staff suggest these elk will eventually return. They have failed to incorporate the nature of the beast when it comes to elk. These are not entirely stupid animals, and they tend to learn rather quickly from adverse conditioning. Those that did not learn died. Those that chose to stay knew & still realize just where to hang their hat in order to avoid that same fate. And those that left were well conditioned to the fact that vehicles, and loud Bangs, represent a Very Serious Problem for them. Suffield is a military base after all. Complete with a myriad of vehicles, and at times, one hell of a lot of loud bangs. Anyone who believes the ones that escaped will return anytime soon to that particular environment might well want to think again!

There will be a census conducted shortly now to determine just how many elk remain. From what our rather experienced crew saw while there, I'd be quite hesitant to suggest there were anywhere near a thousand left on base, including the Sanctuary & OOB areas. From what the locals so willingly have informed me, the immediately adjacent areas are damn near devoid of them. For many days following the last January hunts, several of my experienced Buddies and a handful of Ranchers took time out from their regular schedules to have a good look. The areas around the base were subsequently described as "barren", and further the areas they could see upon the base itself held "damn few". I will be watching for the results of this survey with anticipation, although I am reasonably certain as to it's outcome.

The Big Boy I referred to in the tale above exists, as do his lieutenants. They have obviously become conditioned to the Insanity that has swept in around them, and well know how to avoid that. I find it more than a little disturbing to recognize that they represent The Last of their kind. The tattered remnants of what actually was until just so recently ago, the Largest Free Range Herd of Elk in North America. I sincerely hope they all survive the winter well, and carry on to produce a healthy crop of followers...

My involvement in this "hunt" was based upon the understanding that there were some real Giants walking our prairie there, and that perhaps one could actually pursue them in a realistic hunt format. That, combined with a yen to see the lands of the base first hand after hunting around them for so many years. Upon retrospect, I wish I had not gone. Yes, I managed a good eating youngster under most trying conditions. There is nothing to "congratulate" for that in my opinion. It was simple fluke. And I must admit, participating in this Fiasco (for that is most certainly what the entire show was) has left me with a bit of a bitter taste in my mouth, and a sincere questioning of many who call themselves "Hunters".

This was NOT a "Hunt" by any definition. Nor was it a "Cull" as suggested by some. I have been directly involved in real culls wherein Professional Shooters were engaged to deal with the task at hand. This very much was a "herd reduction" experiment. Uncontrolled Mayhem. An experiment that may have realized the "reduction" component, but in any other consideration a Complete Failure in many people's eyes.

Should the base re-open in the future (and there is some cause for doubt of that), I will not be back. Although there were a few interesting moments, I simply cannot wash away all the negative connotations that go with them. For those that still wish to wander there, Good Luck, Fill Your Boots, Put On your blinders as to ethics, and for ChriSakes don't forget your bullet proof vest!

I did not set out to make any friends with this last installment, simply calling the situation as I saw and see it.
Some will have had obviously differing experiences and therefore conclusions.
Mine are firm, and I can only Hope that "management" might be listening... for a change...

And NONE of that is anywhere near "Cheery"
Nog
 
Epic mate epic. Appreciated the story first hand but your post is alot more nuanced and complete. Thanks for posting Nog.
 
... What was Suffield's name prior to the change after WW I?

Well then
.. Around the end of WWII the area in question changed from The Tilley East Area to the Experimental Station Suffield.
Took a little land expropriation and sheckles to make that happen, but it did. And from that evolved into the Base we know today.

Prior to those events, the major "town" (as referenced still by road markers on the Base) was named Bingo... err.. Pardon me - correction Bingville.

Further back than that, I am not so certain I can pronounce them... ;)

Cheers,
Nog
 
After going through orientation I wouldn't post any pics of the base on line, but that's just my thought. I have hunted out there twice and never took a pic either time. I did take 2 Elk in Feb 2015 and not a pic taken and I'm still eating the meat now. I live 25km away and this is a secure base and pics are a no no. If a guy did a photo op off sight with the kill I guess it would be fine.
 
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Excellent write up and enjoyable read! I have spent many a cold frozen day rolling around out there, dreaming of hunting some of the big boys you see during training. Now, not so sure I would enjoy it at all. I'll stick to my memories. Especially appreciate your candor at the end of the report, thanks for sharing!
 
What was Suffield's name prior to the change after WW I?

I stand corrected! "Carlstadt" was the name of the initial Community, which later was changed to Alderson.
Here's a link providing some details: http://www.ghosttownpix.com/alberta/alder.html

And another which the fellow who asked the question might find interesting:
http://www.albertaonrecord.ca/david-c-jones-carlstadt-alderson-photographs-collection

Interesting piece of history about the area I was unaware of!

Didn't you post this on AO??? Why here too?

A Buddy asked me to. Why do you ask??

... I live 25km away and this is a secure base and pics are a no no. If a guy did a photo op off sight with the kill I guess it would be fine.

We understood and adhered to their request in that regard. The pictures we took were all shot off the base. Yes, some were "looking in", but nothing that anyone driving by any day of the week would not see. If you carefully read what I noted about the pictures, you will see I mentioned that several times.

Thanks for the kind words Folks. Glad you enjoyed the read...

Cheers,
Nog
 
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