Cheap elk hunt turned expensive
A friend recently returned from what he described as the elk hunt from Hades, minus the euphemism.
He requested anonymity because his failure to apply due diligence embarrasses him, but he said he wants his experience to benefit others.
After he described the entire misadventure, I asked him how much he paid for his hunt. The price was $2,200, not including food. That should have been the first clue that it was not going to be a high-quality trip. Depending on the antler size of the bull you want to kill, you can expect to pay $5,000$15,000 for a guided elk hunt.
My friend’s trip was scheduled to last five days. He and his companion quit after one day.
“My advice for anybody planning a trip like that is to ask a lot of questions before you go,” he said. “Don’t leave anything to chance.”
A second clue might have been dramatic news reports of wildfires rampaging across Colorado. My friend and his companion arrived to find northern Colorado reeling from drought.
“I could have thrown a lit match off the porch and burned up the whole county,” he said. “Everything was bone dry. Not a drop of moisture anywhere.”
With little to eat or drink, there was no game in the area. My friend said that all of the elk were still in the high country, but a big snowstorm brewing would push them down lower. They encountered only one cow elk in the high country, and she was a far distance away.
“That was it, man. We didn’t see a single elk track or any other sign. We didn’t even see any deer. Next time I book a hunt, I will be in contact weekly with the outfitter wanting to know what he’s seen. I’ll want to see recent pictures. I don’t care what you saw in August or September. I want to know what you’re seeing now.”
Upon reaching their destination, the outfitter put my friend and his companion in less than inspiring lodging. The hunt consisted of driving around mountain roads looking for elk.
“Some of these guys own 20 acres, and their idea of a ‘guided’ hunt is putting their clients out on public land, which is what this guy did,” my friend said.
It got worse. My friend’s companion went out with a different guide and a second hunter. He was an older man, not in the best health or in particularly good physical condition. The guide and the second hunter were younger and in better shape. The companion couldn’t keep up with them, so the guide told him to hunt close to the truck while he and the other guy went overland.
At sunset, the temperature plummeted. My friend’s companion wasn’t worried because he brought a sleeping bag and left it in the guide’s truck. He returned to the truck to find it locked. Considerable time passed without the guide and the other hunter returning, and hypothermia became a threat. He was unable to get a call through to my friend who was safe and warm back at the lodge, but he did manage to deliver a text message.
My friend, a big guy who can be quite persuasive when provoked, persuaded his guide to go out and find his companion. Fortunately, he knew the general location where he was hunting. My friend said they went up a remote mountain road into the high country that got narrower and rougher until it finally diminished into a goat trail. They found the companion waiting at the truck. His guide and the other hunter still had not returned.
“We got him back to the lodge and warmed him up,” my friend said. “We were watching the weather on TV, and it was about to get bad with snow. We made the call right then that we didn’t want to be snowed in for a week on a goat ranch with no elk anywhere around. We loaded up the truck and got out of there that night.”
My friend’s advice for prospective elk hunters is to thoroughly research an outfitter. Call other clients for recommendations.
“You’ll find out pretty quick if somebody’s on the up and up,” he said. “There are a lot of great outfitters out there, and I don’t think these guys represent the profession by any stretch. I hate to say it, but we kind of dropped our guard with this one, and it was an expensive mistake.”