Persistence pays off for elk hunter
Dan Vandertie grew up on the dairy farm in Brussels, Wisconsin, that he and his wife, Julie, now own and run.
It was there he learned to hunt, mostly small game but also some deer.
It's also where Vandertie, 56, still lives and does most of his hunting. Owners of small dairy farms don't get paid time off.
He normally fits his hunting between the morning and evening milking of the farm's 35 cows.
Elk hunting? More like the stuff of dreams.
For starters, the animals weren't even present in the Badger State for most of his life.
A 1995 reintroduction changed that.
But the first regulated elk hunt in Wisconsin history wasn't held until this year as the northern herd grew to more than 200.
And even then, the odds of drawing one of four tags offered through the Department of Natural Resources lottery were about one in 9,500.
But Vandertie, with the help of his 25-year-old daughter, Karlee, decided to take a shot and submitted the $10 application.
Shortly after the drawing was held last spring, a DNR employee kept leaving messages on Vandertie's answering machine.
It went something like: "Hello, this is Kevin Wallenfang, DNR big game ecologist. You and I need to talk."
"I thought, OK, did I do something wrong?" Vandertie said.
The next day he found out: Absolutely nothing.
In fact, the first part of his dream was fulfilled. Vandertie was one of four winners of the state's elk tag lottery.
"Kevin has a good sense of humor," Vandertie said. "Once I heard I won, I had to sit down."
Next on his list was scouting and learning about the Clam Lake area where the hunt was to be held.
As a lifelong resident of Door County, Vandertie knows the "thumb" of Wisconsin as well as his own hands.
But Ashland and Sawyer counties, including the thousands of acres of Chequamegon-Nicolet National Forest used by the northern elk herd, were pretty much foreign country to him.
Over the summer and fall, the generosity of fellow Wisconsinites would make Vandertie feel like he'd lived in Clam Lake his entire life.
There were John and Brenda Maier of Sturgeon Bay, who run True North Guiding and Outfitters and helped hang tree stands and show Vandertie around the Clam Lake area.
There was the group of bear hunters who let Vandertie stay in their cabin near Clam Lake.
There were groups of loggers who offered updates on elk sightings.
There was a local upland bird hunter named Ernie who drove Vandertie
of 25
elk around to help him learn the area.
And two Wisconsin men he met just this year, Troy Piotrowski of Amherst and Mitch Bemis of Beldenville, who helped him on his hunting outings.
And of course there was Julie, his wife, who stayed home and milked the cows when her husband broke away to try to fill his elk tag.
Vandertie made two trips to Clam Lake after the season opened Oct. 13. On the first, from Oct. 20-25, he passed up at least three chances at big bulls.
Two were on private property he didn't have permission to hunt, and the third was at 300 yards with a crosswind.
When he turned down the shot, the landowner (who was at his side), told Vandertie "you're a good hunter, you can come back any time."
Vandertie returned to Clam Lake on Wednesday to continue his quest. On Wednesday night, he and Piotrowski visited a logging camp and learned of an area that had recently been cut.
Thursday morning they found elk at the spot, including a 6-by-6 and a 3by-3. But the bigger animal moved toward a forest road, presenting a risk of a violation if shot. Vandertie demurred.
They then moved to a private property where he had permission and found a bull that had seven points on one side and two on the other. Vandertie passed that opportunity, too.
"I thought if I was going to shoot an elk, I wanted a different one," Vandertie said. "I knew I'd never get another Wisconsin tag."
It was now late morning and Vandertie and Piotrowski went back to the cabin for a bite to eat. The barometric pressure was dropping, Vandertie said, and animals seemed to be really moving.
The pair changed tactics for the afternoon. By 1:30 p.m. they set up a ground blind on a high point in the new clear-cut where they had seen elk that morning.
A little after 3:30 they spotted motion. The 3-by-3 bull they had seen earlier walked into the open.
"Where's the big one?" Vandertie said.
A few minutes passed and there it was. The 6-by-6 stepped out and looked directly at the ground blind.
Several minutes passed before the bull relaxed and turned its head.
The moment presented an ethical shot. The animal was broadside at 175 yards.
Vandertie put the cross-hairs of his .300 Winchester Short Magnum rifle on the elk and squeezed the trigger.
The animal didn't move, so Vandertie chambered another round and fired again.
The bull walked 40 yards, staggered and fell. Both shots had passed through the vital organs.
The Door County dairy farmer was soon standing over his first elk in Wisconsin's inaugural elk hunting season.
"Never expected anything like this," Vandertie said. "Just unreal."
The animal was aged at 5 years and estimated to weigh 750 pounds by DNR biologists.
As all elk hunters know, much work remained. The animal needed to be gutted and quartered.
Vandertie's circle of friends was about to get larger, however, and made quick work of it.
A bowhunter who had come out of the nearby woods to congratulate Vandertie got on his cell phone and called the others in his hunting party.
Within minutes, eight men appeared and helped carry elk parts out of the clear-cut.
Piotrowski, an award-winning taxidermist, caped the elk and is planning to mount it.
Bemis, a butcher, will help process the meat.
After the DNR had taken samples Thursday, Vandertie had one more job to do.
He headed to the loggers camp in the forest to deliver fresh venison to the men who had shared their local knowledge with him.
"I've made so many friends through this hunt," Vandertie said. "I'm almost sad it's over. But I know how fortunate I was. It's something I'll never forget."