Man vs Ice : A Solo Steelhead Trip

 Clearwater River - Winter 2025

February always finds me anxious to fish for steelhead. The run was good and plans for the annual "guys trip" had been in the works since fall. Unfortunately, for one reason or another, everyone had things come up and the trip slowly fell through. I, however, had already booked a place to stay and had the time off. I checked with a couple friends and family last minute to see who could rally and join and no one could. I would just have to go solo!

The river was low, clear and locked in ice after a severe cold snap. On top of that, the area had received a lot of fresh snow. My optimism was still high considering all the different conditions I had fished over the years and still caught fish. 

I arrived to find the river in the snowiest and iciest state I'd ever seen it. Entire sections were completely iced over! The banks and hillsides were completely white as a couple of feet of snow blanketed everything. The scene was beautiful! As I drove down the river though, it became obvious that fishable locations were a premium. The ice had simply covered so much of the water. If a spot wasn't completely iced over, then there were thick ice shelves lining the edges.

The river had experienced an early push of fish before the cold snap though and I had a good idea of where they were likely holding in the river. As luck would have it, the first fishable place I wanted was unoccupied.  

I beat the water that first morning for a couple hours, trying to decipher the bottom and where I thought the fish would be holding. At 9 am I was rewarded with my first fish of the trip. A couple friends of mine found me, stopping by on their way home that morning and they helped me take a photo.

Fish and Game also stopped by just in time to check if the fish was suitable for the brood stock program. The fish had a wire tag in its nose and they took the fish up to the tanker truck for the hatchery. 

I fished hard for several more hours and hooked 2 more fish before deciding to explore. There was one spot in particular I was extra excited to fish on this trip with these low waters: the 4-some hole. The last guys trip in 2023, we had found this new spot and ended up with 33 fish in a day there. The spot was super cool and has a fun drift with a fly rod. I hiked my way up to the hole to discover a serious disappointment; it was completely iced over. Stupid ice!

I had 3 more days to fish and the weather was slowly warming with rain in the forecast. I hoped this spot would soon open up, allowing me to fish it. I knew if it opened up I would hammer the fish.

The next morning found me back at the location I had caught and hooked the fish from the day before. The morning was cold and snowy and not much action was happening for anyone.

I knew my options were limited but I just had to explore. Around mid-day I packed up and headed to another spot. I drove upriver, stopping here and there to look at the water. I stopped at a corner of the river where I'd never fished before and looked downstream. That water looks pretty decent. I should at least walk down there and get a better look. The run started with a nice pinch and riffle at the top and slowly opened up and slowed down as it rounded a corner. There were 2 gentleman fishing the bottom end where it was slower; one with a fly rod and the other with a spinning rod. There was a lot of good fishable water at the top of the rifle so I decided to give it a try.

The drift was perfect and the run not too deep. I glanced downstream just in time to see the guy with the fly rod hooked up. Then I looked again at my bobber, which slowly sunk. I set the hook and felt the wonderful slow head-shakes of a steelhead. Sweet, that didn't take long! Landing a steelhead by yourself isn't the easiest task but I managed. A healthy specimen lay in the net and I grabbed a quick photo and released the fish. 

The snow had quit and the afternoon was slowly warming. My optimism was high and I was really loving the drift I was getting through this new run. My next fish came from close to the same area, and this time, the fly fisherman from downriver came up to help me net the fish. I thanked him and we exchanged pleasantries and small talk before he went back downstream. 

The fly fisherman downstream was also getting into a fish here and there and we began to talk more. His name was Doug and I could tell he really knew the water in here. I ended up landing a couple more fish that afternoon and helped Doug with a couple of his own. We both decided we'd fish together the next morning in this spot and help each other out. 

With an hour of daylight to spare, I decided to check on the 4-some hole to see if anything had opened up some more. It had but was still not fishable. It was as if the ice was protecting the steelhead. I waded across the river to see if I could break up the ice in a few spots to help encourage the process along. I was able to break up some of the ice along the edge, hoping it would be enough to jump start things and maybe, just maybe, it would be open enough tomorrow to get a short drift. By golly, I was going to fish this hole even if it took until the last day. It was now me against the ice; war had begun.  

The next morning found me anxiously awaiting daylight in the new run. My new friend Doug arrived and we chatted as the sun rose. We began fishing and were quickly into fish, including a nice double hook-up. 

Doug and I began to catch lots of fish together. Fish and Game came down and gave us some tubes for the brood stock program. 

"You guys really like sleeping in don't you? We've already had to release 5 fish." Doug said to the young Fish and Game employee who laughed. 

Doug had one of their phone numbers to call when we had a couple fish in the tubes. It seemed Doug was well known around these parts. 

Doug and I took turns taking pictures of each other's fish. The morning was really shaping up to be a productive one. 

The rain started to fall and I slowly wandered upstream to the faster water where I had been fishing the day before. Sure enough there was fish up here too!

Doug and I had each landed about 10 fish by mid-afternoon. Once again, the 4-some hole crept into the back of my mind.

"Doug, I think I'm going to take off and check out another spot to see how the ice is. This rain may have opened things up some more." I said to my new river buddy. 

"Sounds good man. It was a pleasure fishing with you today. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked.

"Maybe you will!"

With a couple hours of daylight left, I was in position at the 4-some hole. As luck would have it, there was just enough open water to get a very short drift right along the edge of the ice. On my second cast, I hooked up!

 

This was a very strong fish and I honestly wasn't sure how I was going to pull the fish through the fast current to my side and net it by myself. I tried numerous times in my current position but realized it was futile. Many times the fish battled under the huge ice shelf and I hoped it wouldn't break me off on the ice. Upstream, there was a small eddy that just might work. I slowly walked upstream to the eddy and was able to coax the fish from under the ice and across the current into the soft water. There I scooped her into my net. She was a beautiful un-clipped hen!

I fished this short drift for another hour without another hook-up, so I packed it up and left the river for the day. It has been a very productive day with 11 fish landed! Tomorrow was my last day and I would only have the morning to fish.

In the morning I walked into Moe's run, only to find it still had too much shore ice. I then went back to the new corner run. I figured I'd see Doug again there, but as the sun rose, no one joined me. Immediately I was into fish, but they weren't biting. I kept hooking up but the fish were nearly all foul hooked. These were especially difficult to land by myself. 

I landed 3 foul hooked fish and broke off another 3 before deciding I better head to the 4-some hole for one last hurrah. Would I be able to conquer the ice shelf once and for all?

I walked upstream to the 4-some hole to find the ice shelf only clinging to both sides of the river by small sections. I started to break open a path along river right, hoping it would cause the other side to break as well. I punched my way through, and just like I hoped, the current grabbed the shelf and broke free the other side. The huge ice shelf was now completely free and slowly started drifting downstream. As it collided with the shallow rocks of the tail-out, large sections would crack and break free. It was extremely satisfying to watch. Take that you stupid ice! The ice shelf didn't completely leave the pool but had shrunk immensely and left open the part I needed to fish. The time was finally here to fish one of my favorite spots on the river.

It didn't take long to hook into a monster!

 

This was another high 30's fish that kicked my butt! I slowly won the battle and scooped the large buck into my net in the eddy upstream.

A huge smile formed on my face as the sun popped through the clouds. Life was good! 

I fished the 4-some hole for another 3 hours before It was time to head home. I hooked another 6 fish and landed 4. It had felt like a triumphant journey, finally beating the ice and conquering the fish of the 4-some hole. It had been a wonderful solo trip with plenty of fish to the net. The guys really missed out on this one...

Steelhead with Katie and Colin

 Late Winter, Clearwater 2024

Katie has a love/hate relationship with steelhead. She loves that they're big and challenging. She hates that it's almost always cold when you fish for them. Last year, despite her best attempts, they eluded her. After a successful trip with Jason this year, Katie was getting the itch again, despite the cold. So we started planning a trip; stocking up on wool socks, heated socks, gloves and all the necessities for a human that would rather be hibernating. 

Colin, a fellow big fish junkie would also be joining us. Colin had never fished this river and was eager to learn some new water.

It had been 2 weeks since my last trip, and the fish were now higher in the system, placing them in a couple of my favorite fly fishing spots. We rolled up to the river and found that no one was in the "fly bucket" or the "corner hole" directly below it. Score!

I showed Colin where to cast in the corner hole and Katie and I walked up to the fly bucket. As Katie and I slid down the embankment to the river, the sweet sound of a fish porpoising caught our attention. Then another, and another yet again. All 3 were in different spots in the run; a promising sign, for sure. I placed Katie on the best rock and on her 2nd or 3rd cast I watched her bobber dive and jerk a couple times. 

"Honey, honey, fish!" I yelled and pointed as the steelhead jerked on the end of her line. 

Katie set the hook but nothing came back.

"Darn! Im surprised that one didn't stick," I added.

I slid in upstream of the prime water she was fishing and focused on a small chute on the far side of the river where I occasionally pick up fish. BAM! My indicator shot upstream and I set the hook, feeling the dance of a steelhead on my line. I quietly looked downstream at Katie, who was intently watching her own stuff. My fish thrashed on the surface near her and she looked upstream to see my guilty smile. Katie grabbed the net and assisted me in landing the fish. 

  

A few casts later, Katie hooked up, easing the guilt I had been feeling. I love catching fish, but nothing makes me more happy than seeing my friends and family catch fish. 

The fish was a giant unclipped female. Katie was jazzed, especially after several days of no fish last year. Now I just needed to get Colin onto a fish and I could relax. 

"I wonder how Colin is doing downstream?" I questioned after we sent the big fish on its way.

"You should see if he wants to come up here and try. My hands are absolutely frozen!" Katie added as she squeezed her battery powered hand warmers. "I'm going to sit down and try to warm up."

"O-kay." I said hesitantly, knowing Colin would probably waste no time in catching a fish up here.

Colin came up and stood on Katie's rock, and like I imagined, he was hooked up in short order. It was obvious there was a pile of fish in here today. 

 

The fish rocketed out of Colins hands back into the water after a picture. Katie still wasn't warmed up yet so she told Colin to get another one. Colin wasn't bashful and climbed back onto the rock. He was into another fish in a matter of minutes. 

"Dang, this is fun!" Colin said as we released his second fish. "F*** yeah! This is way better than Pyramid!" Referring to Pyramid Lake, Nevada where Colin has fished many times.

Katie still wasn't warmed up and was enjoying how excited Colin was to catch these fish. "This is entertaining," she giggled.

Colin continued fishing and ended up landing a few more before the day was over. He was definitely hooked and the pressure was off me now.

The next morning, Colin and I tried a spot lower on the river. The water was a bit high and the clarity off downstream. By 10 am we were back upstream with Katie and decided to try the corner hole, for some other anglers were actually in the fly bucket. 

The corner hole holds a ton of fish but it is deep and harbors a few funky current seams that can ruin a good drift. Regardless, we would figure out how to pull some fish out. We prospected the hole for a while before I tied into the first fish.  

I was now up to 3 split shot to ensure I was getting deep enough. The cast was difficult and the seam I wanted was on the far side of the river. To get the proper drift I also had to make some funky mends at just the right time. When done right, everything would go perfect, and the results started to show. There it is, this drift will get a fish... The indicator slowed and bobbed through the best water. BOOOOM! I set the hook on another fish. 

I got Katie into position and explained exactly what I was doing. A short time later, she grabbed one. Katie has always been a great student and being observant has helped her catch more fish. 

 

Colin grabbed the next fish at the bottom section of the run. 

Before the day was over, Colin and I each caught a couple more fish, finishing another decent day on the water. 

On our last morning, we found ourselves again at the corner hole and the fly bucket, alternating to keep both spots occupied. As usual, the early morning was a bit slow but by mid-morning we started catching fish.

The sun even started shining! Katie was standing on the good rock in the fly bucket getting some decent drifts. Like a lizard, fueled by the sunshine and warmth, Katie's casts dramatically improved and after 15 minutes of the sun on her she was casting all the way across the river.

Her renewed energy paid off and she hooked up; catching her 3rd fish of the trip. 

I grabbed another some time later.

Colin stayed down in the corner hole and began to really figure things out. 

"I set my stuff way deeper. This is the 3rd hook-up from that small area near the tail-out." He said as we landed another fish for him.

"It surprises me that it's that deep. If it's working, keep it up!"

Colin's next fish was a beaut! A large colored up male.

We fished hard that morning until Katie and I had to head home. Colin was going to stay another couple days and I had no doubt, he would land many more fish.

It had been a fun and productive trip for us, tipping Katie's steelhead scale once again in the "favorable" direction. Upon Colin's return and the stories he told, his last couple days were "extremely" productive. I believe it's safe to say, we created a steelhead monster in Colin! 

Archery Elk 2024

I started the 2024 archery elk season with high aspirations. I decided I would try hunting out of a treestand on a wallow. Wallows are small, muddy watering holes on the mountainside that elk frequent. As the rut approaches and the testosterone in bull elk increases, they like to roll and "wallow" in these spots, covering themselves in mud. Bulls use these frequently at the beginning of September, so sitting on one can be productive to a hunter. 

I had located a few wallows the previous season, so when summer of 2024 rolled around, I began scouting these wallows. I hung trail cameras and scouted the trees around the wallows for treestand options. By August, I had located my target wallow and hung my treestand. A quick last minute scout to check the camera revealed a few tantalizing bulls. The season couldn't get here soon enough!

Opening morning of the archery season found me sitting in my stand, anxiously awaiting a mature bull. The first morning produced no elk sightings, and neither did the evening sit. The following morning I saw a few deer, a cow elk and a spike. Later that evening, I saw a sow black bear and her 2 cubs.

The bears came straight in and plopped down into the cool waters. It was pretty special to be so close to these bears, but also a bit nerve wracking. The cubs splashed around and played while mom relaxed in the water. They eventually took off down a trail never to be seen again.   

The following morning I arrived at the stand to find that a bull had wallowed early that morning in the dark. Maybe things were about to happen? I sat all morning only to find a pine marten and lots of chattering squirrels. 

My hunting buddy Ryan was in the area and wanted to hunt with me that afternoon. After 2 1/2 days of sitting and no bull elk encounters, I decided a hike and hunt approach for that evening might do me some good. Ryan and I walked an old road and found some elky spots, but no elk encounters. We walked into a spot with some cell service and a notification came through on my phone. 

"Crap. Look at this bull!" I said, showing Ryan the trail camera photo of a big bull, currently on my wallow. 

"Dang, I guess you should have sat tonight," Ryan chuckled.

"Ugggghh."

The following day I had to head home. I packed up all of camp except an empty tent, anxious to return in a few days with Bryce, Ryan, Seth and Luke. We would all hunt for at least a week. 

A wildfire broke out in the area while I was at work. In short order this fire grew substantially and closed most of the area to all access. My tent likely burned and so did my cameras and the area I had been hunting. It was back to the drawing board! We were now forced to explore new areas in our unit and try to make the most of the season. 

Bryce and I had 2 different spots we wanted to try. We spent the first 2 days hunting these, and both places gave us encounters with bull elk. For one reason or another, no arrows were flung, but our optimism was high. 

On the afternoon of the second day, Bryce and I planned to meet Ryan, Seth and Luke over on another mountain where we would spend a few days. The afternoon was hot and windy and we began to see a large column of forest fire smoke building. Our fire was getting everything it needed that day and was absolutely exploding! We tried one route to get to the mountain and were met by the forest service, who were closing all the roads in the area. The fire was spreading in all directions and the closure area had now tripled in size. The mountain we all planned to meet on was still open, however, and just out of the closure area. We backtracked out of the forest and went the long way around, arriving on the mountain and finding the camp of our friends by late afternoon. The guys were out hunting nearby, but luckily had cell service. 

"Hey guys, Bryce and I made it." I sent in the group text message. "Holy fire. That thing is really exploding!"

"Is it getting worse?" Replied someone.

"Oh yeah, Bryce and I are up here on top watching it."

 

Bryce and I stood on top of the mountain, looking toward the fire. Between gusts of wind you could hear a low roar in the distance.

"I think that roar is the fire." Bryce said with concern.

"I think you're right. This is not good. That thing is headed this way and its angry!" I said, as a blast of hot air hit my face. "I don't feel comfortable sleeping here tonight."

Just then, a tree torched off below us, a little over a mile away.

"Yep, time to leave." I said, pulling out my phone to tell the group.

Bryce and I ran back to the vehicles and started packing everyone's stuff up so we could leave as soon as possible. Luckily, the guys hadn't gotten too far from the truck and within 20 minute they were mobbing down the bumpy dirt road back to us. We all got in our trucks and took off down the road, getting the hell out of the forest! Half way down the mountain we met a forest service truck who was coming up to evacuate anyone on the mountain. We eventually made it out and found ourselves in the "safety" of a town and paved highway.

We all met at a gas station and talked about our options. We all had several days to hunt so we weren't about to head home because of the fire. We decided to try a nearby mountain that none of us had much experience on. We knew it had elk and best of all, it was probably the safest option in terms of the fire. The fire would have to make some crazy progress to put us at risk there. Bryce made a phone call to a coworker who he knew had hunted there, and soon we had a game plan.

The next couple of days we hunted around in some new country. One evening we found a couple of spikes just before dark. The following morning we crept down a trail into the area the spikes had been. We stumbled upon a man-made water trough the elk had clearly been using. The area was really dry, so this water source was likely a huge draw to the nearby animals.

"Someone needs to sit on this thing tonight." I said, looking around for an adequate place to hide. 

"I will." Ryan replied, recognizing the potential of this place. "I bet those spikes last night had just used this water."

We found a large hawthorn bush that created a perfect blind. A little branch trimming and 2 guys could sit inside the bush in the darkness of its canopy. 

That evening, Bryce, Seth and I hiked a new area, while Ryan and Luke sat on the water trough. 

Just before dark we got a text message from Ryan. "Spike down!" 

We hurried back to camp and down to the water trough. Ryan and Luke were anxiously waiting so we could all follow the blood trail together and recover his elk.     

Ryan was giddy with excitement, retelling the story of the shot. 

"We heard them come running down the trail from up there by the road. When they got down here they were chasing each other, almost playing. The spike came to the water first. It's amazing how loud it is when they drink! He stood right here broadside, drinking. It was a 20 yard shot. Look, the arrow went straight through him and impaled in the wood post on the other side of the trough!"

Ryan walked us around the trough and showed us the bloody arrow stuck in the wood post. 

"I had my bow drawn too. Ryan just beat me to the shot." Luke added, shaking his head. 

"As soon as I shot, he jumped over the trough entirely and took off up the hill where we lost sight of him. I think we heard a crash just over there but we couldn't be too sure. Then it got dark."

Ryan and Luke wanted to make sure the elk had time to pass, so they sat around until we had all gotten down there. A smart, conservative move since "bumping" a wounded elk can cause them to run miles. 

We all got on the heavy blood trail and took off up the hill. It was obvious this elk was hit well because there was plenty of blood. The trail veered to the left and then Luke said, "Is that him down there?"

We all turned our headlamps down the hill where Luke pointed. Sure enough, there he was! We all celebrated and began to grab a few photos.

The elk hadn't gone very far at all. In fact, I was surprised they didn't see him laying dead from the blind!

We all got to work, and in short order we had loaded packs, ready to head up the hill. We drug the carcass down the hill and away from the water trough so we could try to hunt there again. One elk down!

We spent the next few days exploring and attempting to get on more elk. We had a few encounters but before we knew it, it was time for everyone to head home. Luckily, most of us had budgeted a few days at the end of the month to try to get it done. 

I freed up even more days at the end of the month, feeling the pressure of the closing season. Katie and I were nearly out of meat, so killing an elk this year was paramount. I still didn't want to shoot a cow elk but spikes were more than fair game at this point. Luke and I planned to hunt together for a couple days and then Bryce would come up for a few more. 

Luke and I hunted a couple days in the same area that Ryan had shot his elk. We had a great time with a few decent encounters with elk and more bugling than we expected. Unfortunately the area had also filled with lots of hunters; too many. Luke had to leave and I decided to meet Bryce at one of the other areas he and I had scouted earlier in the season with elk encounters. 

With 4 days left in the season, Bryce and I found ourselves hiking down into some steep, nasty country we hoped would produce. I took the lead down a well used elk trail, hoping a stealthy approach would put us into some early morning elk. Creeping quietly through the woods this season had produced more elk encounters than any other technique. 

Our optimism was high as we descended down the trail and further into good elk country. The trail flattened out as it followed alongside a small knob and next to a spring. An object the color of an elk caught my eye near the top of the knob. Elk! I stopped dead in my tracks and pointed up the hill for Bryce to see. The elk was just over 100 yards away and didn't appear as though it saw us. We froze on the trail, hoping to remain undetected. Then we heard movement in the bushes just up ahead near the spring we were next to. More elk! Elk started to emerge on the hillside directly next to us. First came a calf and then a cow, then more behind them. Bryce and I were frozen on the trail with little cover to hide us. The elk were slowly feeding as they walked across the hillside toward us. 

(A recreation of the shot scenario)

My bow was ready as I scanned the small herd of elk. I slowly ranged an object on the hillside next to the elk: 30 yards. This might be our only shot. The front calf and cow were directly adjacent to us. Then the calf stopped and stared directly at us. It knew something wasn't right. The calf jumped and spooked up the hill a little bit, then the cow behind it spooked. No, no! The rest of the elk just froze, looking around for what was causing this disturbance. I slowly drew my bow, not even sure what elk was my target, I just knew this was the time to draw. A couple more elk spooked. I scanned the group slowly at full draw looking for anything with antlers. There! A spike elk stood quartering away at what I guessed was about 40 yards. Anticipating that the entire hillside was seconds from erupting, I knew this was my only shot. A couple sticks came down from a low hanging branch, but the vitals of the elk were exposed. I was strangely calm as I took a deep breath, aimed and released. THWACK! The shot sounded and felt good. The bull hunched slightly and then took off. The hillside exploded as elk crashed through brush and snapped sticks as they ran away. All the elk hooked around the knob in seconds and the woods quieted. I had done it! Three years of chasing elk with a bow and this was the first time drawing my bow and releasing an arrow on an elk. Bryce came over and gave me a celebratory fist bump. 

"Shot felt good, but I really don't know exactly where it hit." I said, shaking my head.

"I think you probably did just fine." Bryce added as a nearby elk let out a bugle. 

We both turned our heads in the opposite direction the group of elk had run. Behind us there was now an elk bugling.

"While we're waiting for my elk, let's go after that one!" I said, as the bull let out another bugle.

"Okay!" Bryce added with a smile.

We crept toward the bugling bull. It turned out to be a herd bull and a couple satellites on their way to their daytime bedding area. We followed until the wind switched and our ability to sneak in on them became too difficult. It was time to head back and find my elk.

An hour had passed since the shot and it was now 9 am. We walked over to where the elk had been standing when it was hit. No blood or arrow. We started walking down the trail he took off on and a short distance later we found the first sign he was hit; a small drop of blood.

 

We continued down the main trail only to find small drops of blood like this one, here and there. After 40 yards, the blood stopped. We continued down the main trail and came to a spot that smelled like elk. The smell lasted for about 15 yards of trail and then faded. That's sorta strange. I wonder if one of the elk peed here? We continued down the main trail for a few hundred yards without finding another drop of blood. We went back to the blood trail and searched above and below to see if we could pick up more blood. There were fresh elk tracks everywhere going both up and down the hill. Still no blood. We decided that since the wind was pushing uphill, maybe the elk smell was coming from down below us. We checked a ways below us for a while, only to find nothing. I began to doubt my shot was lethal. Maybe it hit it in the leg or something? There was just so little blood. We had now been looking for about 2 hours. It was so strange that the blood trail just vanished. What were we missing?

We continued down the main trail after we heard an elk bugle in that direction. We followed a long ridge through lots of good elk country and saw plenty of fresh sign. Still no blood or sign of my elk. We did a little calling in a spot, hoping to pull in something for Bryce. Eventually it was lunch time so we sat and ate. I sat there wondering what had happened. If I knew I had wounded the elk and lost it I would feel sick to my stomach, but I wasn't. I was calm but confused. I just knew we were missing something. 

We returned to the main trail and near the last blood. Once again on the trail there was a brief section of elk smell. Strange it would still smell like elk. That elk has to be dead around here. Since the wind was blowing uphill, he had to be below us in the thick bushes. We decided to grid search the tall brush below us. We scoured the steep, thick hillside below for a long time only to find nothing. It was now 2 pm and the risk of spoilage on my elk, if dead, was high. The only direction we hadn't really tried was higher above us. 

I got onto some elk tracks and followed them a ways up the hill. Sure enough, I found a small drop of blood. Crap, he HAD gone uphill. A short distance later, another drop. I continued on his trail finding very little blood, but at least I was on his trail. I came to a spot where I could smell elk again. I looked down the hill and could see the main trail and recognized the spot where I had been smelling elk before. He's got to be up here somewhere... I took a couple more steps and heard a strange buzzing sound. I wonder what that noise is? Then I realized what it was: flies! I took 2 more steps and there he was, laying dead behind a stump and tree. My elk! 

"Bryce, Bryce! I found him! He's right here!" 

Instant relief came over me, followed by panic. My elk was covered in flies and was stiff with rigor. I hope the meat is okay! Why hadn't I trusted my nose! That smell was above me, not below me! I felt like an idiot for not searching better around that area that smelled like elk. It was 2:30 now and my elk had been laying here since around 8 am. It was probably 75 degrees too. I knew if we were going to salvage this meat we had to act quickly.

Bryce took a couple photos and they very accurately captured the relief I was feeling. We quickly went to work getting the hide off and opening up the belly to relieve as much heat as possible. There was no foul smell or any indication the meat had begun to spoil. When we had gotten one half of the elk removed and bagged, I hiked it down to the creek where I placed the game bags in a trash bag and submerged them in the creek. This cold shock really helped cool the meat. I then hung the quarters in the shade and went back for the rest of the meat. I repeated the same process with the remainder of the meat and within a few hours we had the whole elk cut up, cooled and hung. We then took the extra time to cut down to the bone on the quarters, exposing the thickest parts of the meat that would take the longest to cool. The meat was cooling nicely and my fear of spoilage was now gone. 

After sending a picture of the elk to the group, Ryan and Luke decided to head up and help us pack the meat out. Bryce and I secured the first load to head up the hill back to camp. We each took a hind quarter.

Ryan and Luke were at camp when we arrived. Thank God for great friends! With a couple hours of daylight left, we all headed back down to retrieve the last of the meat. 

We got all the meat on ice and in the morning I left for home to get the meat in the fridge. 

I returned to the mountain for the last few days of the season, hoping to help my friends harvest an elk. We tried our hardest, but the elk eluded us. It had been a rollercoaster of a season; from the treestand to  running from fire, to new country. We lucked out by harvesting 2 bulls out of the group. Not too shabby for a bunch of fire displaced, mediocre elk hunters!