Elk

One thing I find when I talk to hunters from around the country is that they are jealous of Oregonians. In many states, whitetail deer are the only big game to hunt. We have 11 big game species and none engender more downright envy among our less-fortunate countrymen than Rocky Mountain and Roosevelt elk.

At the crest of the mountains where the John Day River begins its journey to the Columbia and the Powder River flows east, a rusty wheelbarrow stands silent testimony to the history of our region. Chinese immigrants once struggled to earn their way in this new land and grizzled miners pulled their fortune from the…

You may wonder what my qualifications are for writing about elk hunting mistakes. “What makes you think you’re so smart?” you may ask. Well, I hunted nine seasons before I tagged my first elk. Nine years of blown chances, and missed opportunities make me the expert. Plus, I’ve hunted with some of the other masters…

They consumed meat, cornmeal, berries, nuts, roots and whatever else they could find. Along the Missouri, they hunted game. On the Columbia, they swapped for salmon. According to Stephen E. Ambrose, in his book Undaunted Courage, each soldier in the Lewis and Clark expedition ate up to nine pounds of meat per day. 33 people…

This fall, a few of Oregon’s muzzleloader hunters will grab their long-barreled rifles and sling their ‘possibles’ bags in pursuit of elk along the south coast.

I crouched behind a stand of small firs waiting for the herd to come through. The elk had seen me and stopped, whirling to run back through the trees. Anticipating their next move, I had run down the trail to watch a clearing.

We pedaled up the mountain, bows in racks on our handlebars, the afternoon sun in our eyes. Dave showed me where the elk had crossed the road that morning. Stashing our two-wheeled steeds under some trees, we set off up the hill. We walked up a range cattle trail, billowing dust clouds at every step,…