Brandon's perspective: The hunt

This is a partial recount of Brandon's hunting story, in manspeak. I say partial because anyone who has called him or talked to him in person knows the story can get much more long winded than this.

It's just a copy of the widely distributed email, so nothing new. But there are a few bonus pictures at the end.

After 6 months of anticipation, I am back from my elk hunt with a story to tell.

The rut was very slow to start this year but we had a great time and made the most of it. I arrived in my unit 2 days early and hunted 6 of the 7 days. Every day we had at least 3 groups of glassers out looking for "the bull". Lots and lots of good bulls, but no "WOW" bulls. On my drive home, I did an honest inventory of the bulls I personally saw and came up with 71 bulls in 7 days. I had every opportunity to shoot a solid 365" + plus bull opening morning but decided to keep hunting, and I am glad I did.

I had tons of help and we covered a lot of country. I had 3 great back-up bulls located in a remote area where there had been no hunting pressure. I could have shot several 340-350" type bulls but kept passing in hopes of finding a bigger bull. The rut was getting stronger by the day and new, bigger bulls kept showing up daily.

On day 6, we had a herd of elk in the timber below us at about 400 yards. Gino called 2 of the bulls up to within 30 yards, and a few of the bulls worked up a canyon away from us. That left 4 distinct bugles in the trees with the cows. We decided to get aggressive and snuck in the trees and into the middle of the elk. We spent over 2 hrs trying to locate each of the 4 bulls in the thick junipers and pines. We had elk within 50 yards of us the entire time. We had eliminated 3 of the 4 bulls but could never get a look at the herd bull. Gino nicknamed him "The Joker" because of his distinct laugh-like bugle. The cows had finally had enough of our cow-calling and left the bedding area. The Joker bull initially went with them and then suddenly stopped bugling. We were bummed to have not gotten a better look at him but headed back to the truck. We walked a few hundred yards back the direction we came from when I caught motion to my right moving through the timber. It was the Joker bull trying to sneak out the back door. As he crossed a clearing at less than 60 yards I busted him and he crashed 50 yards away. It happenned very fast.

As we approached the bull he just kept getting bigger. He is a 7 x 8 with a non typical right side. He has 21"+ 4ths, 41.5" of width, and 52" main beams. His right side has a split 4th and a kicker off his main. I am thrilled with the bull and had a blast hunting with new and old friends.

Special thanks to everyone who helped make this hunt happen; My loving wife Katie, my dad, Gino Wulkotte (Colten and Chris), Chris Harlow, Dean Rovey, Jacob Cannon, Travis Van Haren, Quint Molina, and Greg Elkins.

Here are the pictures:

And coming soon? My perspective. Then you'll see why he had to thank me at the end.

Wilbur does it

Brandon was headed out the door to change water on the sunflowers last night when I spotted his phone sitting on the kitchen counter.

I hollered at him through the open window and told him to wait for me to bring it out.

When I opened the door, there he was, just four feet away. Doing what boys do. In the front yard.

My family had the most awful time trying to break my youngest brother of this habit. It was where he preferred to go. But my approaching-30-year-old husband?

Seriously.

Then, he yells back at me, "Hey, I accidentally got the porch post. Sorry!"

Me: "What do you mean accidentally? Looks like you're positioned perfectly for that."

Him: "No, I was just trying to get the plant, not the post."

Me: "Well, why were you trying to get the plant in the first place?"

Him: "Wilbur does it."

Me: "Do I really need to explain the difference there?"

Hunting footage

Not the bull that will soon be hanging in our house, but here's some footage of the guys calling one in, courtesy of Dean Rovey:







Or catch it on YouTube here.

No room at the inn...for animals

After Brandon finished day one of the cattle show, we went in search of our hotel arrangements so we could high-tail it off the fairgrounds as soon as he finished the market lambs.

The white-haired lady we spoke with informed us we had a reservation for the next two nights at the Prescottonian Best Western. A bed, paid for by you? Fine with us. But she proceeded to apologize, saying she would have had something nicer, but this was the only hotel around that allowed animals.

Then she turned to me and said, "Not that I'm saying you're an animal." Which is, of course, exactly what we were thinking, right?

This hotel was a good 25 miles from the fairgrounds, and we passed 20 others on the way there. At one point, it seemed like we were on Hotel Drive or something. Brandon said, "Well, Hampton, Marriott, Holiday Inn...too bad they don't let animals in."

And we're still not sure why they insisted upon finding us a hotel which allowed animals. Brandon doesn't recall telling them he was bringing along a goat to accompany him or anything. He didn't even tell them I was coming, so no reason for the confusion there either.

I'll take a steak with that salad

Since we didn't decide to eat at any of the furniture stores we passed, we continued on our quest for supper.

Finally, Brandon said, "Hey, there's a Texas Roadhouse. Their salad sounds good. Actually, their salad sounds really good. They have the best ranch."

Because when Brandon says someone has a good salad, he's really talking about the quality of their ranch dressing.

A good three minutes later, as were turning into the parking lot, he said, "And I'm going to get their ribeye with my salad."

I let this go as long as I could. Then I started laughing. He asked what was so funny.

"I just can't believe you said, 'Hey, let's go to a steakhouse. I really want their salad.'"

Brandon: "I said ribeye too."

Me: "Um, yeah, you did. To go with your salad."

What are you hungry for?

Brandon judged another county fair this past weekend, and I was able to accompany him at the last minute when we found someone to irrigate our thirsty sunflowers. We figured it was worth spending half his livestock judging earnings to hire some labor since we hadn't seen each other for eight days.

On the way to our hotel the first night, after a day of looking at cattle and handling sheep, we were looking for a place to grab a bite to eat.

So we went through the routine:

Brandon: "Italian?"

Me: "Nope, just had that."

Brandon: "American, Mexican?"

Me: "Those would work."

Brandon: "Greek, pizza?"

Me: "No Greek, no pizza. And where the heck did Greek come from?"

Brandon: "Steakhouse?"

Me: "Maybe."

So we proceeded to look for any American, Mexican or steakhouse restaurants.

At one point, I saw a pink-looking building with the word "Casa" on it. But I couldn't tell what was behind the "Casa." So I said, "Look, there's a Casa...Casa...Casa something...Casa what?"

As we drove by, Brandon said, "Oh yeah, Casa Decor. Fine imports. Let's eat there. Maybe they'll have a couch we can nibble on. Or an end table."

In my defense, the sun was setting right behind the place, and I do have a prescription for glasses, which I refuse I fill until I really just can't see. And how many Mexican restaurants are pink and called "Casa" something?

But Brandon wouldn't let it go. As we continued driving, we came upon a big sign for some model homes.

"Oh look. Casa de model home. Bet they have a nice entrée."

And a mile later, "There's another furniture store. We could eat there."

We did eventually find something other than leather or cherry oak for an appetizer.

The other day

This past Thursday afternoon was the first time I had seen my husband in roughly eight days, since he was off killing an elk. (More on that later.)

So we spent the weekend catching up on each other's lives. I learned about his elk adventure, and he learned about my days irrigating and working on the computer. And, I felt the need to catch him up on the happenings of the world while he was in the mountains.

Since we don't have TV, all of my news, interesting facts and conversation pieces come from things I read online. So several times, I would begin a new conversation with something like this...

"I read the other day that..."

"Hey, the other day I read..."

"So I read the other day..."

Finally, after two days of this, Brandon mocked me, "'I read the other day,' geez, did you do anything while I was gone besides 'read the other day?'"

And the next time I went to open my mouth, "Let me guess. You read the other day?"