November 2025
New Mexico Elk | A Self-Taught Hunter
I drew a tag in unit a I’d never stepped in. It was my first elk tag in five years. I had never taken a bull elk with a bow, and after several attempts, I was blessed with a chance to redeem myself.
I’m 41 years old, and hunting is not big in my family. To be honest, nobody hunts in my family. It was not until my younger brother started getting into the outdoors that my dad got back into hunting. I live in New Mexico, and my dad and brother are in Arizona. I am a self-taught hunter, and I am also an avid solo hunter.
Back to the hunt. They don’t let you scout in the unit because it’s federal and they have all these regulations. No cams, no camping. It’s not a place they make easy to hunt. On the other hand, there are great elk populations in the unit, and that can be the challenging part.
My girlfriend was only able to come out for the first day of my hunt, and we tore it up. The night before the hunt, she glassed up a 370” bull and we knew we had a target. The next day, we looked and looked, but he was nowhere to be found. She had to leave, but my stepdad and uncle came to join me. My uncle gets lost easy, so we left him at camp. Uncle Ray is from the mountains, which puzzles me, but he is the best at camp. He prepares all our meals, makes sure the fire is hot, and my best bud (Rio), his dog, is always with him.
I had found an area that held a lot of cows and knew there would be bulls around. Due to the rules of the park, we had to camp about 15 minutes out, but then it’s an hour drive into the park where we hunt. Every morning, we woke up at 3:30 a.m. to head out. As we were climbing to the top, we hoped we were getting close to one of the big bulls. The days were very warm, and there were outfitters in the general area putting pressure on the elk. In the mornings, I could hear the other hunters making calls, and we would just slip around them.
On day seven, my stepdad was feeling the hurt. Unfortunately, he and my uncle Ray said they were leaving the next day. It rained the day they left. I was bummed, and the rain was pouring down. I was not going to give up. I know the pain of going home and regretting it. I asked God for help, and like always, He said to not fear unfortunate circumstances.
I set out in the rain midday on September 8th and told myself I was going to change my plan and go to a spot I had no clue about. I started hiking a ridge near the entrance of the park because I knew everybody was driving right past that area. As I got to where I wanted to park, the clouds broke and the most beautiful sun shined. It took me about two hours to get up the hill. I was just looking for sign. The elk had not been bugling until last light, so tracking was my key. Around 4:30, a small bull ran by me, which I thought was odd. What I didn’t know was that he was running to the rut fest.
About 20 minutes later, I came up on a huge flat and could see 40+ head of cows, no bulls. As I tried to stealth it, I got busted by a bull I didn’t see and he spooked with three other bulls, but they were not with the cows. I stayed with the cows, and in time, they started to move. As I followed them, I started to hear bugles, and as we covered ground, they became louder and aggressive. I believe what happened was several groups of elk joined together with over 100 head and started the ultimate rut fest. I looked at over 20 bulls in the next hour. As they got into full rut mode, I made my move. I followed them down the mountain, and one of the bulls I really liked slipped out the group and started picking up a dead tree with his antlers. He happened to go up the hill above me, and this is where he slipped. I knew he was going right back to the cows. I didn’t have long, so I grabbed my phone and got a few short videos. Before I knew it, he was feeding right back to me and was now at 30 yards. I like to make good shots, but I’m not a great shooter. I let him come to 20, and I sent an arrow with the hope of a great shot. As he ran off, I grabbed my phone and stared filming. When he ran down the hill, I knew I should see him hit the bottom and run up other side, but I never saw him. I was nervous, but I also knew I didn’t want to lose him or bump him.
I waited for eight minutes and was so puzzled I didn’t see him run out the bottom of the gully. I slowly walked in the direction he ran because the angle of the hill. I could not see everything on my side. He ran 80 yards and didn’t suffer. As a bowhunter, I want to make the best shot I can. I don’t fling arrows like many.
It was 2.7 miles to the road. I took a few pics that night, got service, and called the fam. Uncle Ray and David came back the next day to help pack the bull out. This was not my hunt. This was our hunt. One thing I know is we all need each other in life, so I want to thank Kristin, Uncle Ray, and of course David for making this happen.