One Good Deed

Montana Elk | One Good Deed

Story By: Jack Wollenzien

I’ve been fortunate to grow up in Montana with its many hunting opportunities. I love our mountains and plains and the many opportunities we have to chase deer, elk, and antelope and other species, if you’re lucky enough to draw. I’ve been blessed to have a dad who is passionate about hunting, taught me from a young age, and has helped me have opportunities not everyone gets. These last several years, I have been pursuing a degree in Engineering and have not had much time to hunt. I have missed it and have been looking forward to completing my degree and having more time to hunt.

The one animal that everyone seems to want most, including myself, is a mature bull elk. I have killed a couple bulls over the years, but a mature bull is hard to come by even in Montana. This past application season, my dad and I were deciding what hunts to put in for. I told him I would be in my final semester of school, so I would be very busy and not have much time. We decided to put in for one of the most difficult tags to draw with the worst odds, thinking that way, I could get another bonus point and put off hunting another year. I was surprised and a little worried when we learned a few months later that I had drawn, knowing I would not have a lot of time and not wanting to waste such a great tag and all the points I had accumulated since I was 12 years old.

My dad started researching the unit, contacted the past tag holders, and figured out where we would focus our efforts. I focused on school with a hope that we could make it happen in a short amount of time. That fall, my parents had some plumbing work done on their home. It turned out that the plumber, a friend of my dad’s (thanks Troy!), had drawn an archery tag for the same unit I had drawn. During his hunt, he arrowed a large bull but was unable to locate it. He spent days looking for it with the assistance from a local rancher, but they were unable to find his bull. He came home empty handed. A few weeks later, the rancher contacted Troy and told him a neighbor had found his expired bull and he could come back and recover the head if he wanted it. My dad told Troy we would be heading there across the state to hunt the opening weekend of the rifle season and would be happy to bring back his elk head. He accepted and gave us the contact info of the rancher who had found it.

The time arrived, and I was super busy. The opener fell in between two tests I was scheduled to take and a large team project I was working on in school. I told my dad I would only have the weekend to hunt and then I would have to head back to school. If we were not successful, I was hoping to have the week of Thanksgiving to make my last attempt to fill the tag, hoping to locate a big bull.

We hunted opening morning and covered an area where we were hoping to locate a herd, but they were not there. After lunch, we decided to contact the rancher and see if we could locate Troy’s bull. We met with him, and he gave us detailed instructions on where we would locate it on his ranch. My dad then asked him if while we were up there recovering it, if we happened to see another bull, would be okay for me to harvest it? I wasn’t really expecting him to say yes, so I was surprised when he gave us permission to hunt.

We made our way, following his instructions into the area and located the patch of timber where the dead bull was supposed to be. We searched for over an hour. We kept circling, yelling back and forth to one another to communicate. Finally, my dad smelled it, moved in, and located it. The birds, coyotes, and maggots had done nature’s work, but it was still pretty gross separating the head from the body. However, we managed it. We then started back out the way we had come in. We were not more than 100 yards from where we had located Troy’s bull when we looked up the hillside and spotted a dozen elk with a nice herd bull. It was 3:00 in the afternoon, and we had just made a bunch of noise not very far away. We couldn’t believe our luck!

I quickly laid down, propping my rifle on my pack while my dad ranged the bull. The elk were at 360 yards above us, foraging on an open hillside. We made the adjustments on the scope, I shot, and the bull dropped. My hunt was done; we were finished on opening day. What a celebration we had! It was a great feeling wrapping my hands around his antlers and admiring his beauty.

We processed him, hung the quarters, and returned early the next morning with the game cart to pack him out. I’m not sure why I was so lucky. Maybe one good deed does lead to another. I am very grateful to the rancher (seriously, thank you so much!) who gave us permission not only to recover Troy’s elk head but to harvest a bull of my own.