This season was no textbook example for how things are supposed to go. It started rough. Pedaling our bikes into the unknown, we pushed our bodies to the brink. Needless to say this season wasn’t looking over our favorite hunting or even familiar ground.
We couldn’t find the usual suspects in their typical range, which caused us to expand our horizon and check out brand new and foreign hunting grounds.
The first weekend of season was a learning experience in itself…Trent and I need to take a class in “How to Read Maps 101.” Friday night before the opener, we decided to load up the gear and check out some gated ground. We consulted Ty’s ancient, I mean outdated and obsolete map. With the effect of a couple of brew’s Trent and I made the decision to head west after departing from the rigs. Big mistake!
Our lack of common sense, lead us to a round-trip pedal fest of 27 miles and zero elk. Not to mention sore muscles.
We finally found our anticipated route, which was only ½ mile in the other direction from the truck. OOPS!!!!
As the season progressed, so did the odometer on our mountain bikes. We rode those stupid bikes everywhere, even pushing them up some of the steepest grades. With that said they not only saved us time and our feet, but they came in handy when it came time to pack meat.
Darrell and Trent were the first to draw blood.
Trent was able to coax a stud bull into his father to a mere 35 yards. With two well placed arrows the bull made a 65 yard jaunt before piling up. This was a great way to get things started for the BRO crew.
The second week of season, Trent and Steve hunted their asses off. Their hard work and sweat equity produced another bull on the ground. The bull made a severe mistake and Trent slipped an arrow into the vitals…
The pack out was a huge undertaking, with just of the two of them, they proceeded to pack out an entire elk in one trip on the mountain bikes and trailers. Finally arriving back to the homestead as the moon gave way to daylight.
Soon I followed with a sequence that nobody could have predicted. Pedaling our bikes into country that we had never laid our eyes on, we struggled to even raise the sight of an elk. Trent made our luck change though, as he painted his face as the daylight was winding down. Ty and I in disbelief put our “rally” caps on and proceeded to the end of the road. 
Finally as the sun was going down, we located a bull. With Ty as the shooter, Trent and he slipped down the ridge as I continued to rouse the bull. Soon I realized that the bull’s route was going to end up at my feet. With little time to react, I drew and shot. After a few seconds of crashing, silence came over the woods. We knew it was over.
After an easy pack to a skid road, we loaded up the bike carts and headed to camp. The next morning we started on our 14 mile ride out. By 1:30 pm we had the elk in the truck and a beer in our hand.
The next week was met with more challenges as Ty still had a tag burning a hole in his pocket. Tuesday night after work, Ty and I headed in to check out some old stomping grounds. With some fresh sign and one bugle we had high spirits as the sun set.
On the ride out, Ty lost his BRO hat off his handlebars. Not wanting to lose his lucky cap, he took his 7 yr old daughter back in there the net morning. After locating his hat more than half way on the loop, he decided to continue on.
At straight up noon, he located a bull raking his antlers and pushing his cows through some heavy reprod. A quick bugle had the bull and Ty in a standoff. With a narrow window of opportunity, Ty made a stellar shot resulting in the biggest bull of his career. 
Him and his daughter, Hunter, experienced a hunt that they will never forget.
Last up was Treavor.
His plane arrived Thursday night as Trent and I greeted him in the North Bend International Airport. And I use the term “International Airport” very loosely. We didn’t waste any time and started planning the route for the next day's hunt.
As the week progressed so did the number of close calls and frustration. We anticipated the last week of season being the best hunting, but we struggled to find them on a consistent basis. We pushed on and kept our chins up.
The last weekend, we found ourselves pedaling up the same path we made on my hunt. Unfortunately we were unable to locate anything. In fact I didn’t even lay my eyes on an elk the final two days of season. The sign indicated we were a day late and a dollar short. Oh well! We came away with some more tricks in our bag and numerous new hunting spots.
The best part of the season was being able to share the experience with good friends.
We had a diverse crew, from professional cinematographer, Justin Crump, to first time bowhunter, Chris Apuy. Not to mention our newest member to the crew, Steve Howard.
The “tough-ass” award goes to our fellow partner, Trent. The rest of the crew through out our inflatable pads and set-up our bivy tents every night.
Not Trent. He just through out his sleeping bag on the less than soft ground and called it a night.
Yet another sunset but this one is different, it marks the end of another memorable elk season!
Stay tuned as we prepare for late buck season. Only 32 days left……
-Kody
