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We almost skipped the couple on our way to the next one. I take a peek to the north when Dad whispers suddenly, "Down! Down! Elk!" I turn my head South and see two big ears sticking out from the brush 200 yards down. I lower slowly and back up. We back up, drop our bags and double check our rifles. We walk very slowly and quietly 100 yards south towards our animals. With the gentle wind in our faces, we get on our hands an knees, and eventually our bellies. Crawling slowly to the edge more Elk enter our view. Young, old, antlered and antlerless bedded down eating, sleeping, and relaxing. The adrenaline pumping through my veins begins to slow down, and I take a deep breath. "Let's watch them, we have time." I say to Dad. We watched our animals in their environment for 35 minutes and decided it was time to pull the trigger. 178 yards. We adjust, take a deep breath, and gently squeeze the trigger. We stand up and watch the herd, led by a healthy 6 point Bull, make their way up the edge and across the prairies. Dad is smiling, watching the herd leave us. We hug, and get to work. I don't know what part of the hunt was the best. Being able to relax and watch our animals without the rush of a perfect shot at the perfect time, or the fulfillment knowing I am able to provide nourishment for my family for another year. Dad doesn't have too many elk seasons left in him, this moment by far was the most memorable for both of us. Here's to a few more.


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