After a near disaster trip to Colorado elk hunting without me in 2011, Molly, my mare made a return trip with me this year. She seemed none the worse for wear, and though rarely ridden in the year ensuing, was quite bidable. The kick in the chops she gave me while I got her ready for the vet had healed, and been forgiven.

This would be a new era for the Sperry Ranch elk hunt crew. Our long standing chief of operations and guiding, Mr. Jim Scott was developing visual problems, and opted not to go. I had never been there without him, and somehow, it didn't feel right. A goodly crew of returners, including Mel, Tom, Darwin, The Kluss boys, Mitch, Dean, and Willie, Mr Bill Johnson, and Eric the new man made a rather smaller crew than usual. No lack of experience here, but no clear leader of the pack. We would decide goings on by committee, trying to decide WWMSD (what would Mr. Scott do?)

Darwin and I, with Molly and Sonny in tow, lit out early on Thurs. morning. The trip to Fr. Collins to overnight with Darwin's family, was punctuated with 2 Cabela's visits, though not many purchases. We had a very fine accomodation for the horses as well as a fine welcome from the Colorado Snooks. I only wish I was half the hunter Christopher thinks I am.

Day 2's trip was highlighted by having an overheated motor at the Eisenhower tunnel. Many thanks to the local GM dealer for promptly and courteously replacing the fan clutch. Never mind that it was pricey compared to local service. We ascended the McClure pass without any of the frequently falling rocks there displaying themselves for us. The last to arrive, we had plenty of help getting tack, gear, and ourselves settled. The everning's meeting to decide strategy seemed to be without a keel, but we managed to decide what to do. Since we were short, places like the flat rock, and volkswagen rock were stands we left out. No one minded, in that they were always the last to get sun, and notoriously cold. Besides, you just had to cover the most reliable stands, the putting green, pole pile, ant hill, Jim's spruce, and a few more.

Morning brought another great mountain breakfast, and we assembled our mounts in the dark. Seemed chill to me, so I included my rain gear, tied securelly behind the saddle. We heard only the creak of saddle leather, and an occasional bugle as we rode out in the darkness. Once settled, with light approaching, it became evident that I'd better leave my stand and retrieve my rain gear. Having done so, I spent 4 hours watching the mist turn to snowflakes, then a steady snow fall. I didn't see an elk. Our lunch meeting showed me that no one else had either. A few hours into the afternoon we were all cold, and those who hadn't carried their rain gear were wet also. Back to the ranch for warmth and dry seemed to be the consensus. Elk weren't moving, and we would rally to hunt another day. Day 2 we made a mistake as well. Anxious to put some elk in the meat shed, we rode out with fog in the distance. As we ascended it became increasingly thick, and though we knew we pushed several elk off Round hill, we only saw a few and shot only one. After field dressing it, we began to notice clearing, and wondered "what if" we'd not been impatient and could have actually seen more than 50 yards. Afternoon brought little in the way of action, so a halt was called to our organized hunt. Darwin asked me if I would like to see the new path to our favorite spot, "the putting green" where we have combined for half dozen bulls in the past. I agreed and we pushed our flatland horses hard to achieve the top. Once there, I suggested we sit the stand for a while, since the weather was now pleasant, and we were close. Old buddies, we, we found a couple of oakies, tied our horses, and basked in the sunshine, while hearing enough bugles to keep us interested and from nodding off to naps. Just as I wondered if Dar would suggest we leave before sun set, out walked a really nice bull. "kill him Darwin" whispered I, and drop him he did. We got pictures, swiftly as two guys can field dress a 500 pound critter, did so, and mounted for a ride in in the dark. Both horses had been there before so we pretty much basked in our glory, retold the story and how we'd tell it, and let the horses take us off the mountain. Displaying bloodied hands to our campmates gathered waiting for us was indeed a pround moment.

Monday brought relaxed hunting. On the board and with beautiful weather,. We had some luck, and managed to hang a second of our three allowed cow elk. We also had a near miss on what was termed by those who saw him as a really big bull. Maybe tomorrow we'd get him. We chose to alot stands by who'd not killed an elk in the longest, and I was allowed a return trip to the pole pile while we worked Round Hill. This time we were in luck and the hillside became alive with elk. A couple I saw were big white ones, a probable sign of a mature bull. Binoculars confirmed that, and though it took 3 rounds, I put one of them on the ground. Tom had collected our 3rd cow. This gave us 5 of 9, way above average for the state, but shy of our usual success.

The rest of the day, we labored to get the guys with open tags in range of an elk, and even extended it into the morning on Wed. Not to be, we broke camp, reveled in the nice weather we'd finally had, the absence of any injuries ( a fact we do not take lightly any more), and the opportunity we'd had to join with each other, the mountain, and the game. As satiated as hunters get, and with next year already in mind we took off for Iowa. A call to afore mentioned Mr. Scott allowed him to add his thoghts as we discussed out first effort without him. Memories of Don, Max, Eugene and other old campmates, as well as the recent success kept Darwin and me awake as we crossed the area homeward. We'd been in the land of the Chevy commercial "no Service" cell phones for a week, going at horseback pace instead of call waiting, email, text messages, and road rage speed limits. It felt good, and will need frequent repeats.