Me vs. the Great North American Elk

Reader’s Note: Since this blog is not supposed to, in any way represent reality or accurately report any facts, I have twisted some facts into complete fiction for your reading and my writing enjoyment. What is real is that I did go hunting and I did fill a tag for a calf.

I have taken up a new seasonal hobby; hunting. Hunting elk to be exact. In my humble, inexperienced opinion, there is no finer animal to pursue. If maybe you haven’t seen an elk in real life, they are sort of like a deer, except probably 5 times bigger. They really are huge and if you got in one’s way, it would have no problem killing you. So yes, there are some dangers in hunting, but if you are smart and just shoot the elk instead of trying to pet them, you should be okay.
This was my first season hunting anything in my life and it turned out to be an enjoyable experience. Especially since the hunt ended up being successful. I’ll give you the lowdown, as I choose to remember it.

I was wandering through the woods on a cold and early morning. It was the last day of hunting season and the pressure was on. If I didn’t get an elk today, I wouldn’t be able to harvest one and my family might not survive the long hard winter. It was do or die time. My senses were heightened by adrenaline and I crept very quietly through the brush. The forest was eerily silent and it felt as if I could hear my own heart pounding. Suddenly a flash up ahead! A large animal crashed out from behind a group of trees and trotted down a hill not 100 yards from me. I leveled my rifle and tracked the animal waiting for the perfect shot, until I realized it was a moose. My finger moved away from the trigger. Moose, you almost got your ass dead this morning, I thought.
I moved ahead, even more on edge now. The forest again moved back into silence. I was beginning to think that all my efforts this season were to be for nothing. I imagined the sad eyes of my family when I returned home empty handed and they realized they would be subsisting on potatoes and spam all winter. Then I saw them; a group of about six elk standing to my right, about 200 yards away behind some brush. Best of all they hadn’t noticed me. I slowly aimed my rifle and tried to decide which animal to take down. I settled on a tasty looking young calf, probably born this last spring. Tender and delicious, I licked my lips thinking about the meat that laced the baby elk’s lean body. I had it dead in my sights. I began to slow my breathing and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze….blam! One dead elk calf.

I ended up harvesting an elk calf, which technically yes, is an elk baby. But it had a few short months to develop some tasty muscles before our hunt cut its existence short. After shooting it though, we had to cut it up into manageable pieces to haul out of the woods and off to the meat processor. I’ve never cut into another animal before with a knife except maybe a fish and I guess meat on a plate. This was a little different. The animal was very warm and looked like it could wake up and kick my ass at any second. After touching its eye with a stick a few times though, I assured myself that it was, in fact, dead. We didn’t end up gutting it, so I didn’t have to get completely covered in animal goo, but I got plenty of blood on my hands skinning and wrenching the legs out of the sockets. It wasn’t that bad though. I pretty much knew what to expect. I know where our food comes from.
The best part of the entire experience ended up being a couple days later when we got to cook up a tenderloin. Seasoned with only salt and pepper and cooked to a juicy medium rare, it was one of the greatest gastronomical experiences of my life. After the first amazingly tender bite, I began to giggle to myself. It was so good! A few bites later I actually started to weep. “Oh baby elk! You are so delicious! I love you!” With tears streaming down my face, I finally came to the last bite. I was hesitant to end such an experience, but I couldn’t help myself for long. I savored that last swallow of baby elk for as long as I could and then took a good half an hour to reflect. It must be an awful curse for an animal to taste so good to the human palate. I couldn’t help thinking about what the elk had looked like lying dead in the woods and remembering cutting out the tenderloin that we had just eaten off of its carcass. A little strange, yes, but it was also a complete return to nature.
When the meat gets back from the butcher I will have a freezer full of amazing baby elk meat. It is going to be a long hard winter and I find much comfort in knowing my family and I will survive by feeding off of something I provided for them. I can’t wait until next hunting season!