Dome Mountain Ranch offers archery hunters the opportunity to hunt private, forest service and wilderness areas: These hunts have become some of our most successful. We limit our hunters each week and as a result can provide some unusually successful hunts. Archery hunts seem to have their own unique twist and memories. In addition, it is tough to explain or share just what it is like on one of these hunts with a potential hunter. Perhaps the best way to allow a hunter to gain insight is to tell the story of another. However, it is also important to point out that no two stories are ever alike, be it successful with the harvest or everything else that is involved.

This is not a story about elaborate gear, trophies on the wall, record books, fancy scopes, expensive 500-yard rifles or any of that easy to write about stuff. This is about the real stuff, big hearts and determination. This is about friendships, both old and those that can be born while in the woods and doing what we love. To many, hunting is hunting, but to others it is much more. In any
hunting story that is told I believe it is important to keep in mind that even the most carefully chosen words never really come close to accurately describing emotions, scenery and certain situations. Nothing will ever compare to being there.

I moved here from Pennsylvania chasing a dream years back. It still seems like yesterday when I was in the lush, dense forests of home. Here at Dome Mountain many humbling experiences have provided me with a great education as well as the knowledge that there is always more learning to come. When we stop this, we might as well stop hunting. I have guided a variety of hunters in my time here, yet some of the sweetest of memories are those of guiding an old friend from my younger days. The memories are branded in my heart not completely relative to
the friendship, but for the actual events that took place on this hunt as well.

Mike and I bow hunted a lot in Pennsylvania, as a matter of fact, one of my broadheads still sticks in the side of his garage serving as a monument of a lost bet. Mike could tell a lot of stories, some of them I hope he keeps to himself. Although those days seem like long ago, hunting memories are like favorite songs of the past. Mike began his interest in a hunt here a few years ago. At first I thought it was just talk, which us hunters like to do on occasion. In addition to that, what time Mike is not in the woods he spends working to make ends meet. I figured the last thing he would do was allot a large portion of his income to a guided hunt. He did book a hunt, making me realize that the value of a dollar is different for each person that invests it. Looking back, I am sure Mike did not even mention the "cost" of such a hunt were you to get him telling these same stories.

Mike did everything I wished every hunter would do. He practiced his shot daily, he studied, he made use of knowledge of other elk hunters; he worked to get in the best shape possible. He did not go out and try to prepare using the mighty dollar, instead he invested in knowledge and prepared as best he could. Most of all, he called a lot, asked a lot questions and listened to what I had to say.

Mike arrived at Dome Mountain after a 2-day drive alone. That is about 2,000-mile trip from Pennsylvania! Shortly after his arrival he was atop a horse at 6,000 feet in complete blackness. This type of situation not only serves to calm a man down, but without choice, places all his trust in a four-legged critter. We traversed several thousand feet through steep terrain and thick timber. Once atop Dome Mountain daylight allowed us to locate some elk and attempt to predict their direction of travel back up the mountain from the previous night's feeding. The elk were about a mile below us. Off we went on foot in an effort to "get into them". An hour or so later we made it close enough to begin a quieter and more intentional stalk. Elk and predictable are two words that should never, ever be used in the same sentence! There we were, the elk now somehow had passed us and were headed back up the 45-degree slope we just struggled down; Cows talking, bulls bugling and grunting. We had no choice but to turn around and head back up the way we had come. At some point during this climb I looked back at Mike, and although he was right on my heels I could not help but wonder why I had never seen him this white before, which then made me review my CPR training. When you spend the better part of your life at an elevation of 1,000 feet, then begin your hunt the next day at 8,000, you realize just how thin the air can be!

With pounding chests we continued climbing, calling and stalking. Each time we would get close the elk would move another 100 yards up. Enduring the painful, but exciting climb, we finally found a way to get around them and right into them. In the shadows of the timber were the sounds, sights and smells that are best described as Jurassic Park. All around us were elk. Each move we made was careful and methodical. Several bulls began to gain interest in our calling feeling they were being threatened by another brave bull. In the heavy trees and steep terrain, seeing more than 40 yards in any direction would have been a long way.

Sitting tight in a chosen stand an occasional cow or spike elk would walk by only a few yards away. About this same time just above us one bull got real serious. The sound of his throaty bugle and raking antlers on trees told us he meant business. I was hunkered below a rock on a ridge trail, Mike just a few yards ahead of me, it looked like the perfect set up. Mike having the better view of the elk I continued to give my sweetest of cow calls. Looking at him I saw him draw back his bow, eyes intent and concentrated on something above him. It was a look I knew all too well. Then, the clean release of an arrow, the sound of a true hit and 600 pounds of animal crashing through the timber just a few yards above me. With one last cow call from me, the bull stopped and expired just above me on the ridge.

At this point there are no words that can give justice to the epiphany and mixture of emotions a hunter and guide experience; this once in a lifetime experience: Less than 10% of archery hunters are successful. My friend had just lived this moment in only a few hours. After the photos and hugging are all over, there is the other part of elk hunting. After downing the elk before noon, we had finally caped, quartered and packed it out by 9:00 p.m. that evening. Mike returned again the following year, and believe it or not, he found success once again. This is a whole other story that is best told person to person.