I was supposed to go with my dad; however, he came down with some sort of nasty virus the night before we were going to leave and had to back out. It was just me up there. On one hand, I was free to hunt when and how I desired. On the other, I exercise a little more caution when I go hunting by myself, so I didn't go on any long hikes or stray from my designated areas by much just in case something bad decided to happen.
I loaded up my rented A-liner. For one person, this thing was the perfect size, pulled like a champ, and kept me nice and toasty during the cold mountain nights. I could only imagine that it would have been a little bit tight with two people, and three people would have been a nightmare. I wish they made these things a bigger (as in big enough for a family of four), because I love how it folds down, but is still a hard-sided trailer.
The next morning I got up early, went back to my spot and decided to move into the trees a bit more. As I was hiking in, I found a wonderful area with tons of tracks and sign. I set up and started hitting my cow call hoping for the best. It wasn't 30 minutes later I hear an ATV coming up the logging road nearby. Much to my chagrin, said ATV stops and fires two shots at what I surmise was the bull elk I was calling in. What do you do? I would have done the same thing, but it was frustrating nonetheless. As the morning drags on, I still don't see anything, so I decide to pack it up and move on. That evening I went out to the area where the other hunters were successful. I wanted to see if I could find the kill site. I couldn't find it, but I did find this awesome open glade that looked promising, so I set up there for the evening. Again, nothing.