My First Elk Hunt
                                                                        By Peggy Underberg

You would think that since I grew up in small town Iowa, hunting would be a natural but it wasn't. My family didn't hunt, and I couldn't imagine killing anything. Then I married Jay, a man who grew up hunting and fishing the fields and rivers of South Dakota. During our first years of marriage I didn't see Jay hunt much, but he started hunting deer again. I learned quickly that you don't make holiday dinner plans on the opening weekend of West River deer season. (What were the Pilgrims thinking?) It didn't take me long to learn how to butcher a deer and get over the "oh icky" syndrome.
Then Jay had this great idea that I should apply for an elk tag, because if more of us applied, the better our chances. This year my tag was drawn, and I was not the least excited. "Oh no, not me. What rotten luck!"
As the months ticked away toward hunting season, I practiced with my hunting gun. I thought this would be pretty easy. The elk would be out in the open; I would be hiding in the trees, and I would shoot her dead right where she stood. (Are you all laughing yet?)
Hunting season arrived. We packed for a week, loaded the quad (ATV) and the truck and headed for the Hills. We set up camp in a beautiful area and then went four-wheelin' scouting for elk. We didn't see any animals but did see beautiful country and fall colors. Opening day, after a late start that was not my fault, we headed south of camp a mile or so dressed in our stylish cammo and orange. We stealthily maneuvered through the woods for a few hours but saw only two deer and a couple of hunters. We decided that it was time for breakfast; those sausage and eggs were calling our names. An hour later we were ready to go find that elk. That’s when cousin Jeff, his wife Kim, and friend Randy drove into camp. They were there to help. Kim had an elk bugle that she used last year to call in Jeff's cow. They unloaded their Argo (off-road vehicle), and off we went. We rode and stopped and rode and stopped, seeing one group of elk and watching them run off. Jay and I walked a while, and I said to Jay, "hunting is pretty, but it sure is boring.”
Then we saw Jeff and Kim, and Jeff was waving his arms, pointing up the hill. “Kim is bulging and getting a lot of bugles back.”
"Oh no, it couldn't be another hunter could it?" We started up the hill, and Kim and the bull were having quite a conversation. Finally everyone stopped and started pointing to my left. I didn’t see anything. Jay grabbed the Steady-Stix, and I put the gun on them (I still didn't see anything). Everyone was whispering and pointing. Finally I saw them in the scope. I wasn’t getting a clear picture, but saw one I thought that I could hit. Now remember, this was not what I had been picturing months ago. (Remember, open area, me in the trees?) I shot and I was sure I hit her. Jeff said not, I missed. I handed Jay the gun, and my hands would not stay open. The muscles kept pulling my hands into fists. I was a little upset about this. Jay said that the death grip I had on the gun might be what caused this event. Jay and Jeff were trying to calm me and get me to breathe because they didn't want to have to revive me (hunting sure is boring). I finally got my hands working, and someone said, "There they are over to your right."
Kim bugled, and Mr. Bull answered. They sounded close. Again everyone saw them but me. I looked in the scope and saw one so I shot. I was sure I missed. We headed out to look. Jeff checked out the area of the first shot I took, nothing there, no blood. He came over to where we are looking, and Kim headed further over to the west. We saw blood and started following. We saw lots of blood, and soon Kim yelled, "Look what I found."
My first question was, "Is she dead?"
"Yes, very" came the reply. Several tears rolled down my cheeks. It was over. Everyone was excited but me. It all happened so fast that I don't think that I had processed what just went on. It took a few hours, but after a shower, some beverage and a lot of talk about the whole hunt, I finally relaxed.
I'm finding out that killing your animal on opening day is a big deal, so I'm proud. The best part of the trip was being with my husband and family, though. The weather was a perfect 70 degrees, and the countryside was beautiful. Will I hunt again? I'm not sure, but come elk season, if one of us draws a tag I'll surely go along to see what I didn't see on my first hunt.