In November, 2007, I had a knee operation. I hunted the 2008 archery season for elk, and by the end of the season, I was in a lot of pain from my knee, I was tired, and I didn’t want to walk a lot. On the last day of the archery season, I went to an area in New Mexico that hadn’t been hunted very much. I hadn’t seen much sign in this region in previous months, but the hunting pressure around this spot had moved the elk into this place.

Early in the morning of the last day, I heard an elk bugle twice. Well, it wasn’t really a bugle. He gave two deep pitiful growls, sounding like a big old Brahma bull. So, I told Phillip Vanderpool, my videographer for the hunt, “I’m tired, worn-out and hurting, and we chased elk all day yesterday. I know where there’s a dirt stock tank with water in it, and if that bull’s in that area, he’ll go to that tank. Let’s go check it out.”
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