Right Place, Right Time


It had been a long climb since 4:30 that morning, I rode the horse up until I was about a half mile from the top then hobbled him at a small meadow so he could eat while I quietly slipped on up the mountain. I eased up over the edge of Johnny Bull header and peaked over the edge. The landscape fell off at about thirty or more degrees towards the little town of Rico, Colorado about ten or so miles away and I could see the smoke from the wood heaters and fireplaces hanging over the spruce and pine trees at the bottom of the valley in town. The snow had melted there above timberline and the dry summer grass was thick wherever there was dirt to grow between the rocks. The twelve thousand or so foot altitude was certainly no place for sissies and I had to take a few minutes before I was clear enough to see what might be feeding on the high alpine meadow there above timberline. As I gazed over the majestic view of the mountains, valleys and timber around me and into the far distant reaches, I could only wonder how anyone could believe there was no God. I gave thanks in my thoughts that I had the strength and know how to be here and hopefully too for something that would afford me and my family sustenance for the coming year.

As I got ready to ease up a little further, I got out my 10 X 50s, took the lens covers off my old 338 Winchester and chambered a 250-grain silvertip. The elk were feeding, scattered all about the meadow and there were about a dozen mule deer bedded down under an out-cropping. There was a magnificent buck mixed in with the does and I was thinking he would be the best I had yet to put on the wall. A good ten points with some little kickers off the main beams and at least a 32" spread. I had drawn a cow elk permit also so I started looking over the herd trying to pick out a "dry cow" (one that had no calf). I figured if I got the cow on the first shot I could get the buck when he stopped to look back before going over the south edge of the header. I looked at my watch and I had about twenty minutes before I could shoot because Dan (the outfitter I was working for) was getting the other wranglers and the New York hunters in place because when I started shooting, all the elk and deer were going over the south header where the hunters would be waiting. I liked having first pick but it was the most work and the hunters were too old and tender to get where I was. A movement caught my eye about five or six hundred yards down by the edge of the timber. As I kept an eye on it, out stepped the old herd bull. What a magnificent specimen - 7 X 6 points with a 60" plus spread. He bugled at the herd and no one would answer him; I guess he had already kicked tail to let them know who was boss. He was angling up the slope and I was wishing for a movie camera. Looked at my watch again and it was time to start shooting, but I wanted the bull to get on up where he would run over the edge instead of towards the timber from where he came so the hunters would have a chance at him. I got out a snack and settled down for a few more minutes.

The sun started to peak over the La Plata Mts. East of Rico and I kind of watched it get higher and higher when I heard a shot from way down the slope towards town. I knew I had better shape up and get ready because all the animals were looking towards the sound. The big bull was up close in the herd now so I eased off my coat and bunched it up for a rifle rest. The crosshairs were clear as I centered up on the big dry cow, she was standing stock still as the crosshairs steadied behind her ear. The rifle bucked and she was instantly dead, never knew what happened. With the report echoing, all the animals were in a state of confusion running around and all of them started over the top. The big buck and two does stayed laying down under the outcropping, never moving so I just stayed still, I didn't want them to know where I was. About five minutes passed and the running herd had had time to get down to where the hunters were and I heard the shooting start. When it had stopped the old buck got up and started sneaking back down towards the timber from where the bull elk had come from. He was smart and knew he didn't want any part of what took place over the hill. I whistled real loud and he stopped, the crosshairs steadied on his heart and the rifle bucked again and he stumbled down dead on the rocks. I was thinking now I had some great eating for the winter and a great trophy set of mule deer horns.

Later that morning as we were finished loading all the deer and elk on the pack animals I could hardly wait to get back to town and get cleaned and rested up. It had been a long 10 days up in that mountain camp in the snow, weather and all. I was wanting to get back to Texas and get out of that cold weather. The hunters had all gotten good trophies and as I was talking to them I told them I was going in and would drop their animals off at the packing plant for processing and they said that they just wanted the capes and horns. Wow, what was I going to do with four extra bull elk? I figured the packing plant people would know where to get rid of them so I started the 80 or so mile drive to town when I came into the little town of Dolores and stopped at a restaurant. The parking lot was full so I had to pull around to the back of it to park. I was locking my truck when I noticed a frail woman by the back door holding a little girl. They were both bundled in tattered clothes. About that time a young boy about 12 or 14 years old opened the door and gave the woman a plate of food and a little sack of something. He had on an apron and old clothes also. I was beginning to wonder what the deal was as I went around to the front and went in the restaurant and took a seat. The waitress came and I placed my order and was just finishing when the boy pushed a cart out of the kitchen and started picking up soiled dishes at the tables. When he got to mine, I said that I had seen him at the back giving the woman the food and asked him about it. He told me that was his mother and sister and his father had been laid off from his job at the sawmill a few months before and they were having a pretty hard time, but he was promised a job starting in about three months building a new reservoir nearby. The only money they had was what he earned at the restaurant, washing dishes and he could have leftovers and scraps from the restaurant. I thought to myself how God could have put me HERE with four extra elk. I asked the boy where he lived and told him I had some extra elk meat I could give them if they wanted it. He drew me a map and I started driving to find it. About a mile out of town, his mother was walking along in the snow with the little girl.

I stopped and told her I had talked to her son and was going to her house so she got in and showed me the way. As we pulled up, there were two men in the front yard talking in front of the little three-room shack. I pulled up in the drive and got out with the woman. One of the men was her husband and the other was the landlord wanting his rent, which, of course, they didn't have. I hated to get caught in the middle of this, but you know me. When I stepped up to the landlord he wanted to know who I was and I said, "I was a friend from Texas," and wanted to settle this rent thing right now. He said they were two months behind and were going to have to move because he had to buy groceries too.

So I told him to step around to the back of the truck. He kind of paused; I guess he thought I was going to rough him up or something, but I reassured him that I had something I wanted him to see. I related the story of the hunters that didn't want their elk and told him two big elk should be worth four months' rent and that would help on his groceries and put the other man to a point where he could start his new job and start paying again.

Then I told the man and woman they could have the other two. You have never seen such gratitude in your life. We unloaded the elk and, as I was driving off, the little girl was telling her mother that her prayers had been answered. There I was with a nice dry cow and a trophy deer to last me for the winter and a warm fuzzy feeling I had helped a needy family make it through the winter. I've often thought about that family now that it's been 34 years and how they are doing now.

Mark Crider mark@cccoating.com

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