After All, I Did Rescue You
A Large Bull Elk was Peering from Behind His Jeep
My friend, Mike, finds peace wandering the woods. Hiking with him, he always displays a sense of calm knowing there is potential daring and inspiration around each corner. Joining him on those long walks, from Mike I have learned humility, appreciation, and a sense of greater adventure.
So when he texted one night and said, “Let’s do Fall River Road in the morning. I’ll pick you up at 5:30,” I was all for it.
It was nearly sunrise when we started up Old Fall River Road. His dilapidated Jeep was a bit bouncy like our spirits. We both knew the road well, loving the rugged, wildlife potential. He and his wife, talented photographer Darlene Bushue, had traveled it many times.
As we drove, Mike looked left. I rode watching to the right. Our eyes were absorbing the beauty, watching for movement. An elk in the trees, moose in the meadows, or a lone black bear across the valley lumbering up the mountain side. We were keen to catch a glimpse of movement revealing life.
Just past the four mile marker we had the first sighting, a patch of brown across a meadow on the edge of the pine trees. Stopping, we moved from the Jeep, my camera up as a cow moose meandered into the tall grass, a month old calf running to keep up. As I captured images, Mike moved like he often does for Darlene, looking for the perfect angle, a better shot, a more interesting perspective. He guided me to capture better images.
Leaving the cow and calf, four miles later we crested treeline at 11,400 ft. where several cow elk grazed on the hillside below Old Fall River Road. Mike pulled his Jeep to the side, and we walked up the road watching the elk. Comfortable with our presence, they continued grazing as we admired their beauty.
Looking back toward the Jeep, an expletive escaped from my throat. Mike looked where I was swearing. A fairly large bull elk was peering from behind his Jeep, watching us not with a look of curiosity, but one of irritation. “This is not good,” I said.
Mike laughed nervously as we backed up the road, two guys unprotected and one scary looking bull elk coming our way. We kept backing away and the elk, his eyes glaring, kept coming. We looked from side-to-side for an escape route on the barren mountain side.
A good fifty yards from the Jeep, Mike motioned to me. He would walk up the hillside through the thicket and around the elk to his Jeep. Good plan, I thought, not so excited about being left alone on the road with one irritable eight-hundred pound bull glaring unpleasant intentions.
Mike disappeared among the small, thousand year old tree shrubs while the elk turned back toward me. I was completely vulnerable, or, to put it another way, I was in deep elk doo-doo. The bull elk kept coming faster than I could walk backwards.
A moment later, Mike reappeared behind the Jeep. The best laid plan was not working so well. As he eased the Jeep forward, Mike was herding a five-by-five velvet elk directly at me pushing the bull up Old Fall River Road. Backing away, I had nowhere to go, and the elk knew it. I reached for the bear spray I carry in Yellowstone…Well, this wasn’t Yellowstone.
Like a bull fighter without a cape, I was more than vulnerable. Mike pointed at me through the Jeep window, chuckling at my predicament. While it was funny from inside the Jeep, the elk kept getting closer and bigger as his eye bore into mine. More expletives escaped me.
Mike eased the Jeep to the side of the road, and the elk meandered over to the down hill edge. A hand stuck out the Jeep window giving me a thumbs up. Much to my relief, he gradually moved past the bull, and I breathed fresh mountain air once again.
When I hopped into the safety of the Jeep, I fought for breath. “So,” I asked. “Did you want me to get stomped?” Mike was too busy laughing to answer.
“Thanks buddy.” I laughed to my own relief.
“Of course,” he answered, “After all. I did rescue you.”
While he teased, I knew he had been doing everything he could to save me. Mike understands wildlife behavior, and this would be an adventure he’d remember. To him, elk are a thing of beauty, moose make him smile, and walking into the wilds with a good friend is his idea of life being right.
In his calm, kind, and playful way, he pointed at my camera, “Did you get any good shots?”
Grinning, I answered, “I did.”
“All because I pushed him toward you.” He was laughing again, and I joined him, smiling at my relief. “You’re a good man, Mike.”
