As my ear was getting numb and my finger kept hitting the redial button I could bearly stand the anticipation. Finally, The Arizona Game and Fish Department answered and I went through the process of finding out if I had gotten drawn for the 1996 Archery Bull Elk Hunt. When the recording stated I was drawn, I could not believe it. You see, I had been drawn for the same unit last year and did not bag the bull I wanted. I was turning thirty this year two days before the hunt and my wife always asked me "What do you want for your birthday?" I would always tell her a Trophy Bull Elk. Eventually, she didn’t ask me any more, she always knew what my response would be. Her only stipulation was that if I did shoot one big enough to mount, I would have to buy her a new house since ours does not have any vaulted ceilings. I agreed and felt like we would both come out winners. As the season grew closer, and after a few scouting trips, I was a little discouraged because of the amount of sign I found. Last year we had a pretty good rainfall and most of the tanks that we concentrated hunting around were full of water, but this year was much drier and alot of the tanks didn’t have any water in them. You see, the area that we hunt is mostly scrub oak, cedars, and junipers that only have dead water (no running water, springs, rivers, ect..) that is held in trick tanks caused from rainfall. Alot of the Elk moved to higher country that held water and was much cooler. I contacted my Uncle, John McClendon to get some pointers on a few places that might have some pockets of elk in my area. He mentioned an area that had some nice bulls in it and thought it would be a great area to start the hunt. My father, Lawrence McClendon, joined Kristopher my son and myself for the hunt, to help and for moral support. We arrived at our camp the day before the hunt and went out to scout. We got to an area to glass and watched a nice bull drink from a tank. We also spotted two nice bulls feeding about 200 yards from the tank. We felt like we were set for our morning hunt. That was until we keep hearing hunters coming in to camp near us that evening. We got up the next morning hoping to call some nice bulls in, and seemed to hear and see only hunters. Those Elk did the famous disappearing act like they always seem to do while being pressured. That night we had a gully washer rainstorm. Luckily we had our 4x4 Polaris’s to get us out and glass in the morning. It was still somewhat overcast and we were able to locate the area where the elk moved off to. Considering the mud and rough terrain, it took us about one hour to go twelve miles into the area where the elk were. A couple of bulls were pushing each other around and were bugling some what. We felt like they might start into the rut really soon. The cold weather helps in the progress of the rut, especially in the warmer area that we hunt. On Saturday, Dad had to leave for a previous engagement. That evening Kristopher and I got on a nice bull that would score around 300. Since Kristopher was only six and it was his first big game hunt, I wanted to attempt to take the bull. We glassed him from across a canyon and got set up to possibly call him in. I began cow calling with no response, but keep feeding in our direction. He got within about 100 yards and began to come in, that is until the wind shifted. He turned his head up in the air and whirled around, a second later and it was over. Kristopher asked me "what happened?" I explained that one of the elk’s best defense, is its ability to smell. He was upset and wanted me to go after the bull. We couldn’t, it was getting dark very quickly and we needed to get back to the quad. Upon arriving at the quad we discovered we had a flat on the front tire. I had a can of never leak in a box on my bike and put the sealant in the tire. It lasted about the first six miles, and we crippled on in to camp for the last six. I needed to be at work on Monday so we left our camp trailer there only because I would be back up the following Friday.

I worked until Thursday trying to get new front tires for my quad and finishing up items at my employment. This way I could take the remaining week of the hunt off to find a nice bull. My Uncle called on Thursday to tell me of an area that had two nice bulls in it and one of them would score 370 plus. He was guiding Dan Agnew (1996 Governors auction elk tag) in parts of my unit so he had spotted these elk during his hunt. He couldn’t tell me how to get into the area over the phone and that he would have to draw me a map and insisted us to come up to his camp to find out how to get into the area. Kristopher couldn’t take a week out of school so Lawrence and I took off to meet John at his camp to get a pin point on these elk. John mentioned that there weren’t alot of elk in the area, but there were two nice bulls in a specific spot, and were possibly watering at two certain water holes that didn’t look to have much hunting pressure. We got the information we needed and were off. We arrived at our old camp site after dark and decided to hunt there in the morning to see if we could locate some bulls in that area. We didn’t have much luck, as a matter of fact, we didn’t even hear one bugle. We decided to move to the area that John told us about.

Upon arriving in the area, we found a camp right at the end of the road that the tanks were on and we were going to hunt around. We didn’t know it at the time but the road into the tanks was about three miles of sheer torture in a four wheel drive. We found the road and could run it rather quickly on our quads, and only one vehicle had been down it during the hunt. The guys at that camp must have hunted south of their camp because they packed up and moved their camp to another location. I don’t believe they even knew about the road up to the two tanks. One of the tanks had a blind already made on it, so I decided to concentrate on the other smaller tank. It did not have a blind on it and I could shoot all the way across it. We made a nice blind and I put orange markers along the water to mark yardage’s so if I got a shot I wouldn’t have to try and judge the yardage. . Dad would concentrate on the other tank so if anything started hitting it I could move to it. We began hunting around the tanks in the mornings and sitting in the blinds in the evening. The elk would mostly bugle in the morning for about one hour and was very difficult to set up and try to call them in. One morning, I got a nice bull answering my call, so I moved in on him and got to within 20 yards. He was raking his horns on a cedar tree and was tearing it apart. I didn’t have a clear shot at him and watched for about five minutes and noticed that he would score around 300 points. Finally, I decided to move possibly to get a clear shot at him. Once I moved around a tree, I couldn’t hear him anymore and knew something was up. He had seen me move. He then began to move on off, as I began cow calling him he would turn around and look for the cow, but it was so thick I never could get a clear shot. The evenings always brought me back to my tank. I had sat on it for three nights in a row with only two cows with calves coming in on one evening. Dad had a couple of small bulls with cows watering at the tank he was sitting on and filmed them. After looking at them on the video camera, I decided to stay on my tank. I still wanted a Trophy or nothing. On the fourth night I pulled into the tank around 5:00 p.m. I noticed that my knife had come off of my belt somewhere between my bike and the tank so I walked back to my bike to look for it. I got lucky and found it laying next to my bike. I then noticed some cattle grazing off on the ridge and wondered when they will come in to water. I returned to my blind and waited another 15 minutes and heard some animals coming in to water. Thinking that the cattle were coming in to drink, I didn’t get my bow into position for a shot. When the animals came into view, I was surprised to see a cow elk with her calf. They came in to water and began feeding on the opposite side of the tank, and eventually moved off into the timber. I then moved into a shooting position and began cow calling. On occasion, I could hear what sounded like an elk raking his horns on a tree. I looked at my watch and it was 6:28, my knees were hurting and I needed to rest them, so I sat back down, cow called, and started relaxing thinking it would be another 15 minutes before anything would come in to water. Then movement caught my eye just to my left. The bull moved past a small opening and behind a large cedar tree. I knew he was big and my first reaction was "Heavenly father please help me!" I moved into a shooting position and waited for him to come on down to the water. He came out from behind the tree and walked right up to the water and never seemed to have a care in the world. He looked right at me and I thought he had seen me for a split second, then he put his head down and began drinking. He was facing in my direction and turned somewhat broadside. I knew my shot had to be perfect to place it in front of the shoulder and not too much in the neck. As I pulled my arrow across the rest, it seemed like it was making a loud scratch and I could not believe the bull never looked up. I placed my 30 yard pin on the big bulls chest right in front of the right shoulder and let’er rip. The arrow sunk deep into the bulls chest right where I aimed. He bolted across the middle of the pond and my arrow snapped off on the other side. I then cow called and he stopped for a second and began walking. I could hear him in the timber coughing and gasping for air, so I knew that I had a good hit. I looked at my watch and it was 6:33 p.m. I knew that I had better wait at least 30 minutes before I started looking for him even with a good hit. At 6:45 p.m. it was getting dark fast and I couldn’t stand the anticipation of waiting, so I decided to look for him. As I followed his tracks I stepped around a cedar tree and there he laid dead. I could not believe it, he went down only 40 yards from where I shot him. He was a beautiful belated birthday trophy bull elk. 

I tagged him and took off to the tank where dad was sitting. As I pulled up he came out of his blind and knew something was up since it was still light. I mentioned that a rag horn bull came in and I deiced to take him. We gave high five’s and I told him we need to try and track him before it gets dark on us. When we pulled up to the bulls tracks and preceded to follow them right to the bull, I asked "How’s that for a rag horn?" He couldn’t believe it, we hugged, cheered and gave some more high five’s. With my bow sitting there and my tag already on the horns he knew I had set him up. While cleaning him I found the tip of the arrow inside the chest cavity and noticed that the 4 blade 140 grain Rocky Mountain Razor did its job. It had cut into the main artery to the heart and imbedded itself in the left lung. We didn’t get back to camp that night until 2:00 a.m. but we had did it, I got my Trophy bull elk.

It took me two more years to finally buy the house with vaulted ceilings and he looks great hanging on the wall.