As was the tradition of Eagle Spirit, the guides were allowed to hunt on the land the last couple of days of the last season. Since Denny had drawn an elk tag for an earlier season he could not hunt with his fellow guides during third season. He asked the owner if he could have his one-legged friend take his place so that I might experience an elk hunt. The owner said yes and the continuing adventure of the handicapped hunter began.

Well I had a little over a month to prepare for this adventure. I didn't even own a gun at the time so I borrowed one from my friend Michael. Nothing much else was needed for this hunt for we stayed in a fabulous lodge staring at the Steamboat side of Rabbit Ears pass. Meals were prepared by a gourmet chef imported from Australia. Day packs of sandwiches and snacks were also provided. This was one class act of a hunting outfit. I felt quite privileged to have been asked to participate in what, at the time, I thought would be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for this crip to hunt big game in the mountains of Colorado.

I signed up for and completed my hunter safety course and the last thing I needed was to purchase an over-the-counter bull elk tag. I remember Denny constantly reminding me to get mine. I think I waited until the Thursday before third season began.

The day came and I arrived at the lodge and found it to be quite comfortable, not exactly what I would thought of when imagining what a big game hunt was suppose to be like. Where were the wall tents, sleeping bags, cook stoves and other amenities that gave the flavor of an outdoor adventure?

The next morning found us up before dawn to consume some coffee and breakfast, pack our day packs and be off for the day. We didn’t see much for most of the day. All of the guides were pretty darn good fellows. The weather had been unusually mild for the whole hunting season. The ground had not yet frozen and a fresh foot and a half of pearly white snow blanketed the landscape. I remember the sky was a rich blue and snow fell from the branches of the pines and aspen in unexpected sheets.

We parked the vehicles at a fork in the road. The plan was to post ole gimpy a hundred yards up the fork in the road to the right while the rest of the party went to higher ground to push something toward me. I shouldered my rifle, grabbed my swivel camp stool and headed up the road on my crutches. I was posted about fifty yards North of a trail elk had been using to get to a pristine meadow of rolling grass from the high country.

I sat there, waiting and waiting and waiting some more. I began to get in touch with the rhythm of nature. I expected silence, but was enchanted by the sound of the wind as it rustled through the tall pines. I can still hear the those trees creaking ever so slightly. The was an occasional squawk of a hawk and the musical chirping of lesser birds. My wanderlust daydreaming was, from time to time interrupted by a snap of a branch from higher ground. What a rush to go from whimsical free thought to full focus of attention in seconds. Eyes scanning the forest, looking for a telltale sign of whatever was connected to the breaking of the branch. Perhaps it was the guys, maybe it was a cow elk leading the herd down to the grazing area. Whatever it was, it was sure time to pay attention. I checked the to make sure a round was chambered and the safety was on.

As I stared into the woods my eyes began to glaze over just about the time my mind did. I began to wonder what a wounded bull elk acts like. Does it instinctively know what hurt him and what direction it came from? Does he charge anything that is out of place to protect the herd? I was wishing that I brought my handicapped parking placard along so that maybe if I did wound one he would have sympathy for me like so many of the folks in the city. Na! A wounded elk was not going to take time to read the placard or know what the symbol of a person in a wheel chair meant. If I was to survive the attack of a charging hurt bull I was going to need a plan. I looked left and right and the twenty five foot pine tree a dozen feet to my right caught my eye. It lowest branches were barely off the ground and I could make it there in two, maybe three hops. I thought I could play Sambo with that elk and turn him into butter. I reached into the storage sack under my seat and carefully took out another six rounds and put them in my jacket pocket. Where are those guys? They had been gone for about two hours now. I don’t know if anyone else’s mind swirls through the trees and does rainbow dances with wild animals like mine does. But it sure was fun. I did make a mental note to purchase a good handgun with significant stopping power for next year’s hunt. You see, four hours into the first day of my first hunt and I was hooked! I knew I was going to be coming back.

The guides finally returned after not being able to spot any elk above. We backed down the road a few hundred yards to a spot overlooking a pristene meadow; a meadow where many wapiti had been taken before. I sat patiently in Denny's vehicle, while he showed his prowess in stalking an elusive elk across the meadow. Denny slowly made his way through a forest of aspen trees about five hundred yards away on the South end of the meadow. He slowly made his way through the trees, stopping every so often to check for fresh tracks and other signs of elk.

He stopped on the South end of a large thicket and pointed towards the dense brush. As if by magic, fifty yards North of him a great five by five bull appeared out of nowhere and stood majestically on the outskirts of the meadow. It was a two hundred and fifty yard shot. I raised my rifle and peered intently through the scope. I tried to relax and remember to breath. The cross hairs were placed right behind the left shoulder, a little more than a foot from his back. I tried to remain calm as I carefully squeezed the trigger. I heard no sound as I counted; one one thousand, two one thousand, three one. I continued to stare down the scope as the great animal reeled on his hind legs and feel to the ground. It was just the way I had imagined it would be in my daydreams since the I found out I would be going on the this hunt.