This is jockel podcast number 334 with echo Charles and me jocke a willing good evening. I go good evening

We were sitting by a fixed section of reprod the logging term for young timber when I heard the high pitched bugle of a male elk

The 15 foot tall trees shifted like the parting of the seas and a massive bull stepped out onto the logging road

I was leaning on my knees trying to look invisible as the black horned six by seven bull bore holes through me with his eyes

He was in bow range and when I decided that I should try to kill him the thing I'd been practicing to do for months

I realized that it felt like my arms were asleep and my heart was beating out of my chest. I

Don't know if I can even pull this bow back the bull stood there only 40 yards away from me

There was no question I should be able to kill him. I'd shot thousands of arrows at this distance all summer

I pulled back the bow string and released

The arrow missed the bull shot behind his butt that meant I was about seven feet off my mark which was ridiculous

This was what I'd call sheeding the bed

My first bow shot of my life at an animal couldn't have been much worse. I

Didn't get another opportunity that day, but something was ignited inside me

I'd never had any real ambitions or goals for myself, but something changed

Now all I knew was I wanted to kill a bull

So right after that first day hunting debacle I became obsessed and hunted for the next 18 days straight

determined to succeed

That's right 18 days straight

Finally on September 13th 1989 I killed my first bull

The first animal that ever died from one of my arrows was a small young spike bull

Granted, it wasn't anything like the giant six by seven. I blew it on, but it didn't matter

It was my first bow kill and my first bull elk

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