Trey Veston
Member
Found a box hidden in a chest of drawers that had a ton of old photos that I had forgotten existed.
Found some incredible pics of my dad on safari, his Grand Slam hunts, and my first ever elk.
Taken in 1983 or so near Salmon, ID when I was 13 or 14 years old. Not sure of the dates.
Large cow elk was taken at around 200 yards with one shot from my first hunting rifle; a Winchester Model 70 XTR Featherweight in .257 Roberts.
I still have that rifle all these decades later...
My dad and I had hiked in many miles on opening day and waited on the side of mountain on a private ranch, overlooking public land. Dad said as soon as the sun comes up, the shooting will start and force the elk onto the private land and right by us.
Sure enough, when it started getting light out, the shooting started and about 30 elk started filtering out of the trees, down the hillside, and instead of coming up to us, the stayed down in the draw and circled around behind us.
We had to run around the mountain and finally caught up with a few strays on a hillside across from us. I fired once, and the cow tumbled down the hill out of sight.
My dad slapped me on the back and said now the real work begins, as we were miles from the truck.
When we got to the bottom of the draw, we discovered that the elk had landed on a logging road. My dad said I was the luckiest SOB he'd ever seen. Still, while we were quartering it, it started raining, and dad said he didn't want to risk getting stuck, so we ended up packing it out about half a mile.
Pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten stuck; just wanted me to have to pack out my first elk at least a little ways.
So excited to have found the photo!
Found some incredible pics of my dad on safari, his Grand Slam hunts, and my first ever elk.
Taken in 1983 or so near Salmon, ID when I was 13 or 14 years old. Not sure of the dates.
Large cow elk was taken at around 200 yards with one shot from my first hunting rifle; a Winchester Model 70 XTR Featherweight in .257 Roberts.
I still have that rifle all these decades later...
My dad and I had hiked in many miles on opening day and waited on the side of mountain on a private ranch, overlooking public land. Dad said as soon as the sun comes up, the shooting will start and force the elk onto the private land and right by us.
Sure enough, when it started getting light out, the shooting started and about 30 elk started filtering out of the trees, down the hillside, and instead of coming up to us, the stayed down in the draw and circled around behind us.
We had to run around the mountain and finally caught up with a few strays on a hillside across from us. I fired once, and the cow tumbled down the hill out of sight.
My dad slapped me on the back and said now the real work begins, as we were miles from the truck.
When we got to the bottom of the draw, we discovered that the elk had landed on a logging road. My dad said I was the luckiest SOB he'd ever seen. Still, while we were quartering it, it started raining, and dad said he didn't want to risk getting stuck, so we ended up packing it out about half a mile.
Pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten stuck; just wanted me to have to pack out my first elk at least a little ways.
So excited to have found the photo!
