Art, Been there, done that, 'sno fun (sorry, bad pun). Funny thing about the air, when I was a teenager, I would get deathly sick from any exertion above 8,000 feet. By the time I was 19, it didn't bother me. I guess a guy's lungs mature about then. Now, if I spend one day in the high country, I get used to it.
A side note about that 1964 trip, it was almost Grandad's last. When he shot the big bull way up on top, he thought he may have also hit a spike, so he ran all the way back down the mountain chasing the spike. Finally realized he had not hit the spike, but remembered he had left that big bull way up top, he RAN all the way back up before someone found it. Grandad was 61 years old then (yes he was a Model 1903
). When dad found him, he was all gray and clutching his chest. Dad and his buddies got the elk and grandad back down and grandad spent the next day in his sleeping bag, very sick.
He hunted for another 10 years though, and passed away in 1984.
I don't know how many animals were hanging there, but in those days the men stayed up there until they filled up or the season ended, so there are probably 4-6 elk there.
