Mike Tyson Bull
I was on the calls and the camera supporting my brother who drew a central New Mexico elk tag. For some reason the rut had slowed to a near halt, and after a harvest moon, we were struggling to find the elk. So, we made the decision to go deep into the dark high timber to try and find a bull in his bedroom. After a couple of close encounters in the thick we discovered an area that looked like a battle zone where two bulls had sparred quite aggressively. Instead of hitting the bugle and cow calls we opted to scrape some dead-fall to attempt to spark some interest. Out of the abyss came a very quiet, almost squeaky bugle. As we set up for a shot against what we thought might be a rag-horn this monster appeared out of nowhere, head six inches from the ground and ready to fight. The bull’s voice didn’t match his stature as he scraped and knocked over dead trees and branches searching for my brother and I. Jeff leveled his bow and released what looked like the perfect shot. “Mike T” ran back into the the abyss. Patiently we called and waited and got him to return for another opportunity. For some reason this bull wanted to fight and returned a second and third time when he was fatally harvested. Great job to my brother! I am so thankful to have been part of the experience. I think I sound like a squeaky donkey on the bugle and believe that my calls simply irritated this incredible trophy enough for him to dig in for a big fight.