Dawn came cold and clear across Montana’s high country, ushering in the dawn of another opening day of elk season. My son Josiah and I climbed the trail above our camp, stalking silently up the mountainside as shooting light arrived. We had scouted hard the day before with nothing to show for our efforts, and I feared that stormy weather had moved all the elk out of the area. There were other hunters around too, more than I had hoped to encounter this far into the backcountry. We had packed in over 14 miles, hoping to escape the crowds.
Shooting light was upon us as we climbed toward a canyon-side basin, our boots wet with dew from the mountain grass. Josiah looked at me with a funny expression, and I figured his young ears had picked up something interesting. Then I heard it too – the unmistakable ring of a mature bull bugle sounded from the far side of the canyon. Excitedly, we hurried toward a rocky point that would give us a good view of the opposite canyon wall. And there they were; a herd of perhaps 18 elk feeding on a distant mountainside meadow with a big herd bull among them.
I hit the elk with my rangefinder – just over 800 yards. That’s a long, long shot under field conditions, especially when shooting at a live animal. Earlier I had told Josiah he was up first if the opportunity presented itself. He is an extraordinarily good shot and very familiar with his rifle, but this was farther than either of us had ever shot a game animal before. As I watched the elk I monitored for wind – no movement at all. It was as still as a monastery in the canyon. That would change as the day grew older, but for now, shooting conditions were ideal. Josiah was on his belly beside me, settling into his bipod, positioning a lightweight rear shooting bag, and placing several spare cartridges ready at hand.
By this time I had my Zeiss spotting scope mounted atop my Spartan tripod and was watching the elk through the scope. Other hunters moved a couple of hundred yards below us, and I knew they must be locked onto the elk themselves. I knew of at least one other group in the area; they too had likely heard the bugling bull and might be readying to shoot. It was time to make a decision.
RIFLE, OPTIC, AND AMMO
Josiah was hunting with the same rifle he’s used on all his American big game hunts, a Kimber Mountain Ascent chambered in .280 Ackley Improved. It’s one of my favorite rifles – beautifully balanced, accurate, and light as a feather. It sports a 24-inch stainless barrel over a controlled-feed action bedded in Kimber’s carbon-fiber stock. Mounted in Talley’s one-piece Lightweight Alloy Mounts is a 2-12X42 Leupold VX6 HD riflescope. The scope’s CDS ZL2 turret is custom yardage-engraved to match the rifle and ammunition’s ballistics.
Josiah was shooting Federal Premium Terminal Ascent ammunition. This ammo offers superb long-range ballistic performance and wind-bucking ability. More importantly, it provides incredible terminal performance at a wide variety of impact velocities, thanks to its solid copper shank (rear half of the bullet), bonded lead/ copper front, and slipstream polymer tip. I’ve harvested a lot of game with this bullet, and honestly believe it’s the best all-around hunting bullet made. Josiah’s particular load shoots a 155-grain bullet with a G1 BC of .586 going 2,937 feet per second (fps). With a 200-yard zero his bullet will drop 124 inches at 800 yards (just under 15 minutes of angle), while retaining 2,057 fps of velocity and 1,456 ft-lbs. of energy. These calculations are made at 9000 feet elevation and 40-degrees Fahrenheit.
WOULD YOU TAKE THE SHOT?
Place yourself in Josiah’s shoes; you’ve traveled across three states buying gold-bullion-priced diesel and pulling a big trailer full of horses. You’ve packed many miles into the wilderness and worked hard to be ready for this moment. A beautiful 6X6 bull waits on the far side of the canyon, but other hunters may kill him at any moment. You prefer to stalk close and take your shots at close range, but you’ve worked hard to prepare for just such an encounter, where circumstances will not allow you to close the distance. Still, this is farther than you’ve ever shot at an animal.
Your position is excellent; a Spartan Precision bipod supports your rifle up front and a lightweight shooting bag in the rear. You lie on granite rock – as immovable as the mountain itself. Your hunting buddy has eyes on the bull through a quality spotting scope, and there is no discernable wind. Your bullet has plenty of retained velocity and energy to do its job at this range. Your turret is dialed and your crosshairs are steady on the bull’s vitals. Will you take the shot?
HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED: TRUE STORY
The bull stood perfectly broadside at 801 yards. Josiah pressed the trigger and his bullet impacted about 18 inches over the bull’s back. The windage was perfect. I called the impact and Josiah shot again, this time hitting so close over the bull’s back that the bullet must have cut hair. Once more I called the impact and the third bullet took the bull perfectly through the heart and lungs. He lurched toward the timber and Josiah missed a moving shot (he should have waited), but then the bull stopped and he hit him again, just lower than the first hit. The bull collapsed, cleanly killed at a very long range.
Josiah wore a huge smile as we took photos and processed the beautiful six-point bull, taken on a quintessential, traditional elk hunt deep in some of the most beautiful country on earth. He didn’t grow up back in the day when fixed scopes and iron sights were the norm, when 400 yards was a really, really long shot. It seemed natural to him to place accurate bullets at extreme range because he’s been ringing steel at those ranges since he was a little tyke. But to me, harvesting that bull at over 800 yards felt like a very real feat. My feelings were mixed; we’d had to push the envelope but we came away with a superb bull, a clean kill, and memories that will last a long, long time.
CONCLUSION
It bothered me that Josiah’s shots had impacted high, until I realized that all of his practicing had been done with his Spartan bipod resting either on the firm cushion of my shooting mat or on actual dirt, also a firm cushion. I believe – though I haven’t verified this yet – that resting his bipod atop solid rock threw his shots slightly high.
Would I take those shots again? Yes, I would. However, a shooter must work hard to become capable of ethically taking that kind of shot at a living animal. Most shooters with desire, discipline, and hard work ethic can become capable of shooting long, but there are other factors; wind, reading animal behavior, and so on that must be mastered. And that kind of shot should never, ever be taken without a competent spotter behind good glass who can call impacts and read the situation.
Whether shooting long at game is right and ethical (and healthy for the long-term future of hunting and game populations) is a subject for another time. But in this case, I’m grateful for elk meat in the freezer and a smile on my boy’s face. He worked hard for that elk, and those memories will last long into the future. Someday I’ll be too old to climb those mountains, and I’ll sit in my rocker on the porch and remember the sound of a bull bugling on a crisp Montana morning, that 801-yard shot, and the smile on my boy’s face.