When Ken Mountain of St. Marys put in for a Pennsylvania elk tag
he really didn’t think he stood much of a chance since 44,680 other
hunters had entered.
Only 10 bull tags were being selected and much to Mountain’s
surprise he was the second person drawn!
Mark Hneth, a local elk guide, called Mountain after the drawing
and offered his services. Mountain told him immediately he was
hired and that “The Hunt” was starting from that very day.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and Mountain had a
goal – to shoot the biggest elk in the state and bring the world
record back to Pennsylvania. Mountain believed the biggest racked
elk in the United States didn’t live out west. He thought that
giant elk lived right here in his home state.
The very next day the two men got up at 5 a.m. and began
scouting. Elk are nocturnal feeders and by 9 a.m. lay down, not
stirring again until around 3 p.m. So, Hneth and Mountain were in
the woods at daylight, scouted till 9 a.m., returned again at 3
p.m. and stayed till dark. Three times a week Mountain was at the
rifle range shooting. He practiced all positions and knew just
exactly where his gun shot at 100, 200, 300 and 400 yards. They
kept this grueling pace up for five weeks, from the day after he
was drawn to the first day of elk season.
Mountain knew he had to do his homework if he was going to be
successful. Giant elk are extremely shy and secretive.
Mountain also took the time to contact the landowners in the
areas he wished to scout and asked permission before going onto
their property. The landowners were appreciative of his courtesy
and several gave him some good information about the elk on their
land.
As the weeks passed Mountain and Hneth found five extremely
large bulls. One was in Stirling Run, another in Castle Garden, the
third in Dents Run, the fourth in Porcupine Hollow and the fifth at
Grey Hill.
The Stirling Run bull was absolutely huge and heavy racked. No
one they talked to had ever seen or even heard of the animal
before. This monster looked like he would score extremely high, an
easy contender for the world record, but unfortunately this animal
must have had ESP, for he simply vanished and was never seen
again.
With bull number one in hiding Mountain and Hneth determined the
bull on the Trout Run side of Porcupine Hollow was also a world
record candidate. His mass and tine length were exceptional, but
would he disappear also?
Mountain had thought finding the bull of a lifetime would be the
hardest part of his quest. He quickly discovered that finding the
bull was difficult, but keeping track of him afterward was almost
impossible! It was a tiring and frustrating labor, the bulls
appearing and disappearing with no predictable pattern. All they
could do was keep trying and keep their fingers crossed.
Finally, the first day of elk season arrived, the alarm went off
at 3 a.m. and Mountain, his wife Dawn, Hneth and John Azza hit the
woods. Azza would be videotaping the hunt. The anticipation was
terrific as they left their vehicle and carefully moved to a
calling position in the darkness.
Slowly the black night melted to grey, the hill tops cutting
knife edge silhouettes against the brightening sky; the deep
predawn silence suddenly broken by the happily singing birds. It
grew lighter still and you could see the tree tops now, but there
was not enough light yet for any colors to be seen.
Hneth raised his elk call and bugled, the shrill, bold challenge
slicing through the dawn with a razor-sharp electricity that raises
the hair on your neck, stops your breath, clenches your fists in
anticipation.
The bugle echoed through the darkness and was immediately
answered by several smaller bulls. Mountain and Hneth looked
nervously at each other. Was the big guy still here?
Again they called, and then called again. Suddenly a deeper
voice roared a defiant answer, the sound washing over them with a
thrill matched only by the relief they felt that the bull was still
in the valley!
Knowing he was there and finding him were two different things.
All day long they carefully moved around the big bulls haunts. They
kept an eye on the wind, kept as silent as possible, hiked,
glassed, guessed and hoped, but the bull kept quiet and out of
sight. The day soon passed and as evening approached the hunters
found themselves back where they had began the day.
Then they smelled him!
With the rut in full swing a bull elk exerts a strong, manly,
musty aroma. The cows he was with also add their fine perfume to
the air and our hunters knew that somewhere directly upwind of them
a herd of elk was bedded down.
Hneth carefully snuck forward and saw the big bull bedded with
10 to 12 cows in a grove of pine trees. When they attempted to
stalk closer the herd spooked and ran out into an opening bordering
the pines they had bedded in.
Suddenly, an unexpected rifle shot cracked out. An unknown
hunter with a cow license shot and had filled his tag! The rest of
the elk, big bull included, turned and ran up a trail leading to a
Pennsylvania Game Commission game field. Mountain took off after
them, running as hard and as fast as he could to the edge of the
field. The elk were still running directly away at about 200 yards.
Mountain flopped down in the prone position, sucked in as much air
as he could, ignored his thudding heart and got the cross hairs on
the bull.
Luckily, the bull turned slightly to his left, giving Mountain
the opportunity to angle his bullet past the front of the hip, up
into the chest cavity. The 338 Winchester Magnum bellowed and
Mountain heard the 240 grain bullet hit. The bull turned sharply to
his right at the shot and Mountain led him, firing again. This
bullet smacked the huge animal through the ribs also, but didn’t
stop him.
Mountain leaped to his feet and sprinted to the edge of the
woods, there just 60 yards away stood the bull. He fired the third
time and the bull had just enough gas left to make it to a steep
ravine and tumble down it, dead.
Mountain ran up to his trophy and stared at the huge antlers and
heavy 818-pound body of this magnificent animal. The elk had a 7×10
rack with four non-typical stickers, one of the tines measuring 13
inches in length. He was as big, even bigger than they had
thought!
He was so happy he could almost burst, his dream, his goal
accomplished, the thrill of his success almost overwhelming him.
Then he began to cry, tears of respect and admiration for the
wonderful animal he had been allowed to take, tears of a dream come
true, mixed with the effort, dedication and frustration of a
month’s toil.
Mountain, a former Westline resident, is now awaiting the Safari
Club Internationals Master Scorer to measure the rack and see if he
has shot the biggest elk ever. Different people have scored the
huge horns, measurements running anywhere from 409 to 424.
