A brother’s calling finally brings a bull within range – and redemption
I’ve been elk hunting twice. Each had highs and lows – the first physical, the second emotional.
The first was a few years back. I bought an over-the-counter nonresident bull elk tag for Colorado’s second rifle season. I spent a week in the San Juan Mountains south of Telluride, hiking up and down, calling and glassing, in spite of the fact that every trailhead had multiple trucks and trailers. Hunters were everywhere.
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