Nearly 40 years ago, I killed my first animal with a bow. Since then, I've been fortunate to take a number of species, including antelope, black bear, caribou, mule deer, mountain lion, and whitetail deer. Still, elk had eluded me, and I desperately wanted to kill an elk with my bow.

In nearly four decades, I'd hunted elk only one time, a do-it-yourself deal on which I spent most of my time looking for animals and avoiding other hunters on overcrowded public land. I saw few elk and didn't hear a single bugle or cow call in a week of hard hunting.

Even though I wanted to hunt elk again, conflicts always prevented it -- other hunts, work, family. So, at the young age of 60, I made a personal commitment to hunt elk again -- this time on private land with a reputable guide.

To get informed advice, I called my friend and Bowhunter Magazine founder M.R. James. One outfit M.R. highly recommended was Dennis and Michelle Schutz's Big Bones Unlimited out of Chromo, Colorado. M.R. said Dennis ran a topnotch operation and knew how to bowhunt elk. To seal my decision, I could buy an elk license over the counter for that area. After confirming dates with Dennis, I also signed up my good bowhunting buddies Mark Murman from Pennsylvania and John Fair from Ohio.

We pulled into the Big Bones camp early in the afternoon the day before our hunt. The place was postcard beautiful. My initial impression of Dennis, based on our phone conversations, was soon reinforced by his strong handshake and down-home hospitality.

After dinner that evening, everyone in camp stepped outside under star-filled skies and listened to elk bugles hailing from the surrounding moonlit mountains. Anticipation was high as we went to our bunks.

At dawn the next morning, Dennis and I heard a deep-throated bugle as we trekked up the mountain. As we continued our climb, the bull bugled again. Being cautious of the wind, we circled above the bugling elk.

Slowing to catch our breaths, we spotted elk moving through the timber. One appeared to be a good bull. We hurried farther up the mountain and set up on a small bench. I had a big Douglas fir at my back that would do well to break up my outline while Dennis knelt another 20 yards behind me next to a large stump. Immediately a bull responded to Dennis' cow mews, and then a bull appeared 75 yards out the ridge. Through binoculars I could see his antlers met the four point legal requirement, but he wasn't a shooter. I glanced back at Dennis and, as expected, he gave me the thumbs down sign. Smiling, I looked back and saw the bull closing the distance in search of the source of the lovesick cow calls. As the young 4x4 passed me at 12 yards, I could smell his musky odor.

Thinking a larger bull was nearby, Dennis repositioned and called again, and a few moments later I saw a mud-covered 6x6 moving quietly through the heavy timber. My rangefinder showed him to be right at 50 yards. I clipped my release on the string, hoping the big bull would come closer, but instead he turned broadside and raked a tree before cautiously stopping to stare in our direction. Then, even as Dennis continued calling, the bull moved off. We tried circling for another setup, but the shifting wind put an end to that plan.

Over the next few days we hunted hard, and although we worked elk daily, we couldn't close the deal. On the third afternoon we called an average 5x5 through a patch of aspen trees to within 40 yards, but the bull never presented a good shot. He eventually circled to get our wind, and that ended that.

Mark Murman was having better luck. He and his guide, Anthony Trujillo, had been into elk every day, and on the evening of the fourth day Mark made a great shot on a fine 5x5, and Mark's first-ever elk took a nosedive a short distance away. Tim Foster, a bowhunter from Connecticut, arrowed a good 5x5 bull as well.