Kelly Dryer

Two Years in a Row... With a Bow

Kelly Dryer did it again for the 1996 archery elk hunting season, taking another bull elk with his bow. Most people might think Kelly was some kind of gluten, but you would have to know Kelly and the whole story before passing such judgment. Kelly has made the sacrifices necessary and now can be called an accomplished elk hunter with his bow!

Before connecting with his 1995 bull, Kelly had started hunting with us in 1992. (Kelly had been on four previous hunts in the West, after the elusive Wapiti), this was not to be his year. Kelly missed the 1993 season with us, but was back with bow in hand for the early September season of 1994. He had several shots, but things were not to be for this season. Then the 1995 season came, Kelly had booked the last couple of days of September and would remain for the rifle opener if he didn't fill his tag. But I distinctly remember him telling me "All I really want is to take one with the bow, it just wouldn't be the same with a rifle." That's all he had to say because Kelly took the fine bull pictured above on the last day of the bow season. Both of us were elated to say the least.

The 1996 season brought some complications to Kelly's hunt. First he was stricken with a mild stroke in July. We stayed in touch during this time and there was always a determined voice on the other end saying, "don't worry because I'm coming out anyway." Kelly followed the instructions from his doctor and made the thirty hour drive out from his home state of Michigan. The instructions per his doctor were, "no walks over a quarter mile, and nothing physically exerting."

The guy who showed up at 6:00 a.m. on the morning of the 20th of September was not what you would expect from one who had been recovering from a stroke. I knew better, Kelly was ready to hunt. Kelly was a few days early for his hunt so we took it easy for a day, as I was just getting back from my own hunt.

The next day we still did not get an early start, in fact I was taking some supplies up to camp and I told Kelly to come along, and that he had better bring his bow. On the way up the mountain we encountered one small group of elk and couldn't get in close, so we backed off and continued up toward camp. Low and behold but not ten minutes later Kelly and I spotted a very large bunch of elk. By our quick count there were at least one-hundred head, and quite a few bulls.

They were about a half a mile away, and we both knew that we had to heed the orders from Kelly's doctor (no more than a quarter mile walk, absolutely nothing physically exerting). The elk weren't going anywhere, so we took our time deciding what to do. While we were deciding upon strategy, several of the big herd bulls were making quite a racket, and several satellite bulls sparred.

We decided that we should go back into the juniper trees and keep several hills between us and the elk. This also kept the wind in our favor. So we took off, just easing along, keeping good cover and checking the wind constantly. When we had cut the distance roughly in half, we decided to set up and start calling. Kelly was on the ground some twenty yards in front of me when I started to whine on my cow call. The elk reacted almost instantaneously, the big herd bull tried to bunch his cows up and move them toward the sounds I was making. Try as he might the cows would not move and he was not going to leave them for one lonely cow, which I was imitating.

This went on for quite sometime, then I glanced in Kelly's direction. He showed, through sign language, that there was an elk approaching, and that he was a bull. He was down over the hill, out of my sight, but not Kelly's. I picked up the tempo of my calling after Kelly signaled me to do so. After what seemed like several agonizing hours, but was in fact just minutes, the bull came into view and was heading toward Kelly. I slowed my calling, only giving a short mews when the bull stopped. When the bull was approximately fifty yards out, Kelly gave me the signal that he was too small. The bull continued his advance and stopped broadside to Kelly at thirty yards. At which time Kelly very deliberately drew his bow back and let an arrow sail. I thought he was just going to practice the draw on him, but the arrow hit true. Right behind the shoulder, a perfect shot!

The bull wheeled and went down the hill about fifty yards, where in less than a minute he started wobbling and soon toppled over. Kelly and I held tight to our positions, straining from the excitement but not wanting to push the bull. We were to find out after field dressing the bull that Kelly had made a perfect double lung shot. This is how it came to be, after spending seven unsuccessful attempts for elk with a bow, Kelly Dryer had just dropped his second in as many seasons.

Todd Jones