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Mark Freeman Commentary Good timing helps land bull elk PROSPECT -- Carl King is a walking example of how slow and not-so-steady hunting can win the race for bull elk in the woods. The 62-year-old King, whose aching legs forced him to take an unplanned break during his traditional hunt course, spied and shot the first and only Roosevelt bull elk he saw during opening weekend of the West Cascades' general bull-elk season. "I was in the right place at the right time," King says. "It's my first elk, so it was all pretty exciting. He wasn't all that big, but he wasn't all that little." But as a 5-by-5 point bull, King's elk seems all that typical for this fall's season in eastern Jackson County. More hunters like King are finding younger, smaller bulls in the Rogue Unit woods during this week's general elk-hunting season, the likely outcome of changes in the age structures of local elk herds. The general season for rifle hunters began Saturday and winds up Friday night in the Cascades. After two years of relatively light bull harvest, and two good reproductive years for the herds' cows, the woods seem to sport more younger bulls this year than in previous years. That trend seems to hold true in the annual, unscientific census by state wildlife biologists. Several yearling bulls and a spate of branch-antlered bulls with antlers no more plentiful than 5-by-5 points dominated the bulls checked by Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife biologists in the Rogue Unit this weekend. "There seems to be a pretty good crop of young bulls this year," ODFW wildlife biologist Merv Wolfer says. The 5-point bulls here typically are 2 or 3 years old. The older and larger bulls, often prized by hunters for their 7-point or 8-point antlers, will typically be 4 years old or older. Yet bulls of all ages and sizes are getting the upper hand on hunters this year because of a dry, crackly forest that has made stalking the wily elk virtually impossible. Most successful hunters have mirrored the story of Preston Britton, who didn't actually find his elk in the woods. It found him. Another hunter on a ridge spooked an elk, which ran toward Britton, a 31-year-old Medford paramedic on his first elk hunt. "I thought it was (another hunter) crashing through the woods, but I realized it was coming way too fast to be human," Britton says. A bull then bounded out of the woods 40 yards away, and Britton fired. With 3 points on one antler side and two on another, it was the smallest of branch-antlered bulls. "It was the only elk we ever saw," Britton says. With 4,000 hunters like Britton stalking about 3,500 elk in the Rogue Unit, just finding one legal bull is so tough that only 7 percent of Rogue Unit hunters tied their tag on a bull's antlers each mid-October. For the past five years of "serious elk hunting," King has been one of the 93 percent of unsuccessful hunters. A Central Point appliance repairman, King admits he's not in the best of shape for the long hikes he and his son-in-law, Brent Bradshaw, use while hunting their own secret area of the Cascades. "I'm so old," he says, "my legs don't let me run out of breath." While hiking an old road turned trail about 8:45 a.m. on Opening Day, those legs seized up right on schedule. While hunched over trying to recirculate blood, King's eye caught movement in the brush 75 yards away. He crouched to peer through a hole in the forest, which revealed the grazing bull. King's legs ached as he lumbered toward the elk until its neck bristled from a shifting wind. Knowing he had only seconds before the elk would smell him, he peered through his scope at the elk and, finally, saw the animal's antlers. It was a bull, and it was to become King's first bull seconds later. "That was the only elk I saw, period," King says. "He's no big bull," he says, "but I'll take anything." (Staff writer Mark Freeman covers the outdoors for the Mail Tribune. Call him at 776-4470, or e-mail him at: [email protected] ) Outdoor Journal main page Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA