The trek towards archery began when our friend and guide, Joe Buckley, told us that we had this “sniping” business down pretty well (after taking 2 bulls at 500 yards), and we needed to get into archery! Up close and personal! 15 yards, where they can blow snot all over you!

Sounded great! Unfortunately, this was in the fall of 2000, and Colorado Trophies didn’t have a archery slot available until 2002. We booked that hunt!

However, we went on a Spring Bear hunt out of Kalispel, Montana with Mike and Ron Robinson, of ThunderBow Outfitters. After a delightful and very successful Bear hunt, they told us of a Private Land Archery Elk hunt, in New Mexico, available for fall, 2001. We had had such a great time with these folks on the bear hunt, we booked the archery hunt right then and there.

We purchased our new Matthew’s SQ-2’s, and had the guys at Nix Guns and Archery
equip us and get us pointed in the right direction. We practiced all summer on our 3-D target, affectionately named “Mr. Buck”.

The first inkling of a problem came up 1 week before departure date. Mike called and told us that neither he nor Ron would be in the camp…BUT, he had a guy named Tom Harris that would take “good care of us”. He also said he was finally sending the private land permits to us, so we could purchase our licenses. He had to get them to us; we had to fill them out; send them to Santa Fe, then get them back to us, BEFORE we left! Thank goodness for Federal Express!

Let me warn you now! The rest of this story could easily be titled “The Hunt From Hell”. Not recommended for the easily offended!

We got the permits, and mailed the license applications to New Mexico Game and Fish. I had already spoken with them by telephone. They would be on the lookout for my package. They promised to process the application quickly, then get it back to FedEx in our pre-addressed package. They did exactly as they said they would..and put it back in the FedEx system early in the morning…….of September 11, 2001.

Just a few hours later, the complete air traffic control system shut down because of the vicious attack on our country. Our permits were already in FedEx’s hands, and we did not receive them until September 15, which was our first day to hunt!

Once the licenses were in our hands, we headed for Mora County, New Mexico. We arrived at the camp to find the “camp house” to be an old mobile home, being held together only by the termites holding hands. Fortunately, we brought our own quarters – our Sundowner horse trailer with living quarters. We met the substitute camp boss, Tom Harris. He would guide us the next morning, but we would have a different guide for the rest of the week. Looking across the road, about 600 yards from camp, there was an oats field. There were elk out in the field grazing, including a nice 6 x 6 bull. We were anxious to have ol’ Mr. Bull come running right by us at close range! Archery hunting would be fun!

That first morning, we had not been walking from the camp more than 25 minutes. Tom stopped and bugled. We immediately had an answer. We heard a bull bugle back not more than 200 yards away. We had been walking up a fence line, and we had a small grove of thick aspen to our right, where the bugle had come from. Janice and I setup about 15 yards from each other, straining to see movement in the aspen and looking for a shooting lane of some kind. Tom, to our surprise, set up right between us, rather than dropping back to call the bull by us. He bugled again….and instantly we got the reply, even closer than before…We could now hear his hooves against rocks as he made his way towards the challenging call, still no visual. To my amazement, Tom blurts out “Here he comes!” Unfortunately, since Tom forgot to whisper, he might as well of said “There he went”.

Now, Mike had paid Tom for the previous 2 weeks, to scout the ranch, and find the elk.
It should not have taken him long, as the ranch was only 500 acres! However, after the first morning, Tom told us “it was nice to get out of the house and see the ranch!”. This man had taken his employer’s money, and had done nothing but sit on his behind watching television!

We started back towards the camp, with Tom leading, followed by Janice, then myself. We were weaving our way through another Aspen grove (because Tom didn’t know where any trails were!), when Janice stopped cold in her tracks, 1 foot still off the ground! I also froze and scanned the area for whatever it was that caused her to freeze. There! Not 35 yards from us was a young spike bull, bedded down and not even knowing we were there. Finally, Tom stopped and looked back. He saw us frozen, and instead of freezing himself, decided to make his way back to Janice to see what she was looking at. Of course, the bedded bull heard, then saw this activity, and decided very quickly to make his bed elsewhere! I have decided at this point that Tom is not much of a guide, nor a hunter!

That was the last hunting we did with Tom, but unfortunately not our last dealings with him.

That evening, Janice and I sat on opposite sides of the oat field. I was in a ground stand and Janice was in a tree stand. We both heard elk activity, but never had anything come into view.

After coming backing from the evening hunt, Janice and I met our new guide, Rick. Rick and his wife lived in another house on the property, to which we had plugged our trailer in for electricity. Rick was a great guy, and did his best to guide us for the week. However, he was not a professional guide, and had only agreed to the assignment after Tom couldn’t find anybody else! Tom’s other hunter also arrived that evening.

The following morning, we worked the entire ranch, but never saw a thing. Mid-morning, someone bailed the oats in the field across form the camp. Tom asked where we wanted to hunt that night. We decided that another trip to the oat field would be great. Tom, however, wanted us to leave it alone since it had just been bailed that day, and we had hunted it the previous night. Rick, Janice and I went out, saw nothing, but did get to hear a horrific noise that we decided must have been a mating ritual between 2 mountain lions!

When we got back to camp, we learned Tom’s other hunter had been placed in the oat field where we were not allowed to hunt. When he got down from his tree stand, he found himself face to face with a 6x6 bull. He did not have an opportunity to draw and shoot. Now, remember, we were not allowed to hunt in this field after we hunted there the first night, and this is the ONLY place elk have been seen!

Again, the following morning, we did not see a thing. That evening, Tom’s hunter was again allowed to go back to the oat field, we were not. He saw the 6x6 bull at 30 yards, but could not believe he was that close, so he didn’t shoot. We again saw nothing.

The fourth and final morning, we saw nothing. I asked where everyone was hunting that afternoon. Tom’s hunter was going back to the oat field, Janice and I could go wherever we wanted. I asked why the other hunter was able to go back to the oat field when we were not. I was told since he had seen the bull there, it was his field, until he didn’t want to hunt it anymore. I then pointed out that we had never “given up the field” after the first night. In fact, we had been told to let it rest…even though Tom went ahead and put his hunter on it that second night. I pointed out that we never “gave up the field”. Geez, this is childish! This oat field is several acres, we are hunting archery with a maximum range of 50 yards, and there are at least 5 stands set up around the perimeter of the field. I asked to speak with Tom in private. He declined. I then announced that Janice and I were hunting the oat field that evening, and that if Tom’s hunter wanted to hunt there also, he was welcome. The conversation between Tom and myself got quite heated. I had finally had enough of his verbage and left to go hunting.

Of course, we saw nothing. Janice and I decided we had wasted enough time and effort with this hunt, and decided to not even spend the night. We tipped our guide, Rick, the cook, and the cook’s helper. We packed the trailer and took off for Raton. Unfortunately, this was still not the last we would hear from this idiot of a camp boss, Tom Harris.

Just before Christmas, we received a envelope with a seal from the Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation. Inside was a Christmas-looking card from a Quail Unlimited collection. Inside was a hand-written note from Mr. Harris, which was just unbelievably rude, crude and childish. After faxing the note to Mike Robinson, the outfitter himself, I got a half-hearted apology from Tom Harris. This man is a very poor ambassador for hunting or even being a human being!

Needless to say, we were very glad to get away from Mora County and Tom Harris, and won’t be hunting with this outfitter again!