By Aidan Balignasay

Not every hunt ends with a kill – that’s why it’s called ‘hunting’. To be honest, that doesn’t happen to BookYourHunt.com clients very often, but it does happen sometimes. The hunts offered on our online marketplace are with some of the best guides, and offer some of the highest success rates on this planet. But we only offer fair chase hunts, which is another way of saying there’s a chance of not getting a trophy. It’s not a tragedy; what every true hunter understands, but few antis can grasp is: you don’t have to kill to have a good time hunting. And here, to prove this point, is the story of an elk hunt in Alberta that Aidan Balignasay found and booked on BookYourHunt.com, told in his own words.

The bull was somewhere above us, hidden in the brush. He stayed above us on the ridge, and kept bugling. I can’t adequately describe the sound of a mature bull elk that close. It echoed through the drainage and seemed to come from every direction at once. It was one of the loudest vocalizations I’ve ever heard an animal make. We could hear him moving in the brush but never got a clear view. Eventually he realized something wasn’t right. He let out two sharp barks, followed by one final long bugle, and disappeared over the ridge.

I never fired a shot. And somehow, that moment became one of the greatest hunting experiences of my life.

Hunting Was Never About Filling a Tag

People often assume hunters are only happy when they come home with an animal. I understand why they think that. But if harvesting an animal is the only feeling of accomplishment you get from hunting, I think your priorities are in the wrong place. For me, hunting has always been about the chase. It’s about working hard to get close to an animal, seeing places most people will never venture into, and sharing experiences with other hunters. 

After my Alberta hunt, I was more physically exhausted than I’d ever been in my life. At the same time, my mind felt completely clear. I had spent seven days pursuing one of North America’s most elusive animals in the toughest terrain I had ever hunted. I had pushed myself physically, learned new things, and experienced encounters I’d never forget. Had I been focused only on killing an elk, I would have missed most of what made the trip special.

From Nova Scotia Whitetails to the Alberta Foothills

This was my first guided hunt, but hunting has been part of my life for as long as I can remember.

I’m from Nova Scotia, and my grandfather spent a lifetime hunting whitetails. He passed that passion on to me. I started accompanying him when I was twelve and harvested my first whitetail buck at sixteen. I remember that moment as clearly as if it happened yesterday. My grandfather was beside me, and it’s still one of my favorite memories. 

Since then I’ve hunted whitetails every year. I’ve taken some mature bucks over the years, but nowadays filling a tag isn’t really what motivates me. I enjoy chasing mature deer, watching their behavior, and simply spending time outdoors. In fact, I pass many deer every season because extending the hunt often matters more to me than ending it. Someday I hope to pass that same passion on to someone else.

Weather, Wind, and 87.9 Kilometers on Foot

My hunt with Alberta Wild Outfitting began under difficult conditions. Strong winds dominated most of the week, making it extremely difficult for guides to call bulls effectively. Nobody can control the weather, and the guides continued working incredibly hard despite the conditions.

This is not an easy hunt. Over seven days I covered 87.9 kilometers on foot through steep drainages, ridges, benches, and rugged foothill country. Anyone considering this hunt should prepare physically beforehand. I spent months training with a weighted pack before the trip, and I’m glad I did.

The guides paid close attention to their hunters’ capabilities and never put anyone into situations they couldn’t safely handle. At the same time, if you’re physically able, they’ll take you into some very rough country where elk like to hide. The reward is getting into places most people never see.

“We’re on a Bull, Buddy!”

The first few days were quiet. We hiked hard and covered a tremendous amount of country, but I neither saw nor heard an elk. One of the other hunters had a close encounter with a large bull, which only made me more anxious to have my own.

By day four I was beginning to get discouraged. Rick and I had climbed a large ridge and were working along a bench when an elk suddenly answered one of his bugles. Rick turned around, gave me a fist bump, and said: “We’re on a bull, buddy!” Instantly all the fatigue and negative thoughts disappeared. 

The bull approached quickly through thick brush. Rick asked if I had a round chambered. I confidently answered that I did. Then I realized I absolutely did not. While trying to quietly chamber a round, I made far more noise than I intended. Rick spun around and gave me a look that could kill. The bull heard us and vanished. 

Fortunately, that elk wasn’t legal anyway, as he was a spike horn (legal size is six points on one antler in this zone). Later that evening we laughed about what became known around camp as my “practice run.”

Camp Life and New Friends

The hunt itself was unforgettable, but camp life played a big role too. The accommodations were excellent. We slept in a large canvas wall tent with a wood stove and comfortable cots. The food was outstanding. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks, drinks. Nobody was going hungry. 

I shared the tent with my uncle Tim and another hunter named Marco, and we quickly became friends. My uncle has a special talent for teasing people, and Marco became his favorite target. One evening Tim loaded our tent stove so aggressively that it felt like the inside temperature reached 40°C. Marco eventually had to escape outside for fresh air. In the process he managed to burn his bald head on the hot metal zipper. Tim and I laughed for ten straight minutes.

Marco seemed to have some bad luck and did not have many elk encounters during his hunt. To keep him motivated, Tim decided the best course of action was to take pictures of all the animal droppings he found while hiking and send them to Marco. Marco probably got 50 pictures worth of feces sent to his phone! 

Fortunately, Marco was a good sport and took it all in stride. I don’t think I’ve laughed so hard in my life then I did during that week I spent in camp with those two. The camaraderie was every bit as memorable as the hunting.

“Yeah, They All Look Big”

The next morning delivered the encounter I had dreamed about. The wind was still blowing, but the rain had finally eased. Late in the morning Rick decided to try one more bench before we headed back to camp. That decision changed everything.

Rick let out a bugle, and suddenly we had a bugle in response. This bugle did not sound like the little bull from the previous day. It sounded loud, deep, and mean. Rick looked at me and said “He’s *** pissed” and tore off down the ridge at what felt like a sprint. I did my best to keep up!

We got to the edge of a small drainage, and could see a cow elk in the middle of it. The bull was still bugling, and sounded close, but we could not see him. I can’t do justice with my words to describe the sound of a bugling elk that is close to you. It is a sound that is incredibly loud, and sounds almost prehistoric. 

After a few more bugles back and forth between Rick and the bull, suddenly he appeared through the brush, about 120 yards away. I could see his head and his front shoulder through the brush. All we had to do now was confirm he was of legal size. The problem was that the bull wouldn’t stop tearing apart the tree long enough for us to count his points. 

Rick asked if I could count the points.

“No,” I whispered. “But he looks big.”

“Yeah,” Rick replied, “they all look *** big.”

This went one for less then 30 seconds. I had my rifle up, and my crosshairs held on the bull’s shoulder. My safety was off, and my finger was covering the trigger. All that was left in the equation was 2 lbs of pressure. Once the bull stopped raking the tree, Rick confirmed he was legal but I had lost my shot opportunity, as the bull had sidestepped, and continued into the drainage, attempting to get down wind of us. 

We saw one brief glimpse of him, before he turned and disappeared like a ghost.  For an animal weighing well over 800 pounds, his ability to move silently through thick cover was astonishing.

Rick was devastated. I wasn’t. I was simply grateful to have experienced a mature bull elk that close.

Gear That Survived the Test

This hunt was an excellent gear test. I relied primarily on KUIU clothing with a layered system for changing temperatures. My most valuable pieces of equipment were my KUIU Chugach rain jacket and rain pants. The first several days were wet, and that gear kept me comfortable throughout. My KUIU Venture Divide 3000 pack carried everything I needed while remaining comfortable over long distances.

For optics I used Leupold BX-2 Alpine HD binoculars and a Leupold Marksman 1000 rangefinder. Both performed flawlessly. 

The biggest lesson concerns boots. Mine were Under Armour Expanse Reapers, and I spent months breaking them in before the hunt. Almost 88 kilometres later, I still had no complaints. If there’s one item you shouldn’t gamble on for a mountain-style hunt, it’s footwear.

As for my rifle, I carried a Fierce Carbon Rogue chambered in 7mm PRC with a Vortex Viper HD scope. I’ve had this rifle for a few years, and have become quite fond of carbon fiber barrels and stocks. Lightweight yet accurate, it has been my go-to ever since. The rifle was more than capable of the task. The limiting factor was the person behind it.

Day Seven 

The day before, I was glassing a river valley. The air was so clean that I could make out objects on a large sandbar in the river some 7000 yards from us. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, but Rick confirmed that it was a large herd of elk, likely a bull with a harem of cows. We had a plan for the next day, day seven, the last hunting day of my trip. If we were going to harvest an elk, it had to be it.

We started early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. The weather was perfect. At the top of the ridge we had set our sights on the previous night, Rick let out a bugle, and we had an immediate response. We were on our bull. 

Forty minutes of hiking later we got another response from the bull, but it was clear that he was moving his cows away from us, not willing to deal with what he thought was another bull challenging his supremacy. We would hear a bugle from the elk in response to us, we’d move fast a few hundred yards, get set up, and then have to keep moving. This game of cat and mouse went on for two hours.  

Finally, the bull must have thought, as he couldn’t shake the pursuer off, it was time for a showdown. I was working off adrenaline at this point and was getting winded. We were maybe 10 feet from the top of an exceptionally steep drainage, when suddenly the bull bugled at us, and he was extremely close. We could hear him moving through the brush near us.

The bull kept going back and forth on the top of the ridge. He was within 50 yards of us, but we had no line of sight. The bull kept bugling above us. This sound was incredibly loud, and echoed around me in the drainage. Eventually the bull figured out that something wasn’t quite right. He let out two large barks, followed by another loud and long bugle, and then disappeared. 

Rick is a very passionate elk hunter, and desperately wants his clients to succeed. To say he was devastated  by the outcome is an understatement. I told him that it was okay and that it was a very cool encounter for me. He responded with “I don’t like cool, I like *** dead!”. I must say, I laughed very hard at his response. We hiked another four hours trying to get back on a bull, but never did.

What I Learned About Guided Hunts

Before this trip I wasn’t sure exactly what to expect from a guided hunt. Now I see guided hunting differently.

A guided hunt allows you to experience animals, places, and hunting styles that would otherwise be inaccessible. In much of Canada, I could never have hunted elk like this on my own. More importantly, I got to learn from hunters who spend their lives chasing elk. 

Rick and Derek taught me an incredible amount about elk behavior in a very short time. Whether I’ll ever apply all that knowledge again is hard to say, but I’m grateful to have learned it. Their passion was obvious. The weather was difficult and the elk were challenging, but those guys wanted us to succeed, probably more than we did.

Do Your Dream Hunt

On the final evening Rick and I sat overlooking the foothills in complete calm. The wind was gone. The rain had stopped. We talked about hunting, elk, life, the future, and where we’d both been. 

As darkness settled in, I realized the hunt was almost over. During the drive back to camp, I quietly shed a few tears. Not because I hadn’t killed an elk. Because my time in that beautiful place was ending. I never imagined that a kid from Nova Scotia would one day find himself deep in Alberta’s foothills, trading bugles with mature bull elk.

My advice to anyone considering a hunt like this is simple: make a plan and do it.

I’m not a wealthy man, but at the age of 29 I decided that I wanted to go on the big game hunts that I dreamed of as a teenager. I worked many 70-hour weeks to save the money for this trip and the gear that went with it. It wasn’t easy. But life is short, and tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. One day you’ll either have the memories, or you’ll have the regrets. I’d rather have the memories.

I’ve already booked hunting trips to South Africa and New Zealand through BookYourHunt.com. I’m really satisfied with my experience on this online marketplace. It made finding a hunt that both fits what I am looking for and also is within my price range much easier than scouring all over the internet. There will probably be more overtime in my future to pay for these hunts, but that’s fine by me. The adventures are worth it.

Next in ‘Hunting Stories’

“Two Bears Down and a Great Adventure”: A Spring Bear Hunt in Alaska

By Eric “Mo” Morris

This is a story of a spring bear hunt in Alaska that Eric “Mo” Morris found and booked on BookYourHunt.com, told in his own words.

“In Alaska, the weather calls the shots”

Disappointment hit early on my first day in Yakutat. We were supposed to head out to camp, but the weather had other plans. Winds were too strong, and the boats couldn’t safely make the trip. It was a letdown—we were all ready to get out into the field. But in Alaska, the weather calls the shots, and today it said: “Stay put!” CONTINUE READING