After charging in so boldly when Wayne first started calling, the elk now suddenly seemed to be having second thoughts about picking a fight with the imaginary bull Carlton was creating with his calls. We probably should have gone to look for another elk right then. But we knew this bull was down there somewhere and decided to push onward to the bottom to see if we could crowd him and prod him into responding. Our efforts met only icy silence.
    "A young bull," Wayne said when it became apparent the elk had slipped furtively away, fearing this encroaching rival was too much to handle. "He probably doesn't even know why he's calling. He just hears other bulls doing it, so he copies them."
    And so we spent the next 45 minutes climbing back up out of the dark, snowy canyon. When we reached the summit, I suggested—just out of curiosity—that Wayne call again before we headed for another area. Sure enough, now that we were a safe distance away, out of his bailiwick, the chicken-hearted bull piped back loud and clear to Carlton 's bugle. We shook our heads in disgust and tromped back to the horses to search for a more cooperative quarry.
    Going after elk with a blackpowder rifle is one of the most intriguing hunts available in North America today. Finding and getting into close shooting range of the wary wapiti, and making a telling hit with one shot without the aid of a scope—often in rugged terrain and adverse weather—make muzzleloading for elk immensely challenging. But because of its difficulty, it's also extremely rewarding.
    Seven states ( Arizona, Colorado, Idaho, New Mexico, Oregon, Utah and Washington ) hold special muzzleloader elk seasons, but Colorado, with the nation's largest herd of elk and millions of acres of public land, offers some of the best hunting opportunities for those lucky enough to get drawn for a license. Under the current season framework, muzzleloaders get second crack at elk, with the 14-day season typically starting the second week in September (nearly three weeks after bow season opens, but before any rifle hunting takes place).
    Each year it's getting more difficult to obtain a muzzleloader elk license, since this sport is increasing in popularity. But fortunately, Colorado has a preference system, so the more times you apply, the more likely you are to get drawn. Chances of getting a license the first year you apply are slim. The second year, odds are quite good. If you aren't drawn then, it's virtually assured you'll get a blackpowder license on your third attempt.
    I applied for two years for a muzzleloader elk license and was drawn on my second attempt. Successful applicants aren't notified until a few weeks before the season opens, so plans for the hunt had to be firmed up quickly with Carlton. Though he hunts elk in numerous areas throughout the state, we ultimately decided on a spot far back in a wilderness area of the Gunnison National Forest. Joining us in camp to hunt deer and elk with his bow was Sports Afield Hunting and Fishing Editor Tony Atwill.
    Wayne met Tony and me at the Montrose airport, after we had flown down from Denver. From there we drove to our embarkation point, where we saddled the horses, loaded our gear and began the two-hour ride into camp. By the time we reached the canvas wall tent, it was nearly dark. We unloaded, ate a quick dinner and crawled into our sleeping bags, glad that the hunt was finally under way.
    Rain pelted the tent throughout the night, but the weather broke for a spell in the morning. Slipping outside in the first gray light of dawn, I looked up and was shocked to see a bull elk, not 400 yards above camp, easing across an opening into a stand of yellow aspens. Rushing back into the tent, I jabbered frantically, alerting Tony and Wayne about the elk.
    "Get your gun," was all Carlton said. Tony decided to hunt alone that day, so Wayne and I were soon easing into a nearby stand of spruce to try to head off the bull before it topped the ridge into the next valley. We climbed hard, then paused halfway up, where Wayne started to bugle. But apparently the elk had detected movement around camp, become suspicious and headed for more isolated country.