I bought an ATV a while back, which surprised some people; especially those who have heard me threaten to shoot out the tires of the next one that roared past me. I rationalized the purchase by telling people that anyone who frequently hunts elk solo needs all the help he can get, but the truth is I have reached the conclusion that the machines themselves are not inherently evil. Like any other machine, they are as good or bad as the person running them. Plus I got tired of fixing my jeep every time I tore the bottom out of it.
I felt pretty conspicuous the first time I unloaded the ATV in the quiet dark of a frosty fall morning. I looked around to see if others were annoyed at the noise I was making as I started the machine up and backed it down off the pick-up bed. No one was annoyed because the others were busy unloading their own ATV’s.
The area I was hunting is a popular spot for elk on the National Forest. One of the reasons it’s popular is because a lot of it is accessible to ATV’s. It’s also a place where I have cussed four-wheelers a lot. Most loudly I cussed a hunter who told me how he spotted an elk while cruising the roads on his four-wheeler. He shut down the machine, grabbing his rifle as he stepped off, and shot a spike.
I don’t know why God lets things like this happen. In a just universe, people who hump the boonies day after day, slogging through swamps and blow-downs, would get the elk. Hunters who cruise the roads would always get skunked.
I loaded my gear on to the four-wheeler and headed down the road. My headlights showed a swampy area ahead. I switched to four wheel drive and eased into the standing water. I was gratified to find that the four-wheeler putted on through without spinning its wheels like my jeep would have. When driven gently, ATV’s often tear up the trail less than conventional four wheel rigs, because they are superior four wheel drive vehicles.
It was getting light in the east as I followed the two-track around the edge of the huge meadow that marks the beginning of the area I wanted to hunt. I was trying to stay on the approved four wheel drive road, but it was getting hard to figure out what was approved road and what were illegal tracks. The Forest Service restricts motor vehicle use in the National Forest to designated roads, a restriction I support. But in other areas the forest Service does a better job of marking the approved roads. Should I have followed the newer looking tracks across the meadow? Or is that an unauthorized route? It’s frustrating when you’re trying to do the right and legal thing, but you can’t discern what it is.
Finding the road also gets difficult as new tracks form to avoid washed out areas, and the road gets wider and wider. ATV riders contribute to this problem by going around perceived obstacles. This creates more ruts, unnecessary ruts in my view. I can’t understand why people who buy a machine that will crawl over big rocks feel compelled to go around insignificant bumps in the road. When I am driving any kind of four wheel rig, pick-up, jeep, or ATV, I feel I have an obligation to avoid making new ruts.
I drove on through the meadow, trying to stay on legal roads as best I could, and then followed a clearly marked trail into the timber. It was almost light enough to shoot now, and I was starting to think that I should get off the machine and walk. I was heading for a particular spot, the head of a draw where I had jumped a cow the previous year. I wanted to get there quickly, but elk could be anywhere in this area. Besides, I didn’t one to be one of those road-hunters who just cruise around on the four-wheeler all day.
I parked in the trees and started down the road on foot. I stopped for a moment to glass an opening, and that’s when I heard them; two ATV’s coming up from behind me. I waited a moment as the sound of the engines got closer and then they appeared. They nodded and waved as they went by me, and disappeared across the opening.
I had a sinking feeling I knew where they were going. I walked half a mile further down the road and discovered I was right. I found their ATV’s parked at the head of the draw I wanted to hunt.
At the time I was mad at myself for getting off the machine too early. I could have beaten them to that draw. But now that I look back on it, I am glad that I am the kind of guy who parks the vehicle sooner rather than later. When I was a kid, hunting with my dad, he always avoided getting into any situations where he was competing with other hunters, and I like that philosophy. Trying to beat the other guy to the “good spot” makes hunting into work, and makes killing an elk into scoring points. That’s not the way I want to hunt.
ATV’s have given ordinary guys like me, who want find the elk on their own rather than hiring a guide, and who don’t have room for a string of ponies, some enhanced opportunities for reaching the elk. With those opportunities comes the responsibility of using the tool without harming the experience. We all want to reach the elk. But when trails become highways, and we can’t hear the elk bugle over the sound of the engines, we’ve lost what we came to the woods to find. We all need to make the choice to stop the machine sooner rather than later. I found another draw that day, a good one, better than the one I was planning on hunting. I wouldn’t have found it if I had been focused on racing the other guy to the finish line.
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