“That bull elk is crazy,” my companion whispered. “What in the world is he doing?”
I watched, fascinated, as the animal rolled around and around in a mudhole, kicking mud and filthy brown water in all directions.
“I’m not sure,” I said, “but he seems to be enjoying it.”
Finally, the six-point bull climbed out and walked off, with a fresh coat of mud glistening on his hide.
That happened more than 20 years ago, when I was new to the West. I had been hunting blue grouse with a pal when the elk’s splashing had caught our attention. We had walked over quietly, not knowing what to expect, and had been amazed at the sight.
I hadn’t known it at the time, but the bull was behaving normally. As I’ve since learned, elk commonly wallow in mud during the late summer and early fall.
Biologists believe that elk use wallows for two reasons: to cool themselves, and to perform part of their breeding ritual.
Dr. Valerius Geist of the University of Calgary says that wallowing is done mainly by older bulls, but that wallows also attract yearlings. Geist, considered to be one of the world’s top elk authorities, believes that bulls tend to return to the same wallows each year.
Other wildlife experts support Geist’s contention that wallows are used primarily by mature bulls, and some scientists feel that the wallow is a mark of advertisement or a dominance display.
According to Geist, a bull will dig a wallow with his front feet, bugling and tearing at the ground with his antlers while digging. At the same time, the bull directs a spray of urine onto the underside of his neck and then rolls about in the wallow after it is dug, continuing to urinate in the wallow. As the bull rolls, he rubs his neck mane on the edge of the wallow and cakes his face, chest, belly, legs and sides with mud.
After wallowing, the bull often rubs his mud-caked neck on the trunk of a nearby tree. He may also thrash saplings and bushes with his antlers, stripping off bark and demolishing branches.
Although elk wallows have been noted by biologists for years, the ritual is not completely understood. Some scientists feel that a single bull will “own” a wallow, and if the bull is killed, another bull will take the wallow over.
According to another belief, the sudden absence of bulls at traditional wallows could indicate a serious reduction in the number of mature bulls in that particular area.
Most biologists believe that wallows are not essential for breeding rituals, pointing to elk areas where there are few, if any, wallows. Those areas, however, are often in lowlands or arid locations where dirt habitat conditions prevent elk from digging wallows.
After watching the bull cavort in the wallow that first time, I began to pay attention to every mudhole and dug-up spot in moist ground that I found. If I hadn’t observed the wallowing bull, I’d have continued to ignore those hotspots of elk activity, just as I’d ignored whitetail scrapes in Eastern woods those many years ago.
It’s interesting how quickly we’re learning about animal behavior. Whitetail scrapes, for example, weren’t understood until fairly recently. Early books—classics in their day—on whitetail deer never mentioned scrapes. Now, everyone who hunts whitetails has heard about scrapes, and hunters who correctly utilize scrapes score more consistently than those who don’t.
Modern wildlife scientists are unraveling amazing behavior patterns involving big-game species, and hunters are incorporating these discoveries into hunting strategies. Elk wallows are a good example.
It’s obvious that hunting near wallows can be an effective technique, but most elk hunters are unaware of the possibilities. During my big-game hunting lectures each year, I ask the audiences a series of questions to determine their level of elk knowledge. On the question of wallows, many people have no idea of their importance, although most report seeing wallows while hunting.
When I was learning about elk hunting many years ago, an old-timer taught me some valuable lessons. He killed an elk every year, and he took most of them by hunting wallows. Although it might not seem unusual for a skilled hunter to take an elk every year, my friend did it in a state that had a poor elk hunting success rate. A spike bull was cause for celebration in that part of the country, and it would earn admiring glances as it was shown off.
My friend used a simple technique to take his elk back then. He would merely wait for a bull to show up at a beaver pond that had some active wallows and fresh rubs adjacent to it. He told me that most elk appeared during the hottest part of the day—between 2 p.m. and 4 p.m.—and that an early snowstorm or cold front often resulted in little or no elk activity at the wallow.
Because wallowing usually occurs when temperatures are high, bowhunters who try for elk in the late summer can set up stands near active wallows. In states where bow seasons start in August and early September, hunting near wallows is often the only effective technique if bulls aren’t responding to calls.
I’ve observed elk using wallows as early as mid-August. Once, when I was fishing for brook trout in August along a remote creek, I came to a beaver dam and noted fresh elk tracks everywhere. I investigated further, and found a mudhole 25 yards uphill from the dam where a seep moistened the fertile soil. Elk tracks were distinctly imprinted in the bottom of the wallow.
Several hours later, I hiked back down and heard a large animal crash through the timber somewhere near the beaver pond. I didn’t see the animal, but the wallow was muddy and freshly disturbed. I’m convinced that I’d spooked a bull elk that had been frolicking in the wallow.
Another time, while bowhunting for deer in late August, I watched a spike bull elk in a wallow. When I spotted him, he was standing in the middle of the wallow and sniffing the edges of the mudhole. He then proceeded to roll in the mud before walking off into the forest.
The wallow was in a limited-entry hunting unit that required a hunter to obtain a tag in a lottery draw. When a friend of mine drew a tag, I took him to the wallow. He killed a fine six-point bull on opening day as the animal was walking down a trail toward the mudhole.
The following year, another pal drew a permit, and it was a repeat performance. He took a big five-point bull on the second day of the season as the bull jumped out of its bed 75 yards from the wallow. The bull’s flanks and mane were caked with mud.
Hunting wallows offers an obvious new dimension to elk hunting. The prime bugling period is generally from mid to late September. Bulls are often silent or only moderately vocal before the rut is in full swing, and they usually won’t answer a call at this time. This is when hunting wallows pays off.
Bow seasons are typically held during the rut in the Western states because hunters must get close to their quarry to score. Calling is almost mandatory for elk hunters, but early seasons that begin in August offer little opportunity to bugle in a bull. Most elk simply aren’t interested. Other than trying to sneak up on a bedded or moving elk, hunting next to a wallow is about the only strategy that will allow a close-in shot.
Stalking close to a herd of elk isn’t impossible. In fact, I’ve found it easier to sneak close to elk than to get near deer. I suspect the reason for this is that elk are noisy animals because of their large size, and they will tolerate natural noises, such as branches and twigs being broken, that are often made by stalking hunters. Metallic or obviously man-made noises, of course, won’t be tolerated. But even though a bowhunter might be able to stalk close, it’s another story to thread an arrow into a vital area of a bedded elk. Generally, an elk will be surrounded by brush or trees, and even if a clear shot is possible, the elk’s position while bedded often offers a very small target area. A hunter using a rifle would have a better chance of scoring, and he wouldn’t have to sneak so close.
Watching trails for elk is often an exercise in futility, unless you’ve found a well-used trail leading to the neck of an active wallow or a trail that’s consistently used by elk simply moving from one area to another. Finding one of the latter type of trail, however, is a big order because elk normally travel in small herds over a vast area. You’ll be looking for a group of animals in an enormous landscape, and most movement will be within an hour of sunrise and sundown. This doesn’t leave you much time to hunt the trails.
I know several bowhunters who hunt wallows exclusively in August and early September because of the poor odds of stalking bedded or moving elk. Many hunters don’t have the luxury of time, and they can’t spend days merely walking through a forested area. They concentrate their efforts in high-use areas that attract elk. Wallows fill the bill nicely.
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There’s another major reason to consider hunting wallows an important strategy: For numerous reasons—including general weather patterns, local storms and heavy hunting pressure—elk will sometimes refuse to bugle or respond to a call, even during the peak of the rut. Many skilled hunters and outfitters believe that today’s elk are bugling less than they used to. It’s felt that the enormous increase in elk calling by hunters is having an effect on elk behavior. Bulls are getting wise to elk calls, and they are refusing to answer.
No experts believe that elk have completely quit bugling because calling is an important aspect of the breeding ritual. Instead, most feel that calling is now most frequently done at night. I’ve camped in elk country many times in the past, sleeping in a small mountain tent literally amidst elk herds. Night bugling by elk is routine, but in the past few years I’ve heard much more nighttime vocalization than I had in the past. I believe that this can be attributed to the fact that the area I hunt is public land where elk calling by hunters has increased a great deal in recent years.
Extremely dry, hot weather often has a negative impact on bugling, too, and under these conditions elk tend to become silent, refusing to call or respond to calls. The 1987 season was a good example. Balmy fall days with temperatures in the 80s were common throughout the West, and elk activity seemed to come to a halt. Even in the best elk country, it was tough to hear an elk bugle during the peak of the rut.
What all of this means is that elk bugling can’t always be counted on. And when the bulls aren’t bugling, wallow hunting offers another ace in the hole when conventional methods won’t work.
The next logical question is, how does one find an elk wallow? Unfortunately, there isn’t any sure-fire way, but there are some general rules that have the best potential. Wet places are obvious spots. Creek bottoms, especially those dammed by beavers, often are good wallow locations. When you walk the bottoms, crisscross the drainage if you can and look for elk tracks. An active wallow will have plenty of tracks around it, and there may also be a well-used trail leading to it.
A freshly rubbed tree is a good clue to a wallow’s presence, too. Investigate the area around the tree closely, even if it means making an out-of-the-way crossing through a marsh or a brushy tangle.
Once when I was hiking along a steep mountain, I stopped in a small clearing and looked across the canyon. With my binoculars, I saw three saplings that had been recently demolished. The bark had been stripped away, leaving naked yellow wood that was easily seen. I guessed that an elk had thrashed the trees, and I hiked over to look. I had to make a difficult crossing through a thick spruce blowdown, and then had to wade the stream at the bottom to get to the rubbed trees.
The trip was worth it, though, as a fresh wallow was located just 10 yards from the trees, and the size of the elk tracks in the area convinced me that the wallow was worthy of special attention. Shooting light was almost over, so I headed for camp, intending to hunt the area in the morning.
As luck would have it, I intercepted a good bull about 500 yards from camp at sunrise the next morning. When I fired at the elk, my pal heard the shot and walked over to help me field-dress and skin the bull. My companion had just left camp and was headed in another direction. Like me, he had discovered an active wallow and had figured on hunting it that day.
When the skinning chore was over, I suggested that my pal hunt the wallow I’d located because it was much closer to camp than the one he’d found. I insisted on quartering the carcass myself because my partner would lose too much hunting time if he stayed to help. As it was, the dressing and skinning job had taken up plenty of time, and there was only a half-day left for him to hunt. He agreed and headed out for the closer wallow.
I had just finished hanging the last quarter when my pal showed up. He was wearing a big grin, and he told me about the six-point elk he’d shot. The animal had been just leaving the wallow with a fresh coat of mud on when my buddy had spotted him.
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Wallows are also common along mountainsides where underground springs and seeps emerge. You can spot these areas by noting the different forms of vegetation near the moist areas. Lush grasses and shrubs often grow in wet spots, and their foliage is distinctive compared with that of adjacent trees.
Although elk can come to a wallow at any time of day or night, I’ve found that the late afternoon seems to be a productive time. Most hunters experienced in wallow hunting agree. Bowhunters often either build a tree stand near a wallow or use a portable stand. Hunters using firearms normally find a vantage point within good shooting distance.
Some hunters—myself included—don’t have the patience to sit for very long around a wallow, and they prefer instead to still-hunt in the vicinity of a mudhole. Elk country is usually so big that it’s tough to cover it thoroughly. Knowing where wallows are helps pinpoint places being used by bulls. In one area I hunt, I know of four active wallow sites in a single drainage. I can visit the wallows in two hours’ time if I walk steadily, but I usually spend the entire day just wandering about in the woods and brush around each of them.
Elk hunting is tough, and it makes sense to use every strategy you can to turn the odds in your favor. Wallows are foremost in my bag of tricks. The concept works, and that’s good enough for me. Anything that puts me closer to a bull elk is worthy of my attention, and wallows do just that.
This story was originally published in the September 1988 issue of Outdoor Life.
Read the full article here
