A cold bitter sting was in the air, the environment we had been searching for any sign elk had completely changed. The tables were turned in our favor, guesswork had turned to clear cut tracking.
In the midst of running a herd of elk across a deep ravine, I crossed a beautiful six point shed antler. It would take me almost two hours to circle back around to the elevation where I had seen it, take this photo, and pack it out as my only souvenir for the season.
Elk shed their antlers each spring, the large bones break off against rocks, trees and often times while sparring with other bulls.