Elizabeth Mountain, 10,359 feet above sea level in Summit County, comes up a good 3,000 feet short of Utah's tallest, 13,528-foot Kings Peak in neighboring Duchesne County. In fact, Utah is home to several breathtaking spires that reach above 13,000 feet; the state has more of the tallest peaks in the country than any other state including Alaska and Colorado. So Elizabeth is pretty average, but what it lacks in elevation it makes up for in resolve. Alone, it's the stately guardian of Utah's northeast boundary, where it keeps Wyoming in check. Along this state line to the east and to the west is some of Utah's best big game country--home to Shiras moose, Rocky Mountain elk and mule deer, and perhaps some of the best private and public land hunting found anywhere in the intermountain West.

Red Creek Outfitters' elk hunts take place in September during the rut, when bulls are likely to respond to calling. This sequence, filmed for "Petersen's Hunting Adventure Television," shows the author's bull rushing in to fifteen yards.

As my friend Aaron Cummins and I followed Red Creek Outfitters guide Stephan Woolstenhulme up into a scenic mountain meadow on the second day of our hunt last fall, the magical effect Utah has on big game hunters was becoming more obvious with each step. That morning, while lingering in the presence of an old bull moose awaiting invitation from its kept cow, Stephan bugled up toward the ridge at the head of the meadow. Down from the aspens above came the reply we were listening for.

"Did you hear it?" he whispered. Aaron and I nodded in unison, acknowledging the elk's response.

Less than twenty-four hours earlier Stephan had asked an important question all good guides should ask:

"How big a bull do you want to hold out for, Lee?"

I pointed to a monarch hanging from the wall inside the log lodge Stephan, his brothers and their father built a couple of years earlier as a base of operations for their Red Creek Outfitters business. It was a rather large bull with well-developed antlers measuring somewhere well above 300 inches. Seeing an opportunity to have a little fun, I replied with a straight face:

RCO outfits hunts in some of the best Shiras moose habitat in the West. This old bull would make for a magnificent trophy.

"Something like that would be fine."

Stephan nodded with an equally straight face, then looked at the elk mount for long seconds and said, "That might be tough."

I chuckled, then told the truth.

"I'll be perfectly happy with any bull you think is mature enough to shoot," I said.

Both mule deer and elk tags for RCO's exclusive properties are guaranteed under Utah's Cooperative Wildlife Management program.

Stephan grinned and with all the confidence in the world said, "All right, then we'll just get that out of the way tomorrow morning and then hunt for a big mule deer."

Prophetic.

So as we wandered up along the meadow's edge toward the yet unseen elk, I wondered what we might find and whether we'd even get a glimpse of the bull. Stephan called again after we'd gone 100 yards, and the elk responded loudly. We immediately climbed a little higher and set up at the base of a broad pine, my Kimber .300 Win. Mag. perched atop crossed sticks--just in case.

Settled in, Stephan cow-called, and we could hear the bull thrashing about in the trees, no doubt battling a wooded adversary, a challenge for the cow (us) down the ridge. When the bull bugled again, Stephan cow-called in response, which was too much for the mountain disciplinarian to handle. Down the hill he came.