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New Mexico Elk Hunt Experience... My letter to the Outfitter. TEXT AND PIC HEAVY

70K views 155 replies 90 participants last post by  beardbuster 
#1 ·
I went to New Mexico last week to hunt with a friend who drew unit 16D. Terrain and elk population wise, it was incredible. as for our trip... well, here is the letter I sent to the outfitter.

In a nut shell, we had a very inexperienced egotistical guide who spent 90% of his time practicing his trucker mouth. He treated us poorly (and that is putting it nicely) the trip ended with us losing a bull that we could not get back too to retrieve, two totaled trucks and a waste of thousands of dollars.

Here is the letter, and the only reason I am posting this up is so people can do some more checking before they book with a so called reputable guide.

I wanted to touch base and let you know that I was very unhappy with the events that your guide Tony put us through. I can guarantee you that the racist comments that Tony told people I said to him were absolutely false. Not sure what his problem was with us since the first morning, but I can tell you that he was the most unprofessional person I have ever had to spend any time with.

The drinking, the constant foul mouth, the attitude, and the lying. I am not sure where to begin. After he purposely drove around the guy stuck in the road during the flash flood instead of offering to help him out and wrecking his truck while holding a beer after making the statement that he “was trying to get his buzz on” was a fraction of what we encountered during our brief time with him. Simply put: it was not good.

Day One: We jump in his truck that stunk like rotten flesh, apparently he had helped his father with a bull and tossed all their wet bloody clothes in the back seat. Nothing dried and it began to smell of rotting flesh. He also informed us that he told his father to "just leave the meat" and not deal with it. We heard some bugles in the fog and then were lead to the top of a desolate hill for hours on end. When I asked “what are we doing up here?” his reply was, “I heard there was a big bull up here and we are sitting here until f-ing dark”. Needless to say, we had no food, no water and we sat in the open and both my friend and I were sunburned by the end of the day.

Tonys attitude continued and the next day with a sharp tongue and having him lead us away from several bulls. He talked my friend out of shooting a couple bulls by saying that they were “F-ing Dinks”. By this time we did not have names we were addressed as “Hey Mother F-ers”. After the hunt on the second morning, we both knew something wasn’t right.

That afternoon, we returned to a spot we hunted in the morning and had Tony purposely walk us away from bugling bulls. Eventually he found a mule deer shed antler and then began shed hunting for himself for the next 45 minutes. I asked him “whats with the nature hike?” he said “all those bulls were F-ing Dinks and its too late to go after them”. Instead we walked further away from the elk and eventually I spotted a herd down a hill.

The bull in the heard was a respectable 320 class. I mentioned that we should go after him and his reply was “that bull is a f-ing dink, I’m not wasting my time on that f-ing dink”. I told him, “this is "MY FRIENDS" tag, it is his decision to shoot or not to shoot and I have a feeling that you are purposely dry hunting us.” Tony was silent.

That night as we were at camp standing near the cook tent. Tony leaned over to Lance, (the other guide) and began talking trash about Rocky and myself. I mentioned the nature hike and he told Lance “yeah, they **** me off so I may have taken them on a hike for a bit” as he laughed and drank his beer. Class act. During this day also, Tony told Ed, the cook that My Friend and I were racist and that we did not like Mexicans. I found this out the next morning when I decided to ride with Ed to the hunting spot and we had a talk. He mentioned what Tony had said, I assured him that those statements were false.

Next morning. Its raining pretty good as we get out of the truck. We head up a hill towards some bugling elk. We get closer and without fail, every time a bull would bugle he would walk us the other direction. By this time, his antics were getting very old. We had a bull bugling about 200 yards in front of us and instead of trying to get a look at him, he would purposely get the wind to our backs and walk the other direction. Finally I asked him “what are we doing? We have had at least 4 bulls in close and you keep taking us in the opposite direction”?

His reply was, “that sounds like a f-ing dink”... Could have guessed that.

We move a little further and get close to a decent 6x5. A big heavy bull about 150 yards in front of us. Continuing up the hill we top out near an open grassy bowl filled with elk. There was a gorgeous 5x5 that put on quite a show. This 5x5 was very dominate and probably pushed the 300 inch mark. My Friend admired the bull and as I stayed my distance from Tony, I could here Tony with his usual banter and comments. Talking My Friend out of making a game plan for a shot.

The bull eventually walked by us and it would have been a 40 yard shot. We spotted another bull up the hill and continued on. We did have an opportunity at a respectable bull at 38 yards. My Friends peep twisted on his string and there was no second opportunity to settle his pin on the bull. We moved over the hill and sat down listening to bulls bugle in every direction.

Tony stands up and says “well, lets head back to camp”. I say “what are you talking about? There are elk going nuts in every direction and you want to walk away! We punch more tags between 10am and 2pm every year, these are prime to be killed”.

“Well” Tony replies, “these elk are different, and if you don’t think I know what I am f-ing doing then why dont you f-ing do it”! Then he storms off the hill leaving us sitting there on the log. Ed who had joined us that morning finally got a chance to see what we had been putting up with the entire time.

We catch up with Tony down at the bottom of the hill and have a little Pow Wow. We let him know that we are simply asking him “WHY” as none of his actions have made any sense as we walk away from elk after elk and it seems purposely. After a quick chat we shake hands and begin the hike out. For the next 2.5 hours everything seems ok.

Back to camp and we plan to return to the hill where we left the elk.

That afternoon, we drive out the weather is good as we make our way back to the hill. The elk are already talking as we park. A bull bugles twice behind us and instead of working towards him to check him out... We walk away from him. The bull was within 200 yards.

We work our way up the road and climb a couple hills. Another bull bugles off to our left so we keep moving to the right, walking away from him. I’m thinking “Here we go again”.

We move down a hill and a big bull begins to bugle and work our way, this bull is very vulnerable and could have been dead in two calls. I’m instructed NOT to make a sound as I see the elk move towards us. Tony does not call and the bull moves up over the hill. I snap a couple pictures of the bull as he crests the hill about 300 yards away.

We move up the hill and eventually get on a few bulls going nuts. We are about 200 yards and in the heat of the action, Tony sits down. “Lets see if they feed by” he says. My Friend and I look at each other and are perplexed with the absolute laziness that we have been stuck with.

After about 15 minutes the elk are still going nuts. I hear one bull advancing and tell Tony that we need to set up. My Friend and I move forward and as the bulls continue to bugle and carry on I look back at Tony and he is sitting by a tree. I motion for him to cow call and he gives a couple really soft calls barely heard through the rain coming down now. I give him the THUMBS UP sign to increase the volume and not much happens. The bulls move back a little bit so Rocky and I advance closer. We look back at Tony and he comes walking up with a couple shed antlers.

We make a quick plan to set up again and this time Tony seems more in tune with calling to the elk. We set up and with in a few minutes a bull closes the distance to 31 yards. Rockys shot is on target and his arrow buries in the chest of the 6x6. I watch the bull run, stumble and then pass a big oak before dropping in the ravine. Not wanting to push the bull, we mark the elk on the GPS and place some ribbons on the tree where we shot, and where we found the broken arrow. The rain was coming down hard at this point and any blood wash quickly washed away.

Walking out we feel confident that the bull has expired. It takes us about an hour and a half of hiking over ridges to get back to our road. The rain had stopped as we unloaded our wet packs and jumped in the truck. Tony had a cooler of beer and asked if I wanted one. “Sure” I replied and he tosses me a Bud Light. He grabs two and jumps in the front seat. Im thinking of the conversation that Ed, the cook had with My Friend and I about Tony being told not to drink until the clients are safely back at camp. Shaking my head, I jump in the back seat of the truck. Its a slow wet, sloppy road and we work our way down. There is one stretch were Tony is driving with one hand and holding his beer in the other. We begin to slide to the left and start to sink. After tossing out quite a few profanities and gunning the truck we eventually make it through the mess and back on the road. It would have been a long walk back to camp.

We hit the main line and My Friend jumps out of the front seat to open the barbed wire gate. Tony looks back and me and says “You want another beer”? I reply, “I’m good” as I have only drank about half of the one I have. He looks back again and states “Im trying to get my buzz on” and grabs two more beers. Once again, my mind says... Class act.

We head down the road and you can tell it had rained, quite a bit. We continue down the road and there is a log 3/4 of the way across the road. “That’s odd” I’m thinking and then around the next corner, “DAMN” the creek had breached and there was water over the road. We continue on as Tony finishes his third beer and opens his fourth. Now we are driving down a river in what used to be the road and it has a very fast current. The water is up to the middle of the tires as we push along. Eventually we see a tail lights in the road. We move closer and you can tell there is someone trying to get our attention. We pull to about 40 yards behind the truck and on our right hand side is a man dressed in camouflage saying “You better stop, I have been here for over two hours and its not getting any better. My truck is taller than yours and its stuck. If you can put a chain on my bumper and pull me out, we can both drive outta here”.

The water is getting higher and Tony pay the guy zero regard. He looks at the guy and states “You don’t think I can get by”? And with one hand on the steering wheel and the other clutching his beer, guns the truck advancing to the left of the already stuck truck. Tonys truck slides on its drivers side and tips up against the bank immediately submerged as water begins to fill the cab from the driver side. My Friend and are are sitting on the passenger side of the truck and begin grabbing our gear.

I ask Tony “What the hell were you thinking”? It was very apparent that he had zero intentions of helping the stranded hunter. Tonys realization that he just pulled off the biggest bonehead move in history were apparent with the constant cussing and cursing of his truck. Granted it was less F-Bombs than he would say in an average sentence.

The truck is leaning ant an extreme angle, I have the back door propped on my back as I’m gathering my camera gear and what I feel is the most important. My Friend gathers himself and is yelling at Tony. “Hey, do you want this?” As he lifts Tonys pistol towards him. He grabs the pistol and then says “F- it, its ruined lets go”. My Friend and I climb out of the truck as the water is absolutely raging below. I climb in to the back of the truck that is littered with trash and empty beer cans from Tony drinking and tossing them on to the top and they would slide into the bed.

My Friend and I get onto the bank and snap a few photos of the truck and the mayhem. Looking around, Tony is GONE! Down the road a few hundred yards we can make out a light, its him walking away and leaving us to fend for ourselves. The other hunter has a pretty good attitude for almost having some idiot smash into his truck. He comes up and says, “Looks like we have a long walk ahead” and extends his hand. “Im Kevin”. We shake hands and apologize for the the mess. He asks who the other guy is and we say “He’s our GUIDE”. “Your Guide? And he just left you”??. I state that it has been an interesting few days with him.

The rain stops and we walk down the middle of the road with is about knee deep in most spots and up to our waist in others. I am 6’2 and My Friend is 6’4... It was deep. Eventually we meet up with Tony and he has this recollection that it was just an unfortunate accident. We say nothing. I am not pleased, and at the same time, not surprised.

We walk about an hour and eventually see some head lights in the road. As we advance, its Ed. We wade our way up the truck and let him know that he cannot go any further. The road is narrow and we have to make a 48 point turn in his truck. We would stand at the corners and tell him to stop and the shoulders of the road would begin to sink. The only way we could do this was by standing in the water and feeling the mud sink.

We turned the truck around and jumped in the back. The water was still moving rapidly but we were on our way to camp. More headlights began to move towards us. A big truck in the lead began to drift towards the shoulder and sunk. He was stuck. We turned the truck around behind him and Kevin jumped in back to try and make some calls where he could gather cell reception. We eventually got the trailer and truck unstuck and turned around with the help of Ed, My Friend and Myself. Tony stood on the side of the road with his hands in his pockets the entire time.

We get back to camp at 12:30 am. Grab some food and get Kevin a dry place to sleep for the night. Our other hunter Shawn was still unaccounted for with his guide Lance. At 1:30, Shawn arrived at camp, alone. The rain and lightning came in hard and I believe it was 330am before I could finally sleep. Shawn said that Lances truck had been stuck in a hole from one of the creeks. He tried help Lance but eventually began to try and convince Lance that they needed to make the 6 mile trek back to camp. Lance refused to leave and Shawn hiked out alone. Another great guide who put his client in harms way to save a 1992 4-Runner over the safety of a human life.

The next morning we woke and still no Lance. Shawns bow was in the back of Lances rig and My Friends Bow was locked in a case in the back of Tonys submerged truck. We had some breakfast and tried to make a plan. My Friend Shawn and myself drove to Apache Creek to shower and wash the mud out of our clothes using Shawns Rental truck. The Jeep we rented had about 5% tread and slipped all over the place. It was not safe to drive in these conditions.

Tony had been drinking all morning. By the time we left, he had about 8 beers in him. He knew we were going to town and asked My Friend to buy him beer. My Friend refused and then Tony asked me. He wanted a 30 pack of Bud Light and some Coke for the full bottle of Crown that Shawn had in camp. My thinking “what the hell, you cant hurt anyone if you’re stuck in camp”. So I took the money and brought him back the beer.

During our drive we decided that we needed to retrieve the bows. We knew at this point that there was no retrieving My Friends bull and the feeling was beginning to set in. We had a state game officer show up in camp and the consensus was that My Friend could hunt if he chose too, but either way we needed to get the gear and items left in the truck.

About 2:30pm we put back on our wet boots and headed down the road to retrieve the bows. It was Shawn, My Friend, Myself and Ed; the cook. I must admit that Ed was the constant bright spot in all of this. Even though his portions on his cooking were slim, his heart and determination were to ensure everything went smoothly was great.

Our guide, Tony, stayed in camp and drank. Half the bottle of Crown was gone by this time. Throughout all this mess, I was always cordial to Tony. I asked him a couple times about getting in touch with his insurance. His comment was “I called my agent but he is hunting”. I mentioned that there is a hotline number where you can report accidents. His comment was, he will call me back when he’s done hunting.* My first inclination; this guy has been driving us around with no insurance. I am almost positive I am right. My Friend asked Tony of there was anything that he wanted from the truck. “Nope, just leave it as it is”. Ok, replied My Friend and we left it at that.

We plowed through the water and made it back to the trucks. Kevin was already there shoveling for the previous 6 hours and slowly inching his truck to freedom. I jumped in the back seat and grab the rest of my gear that wasn’t soaked in mud. My Friend took a brief look in the front seat and there was Tonys GPS, some optics, more gear and in the center console, Tony’s wallet with his ID and credit cards.

Rocky said “look here” and lifted it up. “Oh crap”, I replied and asked if he was going to bring it out. Rocky said, “I asked him if he wanted anything and he said, NO”. The wallet went back in the console and was closed. We began the hike out carrying Rockys bow case and bow.

Ed and Shawn continued up the road to try and find Lance. Ed packed in some food and the idea was to have Lance come out with them. They returned later and Lance refused to come out with them. Shawn did retrieve his bow.

We made it back to camp at 530 and decided to take a drive to get away from camp. Tony was still drinking. As we went to leave, Tony asked to tag along. We couldn’t go too far as the tires on our rental had zero tread. A short drive we spot 49 elk on a hill side with a couple good bulls. It was a random sighting, lucky is more like it. Tony pipes up with a plan of how we will make a stalk on these elk in the middle of a wide open hill side. I asked how this was going to happen and he says “You ever hunt antelope, I hope you can shoot 80 yards”!

So Now, we have a guy who has made all the wrong moves everyday, comes out here with us and is trying to push his “client” into shooting past his comfort zone, all for the sake of trying to salvage a hunt. Bare in mind, that My Friend has an extended knee, bad ankles and a torn muscle in his calf from walking through the water. These elk are on a wide open grassy plain and the thought of sneaking up to them as they “feed by” has about as much validity of Tony thinking he could have made it past the truck in the road.

We continue to look for more elk or a better situation. Nothing. Tony pipes up and says “I’m really surprised we saw anything there tonight” which confirms he had zero plan. If he was a stand up guide many things would not have happened. He would never have talked to us the way he did. There would have been some sort of respect for the people paying his bills/salary. He would ensured that we had food and water and was comfortable. He would have never talked smack about his clients to the other guides, told Ed that we were racist, Lied to the owner and told him that I called him a “DIRTY MEXICAN”, and even if the flood would have taken over the truck he would have made sure that our safety and well being was the first priority.

Back in camp even with out a truck there was still opportunities. Rocky was there to hunt, I was there to document a hunt for EXTREME ELK. We mentioned a spot behind camp and Tony said “Go back there if you want but I didn’t see sh*t back there so good luck”.

Shawn had his bow with him and now that there was only one opportunity at the elk that we found, and a poor one at that we began to talk. Tony came into our tent to pour himself another drink (crown). Then turns around as we are watching him and like a football coach says “OK, so here is the plan tomorrow. We need to sneak up on those elk and when say sneak, I mean sneak and we need to be low. Low like the f-ing grass low, due to the circumstances this is the only opportunity we have”.


I shook my head and said “What do you mean due to the circumstances”? I mentioned that I was going to sit this one out. Four people crawling though the grass is not going to work. If I can take myself and give My Friend or Shawn a better chance then there was no reason for me to be there. On top of that, these elk were 300 yards from private ground. No guarantees that these elk would be there by morning. Tony quickly replied back “my truck man, my truck is f-ed up… you were there”!

I then replied. “The only reason we are in this circumstance is because someone asked you, begged you not to go past them and help get them out so both rigs could drive out. You with all your infinite wisdom decided that it was smart to take your drunken self, with us in the vehicle and tear past this guy who you had zero intentions of helping and totaled your truck with us in it. YOU are the reason we are in this circumstance”!

He grabbed his drink and left the tent. My Friend decided that it was time to leave this circus behind and punched his tag out of respect for the animal we could not retrieve. This was Saturday night, our flights were scheduled for Tuesday.

On Sunday morning we told Ed that we were packing up and heading to Albuquerque. The hunt was over. After all the problems that we had with Tony, he was sent out to take Shawn hunting. He should have been fired on the spot. As Tony and Shawn drove past us on the way to another spot, I thought this should be interesting. Here is a guide with no wallet, no cash and the client is using his rental and his money to finish the hunt. Classy.

On the way out, we met up with Jimmy, a guide they had sent for us. I wish we had Jimmy the whole time. He was very professional, clean, excited to hunt and very apologetic for the few days we had to endure with Tony.

We drove back to Albuquerque and purchased new tickets for the flight home resulting in an additional $200 fee to change and cancel the ticket for myself alone. Hotel and fees on top of this to ensure that we could return home and try and wash this hunt from our minds.

We took over 1000 pictures while in the field. Tony asked for some of the images to send to his insurance agent. The pictures of the truck submerged show the beer cans all over it. I never sent him any images, Rocky neither.

This is the true account of what happened. I did leave some things out, but you get the idea of how it went. I am not sure what your plans are for Tony but I can assure you that no one deserves to be treated the way that we were after spending the money we did for this hunt.


I emailed it and heard nothing back. The email was sent to Cabelas and will be sent to the New Mexico Guides and Outfitters Association.

Some pics:

in order: begin of trip












just before being told we needed to head to camp. we were watching 4 bulls







the flood:






Excellent driving Tony










luckily it had stopped raining for the walk out. It began again around 11pm and poured buckets all night

the next day:














Heading back to camp. It rained twice as hard this night.
 
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#11 · (Edited)
Public lands. My buddy drew the OUTFITTER tag through Cabelas. Believe me, we looked through the regs to see if we could distance ourselves from this guy. What I am sharing is a FRACTION of what we went through each day. I bit my tongue out of respect for my friend as I was there to help him kill a big bull. There was a couple times I was ready to explode. Especially after he talked smack about us and then asked to use my phone charger and my smoke in the bottle.

The smoke in the bottle, was a big mystery to me, the wind was ALWAYS in our backs. I have never walked away from more bugling bulls... take that back I HAVE NEVER WALKED AWAY FROM A BUGLING BULL until this hunt. I bet we walked away from 20.

I put up quite a few pics on my instragram and facebook for those who are connected to me there as well.

Our camp conditions were bottom shelf, almost as low as the service. When guys fork out over 6K for a hunt of a lifetime, you'd expect more... you'd think. My mind was always racing. I thought "if I had paid what you two paid, I'd be calling the bank ASAP".
 
#7 ·
Speechless. You are way more patient and controlled than I would have been. I guarantee my brother woulda drowned the guy. The worst part is it sounds like you were in the elk big time and it coulda been a fantastic hunt.

I'd also post this on monster mulies with the outfitters name and make a report on the drinking and driving to the state police and wildlife enforcement. What say we all go back down there and find that bull?
 
#12 ·
Mind sharing the outfitter? PM is fine but I want to stay a loooooong way from this crew.

Sorry for your friends busted hunt.
 
#14 ·
Yes, A 310 bull. the guy was backpacked into the wilderness and shot it 6 miles in. Hiked the bull out in pieces and was on his way to the meat locker. He put 60 miles on foot to kill and retrieve that bull to have this happen. I saw him on our way out and he said he lost a small portion of the meat but was glad the ordeal was over. The guy was a die hard, I was impressed with his tenacity and attitude with all that happened
 
#15 ·
Drawing an outfitter tag only requires a minimum of contact with him or his registered guide. You could have walked after you said goodbye the 2nd morning ....

(c) A New Mexico Outfitter shall ensure that the hunter-client is accompanied by the outfitter or​
their registered guide for at least two days in the area where the hunter-client’s license is valid. There is no specific​
time requirement per day, but shall be specified per the outfitter’s contract with the hunter-client.​
 
#18 ·
That was the worst horror story I ever heard man. Nobody deserves that especially after the time and money spent. You guys seem to be way more patient then me, i would have kicked that guys @$$ after the second day, and left him face down in the mud. I would think that there is some legal action you could take regarding his actions especially all the drinking he seemed to be doing.
 
#21 ·
What a crazy story. Sorry you guys had to go through that. I would hope you receive a reply from your letter soon. Hopefully that guide will be replaced and never hired again by an outfitter. Thanks for sharing and glad you made it out alive.
 
#22 ·
I used to live in the Gila and I was down there on an elk hunt last year in a nearby unit. The whole last day of the hunt we listened to a couple of guys on the radio most of the day make complete asses out of themselves, cussing, berating, and yelling at each other on what to do and how to do. From stalking and shooting the bull to how the pictures needed to be taken, to how they were going to trespass on private property that they admitted they didn't have permission to be on to get the elk out that night. I have never felt so bad for any hunter having to put up with those guides and the outfitter. I cringed as I listened to them on the radio as we packed our bull out. There are some shady guides and outfitters down there. Sorry about your hunt. The Gila is a magical place, i'm sorry it was ruined for you.
 
#29 ·
Well there is always 2 sides to every story, but wow! I wonder what tony' s side would sound like? What a joker! After 10 years in New Mexico, believe me, there is A TON of horrible outfits down there, ripping guys off.
Please don't tell me the name of the outfitter was either Jim hill or Rick sears. 2 guys that this wouldn't surprise me at all about!
 
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