In Estes Park, Colorado, the elk rule the town.
Especially in the fall, which is ‘rutting’ season— the time of year in which male bull elks emerge from the mountains and deep woods to attract and round up potential mates.
Somewhat oddly, these 700-pound elk decide to make a beeline INTO town, heading right into civilization to collect their mates. Meaning, from mid-September on to mid-October, the roads, plazas, and even the town golf course in Estes Park are so rife with dozens and hundreds of elk, that one has to both walk (and drive) carefully, as elk are often literally just feet away.
(See? While I used a large zoom lens to capture this up-close photo, this huge bull elk was only about 6-10 feet from my van window when I snapped it. Don’t worry, both Mac and I were safe inside the van).
To celebrate this annual arrival of these magnificent creatures, the town of Estes Park holds a festival— creatively named “Elk Fest” — but more on that later.
Colorado is known for splendid fall foliage, not the multi-colored-red-orange type, but specifically the bright yellow of the aspen trees. And while it’s not exactly on the same scale of ‘leaf peeping’ in the Northeast United States, a good number of tourists visit the Rocky Mountain National Park area in anticipation of seeing the “peak” golden aspen leaves before they tumble to the ground.
When I first got to town, I took an easy, urban hike to see the leaves in their full splendor, hoping I timed my visit right— this fall season was particularly warm, with temperatures in the high 70s during the day. This hike overlooked the town of Estes Park, and was just the right length (at about 4 miles) for Mac, who was cooped up after a few travel days in the van.
It was not nearly as stunning as any of the hikes in nearby Rocky National Park, but even still, the aspen leaves were turning a spectacular hue. And the sun felt warm on our skin (and fur), and this his was a great start to our time at altitude (acclimating is key).
Mac and I scrambled to the top, a little rocky bluff– and got a 360-view of the valleys all around.
Now, more about the elk and the particulars of Elk Fest.
‘Rutting’ season is actually named for the specific sparring of the antlers that males exhibit at this time as they tangle to determine which male is dominant enough to mate. These are not “fights” but are posturing, as actual fights would weaken the bulls too much for mating. But these duels of interlocking horns do serve the purpose of clearing the field of potential rivals for the biggest bull elk.
Like a hot lady on Tinder, between 300 and 600 bull elks might be vying for the attentions of a single “cow” (yes, female elk are called ‘cows’). And like a super-studly guy on Tinder, large, dominant bull elk might have up to 30 cows in his harem. Wild.
This elk above throwing his head back and “bugling”– no, he’s not playing a musical instrument.
The soundscape of the fall rutting season is the “bugle”— or the intense and odd sound bull elk make to summon mates or to ensure their lady elk don’t wander too far from the pack, is a heck of a noise to hear in person. A combination of a high-pitched whine and a low-pitched rumble, this bugle call is hard to miss– if you want to hear it for yourself, here’s a 60-second YouTube video from a pro photographer that really nails it:
The best thing about looking for elk in Estes Park is this: you don’t have to look very hard. They are everywhere– especially around morning and evening (they don’t like to get too hot, so they tend to disappear during the heat of the day). And there’s a HUGE telltale sign of an elk-spotting:
People pulling their cars over to the side.
Yep. Unless I was the only car on the road, it was often easy to see elk harems, as naturally, people would stop their cars and watch for awhile. Also, asking people in-town where some of the latest elk were sighted is a good way to get a cross-street or intersection to go check out.
In Estes Park, you don’t have to be a professional to get images like the picture I shot below.
No special technique to share– Mac and I just got into the van every morning after dawn, and every evening as the sun began to set, and stuck to the main roads acting as veins into and out-of town. Rolling along these stemming roads, I saw this huge bull eating lazily.
He was thoroughly unimpressed with me.
My only ‘pro tip’ is not to move. Once you have the bull elk and his harem in your sights, just be still. I often chose to stay in my van, as I didn’t want to startle them. Bull elk are especially cagey about defending their small herd of mates at this time of year– and you don’t want to be mistaken for a challenger, or you’ll end up regretting it.
In the photos below, you can observe the intricacies of the ‘dance’ of the rut– which is going to have some detail about mating, so if you’d prefer to skip ahead, see you in a couple paragraphs.
Still here? OK…
Each “cow” is only able to reproduce for about 24 hours, so the bull is always checking the scents in the air to gauge the right moment. Super-grossly, this is often done by sticking his tongue out near the female’s rump, which looks downright clumsy– like the worst pick-up attempt in the entire world.
Nine times out of ten (or more), the cow will run away from him (which means she’s not ready to mate). So, the bull elk ends up looking quite silly, flicking its tongue in the air while the cow bolts away from him.
When observing animals, it’s hard not to anthropomorphize — and to think about this bull elks and their injured egos like a bunch of dude-bro-club-goers as their advances get continuously rebuffed.
The bull elk are so enamored with their mates and their task of reproducing (and so tired from defending their harem once they have one), they forego much of their needed grazing and sleep— and can therefore lose massive amounts of weight during the rutting season. In fact, they often look more and more bedraggled and worn as the season goes on.
Mac just LOVED seeing the elk– I’m not kidding, he began scanning the sides of the road every time we drove the roads of Estes Park. This was extremely helpful, and if he swiveled his head quickly, I knew to brake and take a look around for a herd of elk.
I wasn’t sure if Elk Fest would be too crowded to be enjoyable, as I was sure big crowds would press into the small square it would be held in. But my curiosity got the best of me, and I headed to downtown Estes Park with Mac to check out the festivities.
The downtown area of Estes Park was charming as heck– historic buildings that were no taller than two stories, with a slew of small businesses up and down the main road. Talking with a few of the locals, they shared the town had legislated firmly to keep chain stores and restaurants out of the downtown.
If you’ve ever wanted to try an elk burger or elk jerky, why not try it within yards of where they graze? Being vegetarian, I passed on these opportunities– but purchased some jerky for family.
I was greeted at the Elk Fest by a huge bust of a formerly-majestic bull elk. This was “Samson”– apparently the most famed elk in all of Estes Park history. Wondering how it was that his head became mounted to the stage, I read the ‘story of Samson’ placard nearby, and took in the sad story of the town’s most loved elk being killed by a poacher in 1995.
The man was charged with Samson’s death and received 90 days in jail and a fine of $6,000.
The festival itself contained row after row of tents, some selling elk merchandise (yep, I bought a little elk stuffed animal that bugled when a button was pressed), and some offering educational materials. Mac particularly enjoyed the table in which pelts of different animals were featured– the ONLY time one should touch these animals, according to the sign.
Mac sniffed and sniffed at the pelts and hooves as if discovering some ancient part of himself.
The highlight of the elk fest was the Bugling Contest– that’s right, humans would try to mimic the sound of an elk’s call during rutting season. There were several age groups, starting with little ones and going all the way up to adults– and it was clear that some kids had waited ALL YEAR for their chance to show off their bugling skills. They were chomping at the bit while they waited for their turn.
Most of the participants used ‘elk calls’– stuff that hunters use to draw in other elk. Which was a little unsettling, given we were there to celebrate live elk AND celebrate a skill that would lure them unwittingly to their deaths. But, the elk fest also sold jerky– and thus was full of contradictions.
Here’s a kiddo from the youngest age group showing off an impressive elk bugle: not too shabby!
As you can see, Mac was always at full attention every time he heard a plausible elk call. To this day, if I play a video of an elk call– he tilts his head back and forth out of curiosity.
My campsite in Estes Park was on MacGregor Ranch, a historic ranch which I shared with many other vans who were in town for the van meetup I attended. The mountains ringing the area created a stunning backdrop for my time there– and made for a lovely place to spend a couple days.
A beer tasting was organized by the leader of the van group– the proprietor of RockCut Brewing came out to the campsite and offered us tastings from some ‘crowlers’ he brought with him. My personal favorite was the ‘Canyon Crusher’– a lager brewed with lime. It was incredibly refreshing, one of the best ‘beer with lime’ recipes I’d tried. RockCut is located right in Estes Park– check them out if you go.
I once happened upon a group of three adolescent male elk, who were clearly too young to be big bulls who would earn the right to mate, and yet too old to be with their mothers. They had grouped up for protection and companionship, while they waited and hoped for future in which they, too, would gain enough weight and grow big enough antlers to have their own harem of cows.
The adolescent elk with the largest (though still small) rack of antlers had marks up and down the fur his sides– he looked like he’d maybe tried to challenge some bulls for a cow or two, and– being so much smaller– had definitely gotten the worst of the battle. Poor guy.
Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park in the fall are resplendent places to be– between the typically warm late-season weather, the bright yellow hue of the aspen trees, and the up-close-and-personal wildlife sightings, this is a place I have always found a way to come back to.
To end this post, I’ve got a video below that shares the faint clicking sound the aspen leaves make when they rustle against each other in the wind. Ignore the idiot just out of-frame who is talking over this serene scene, and instead focus on the zen of this beautiful force of nature.
Posted by Sun
