Cow at the left, bull in the background. A calm moment, but the annual rut had begun, and elk are very dangerous at this time of year. And of course, despite warning signs and verbal warnings from staff, people were walking right up to these critters with their point and shoot cameras. Monitoring from Parks Canada was almost nonexistent, especially this year, in the wake of massive layoffs (42 staff cut from this park alone) and widespread demoralization among staff. Someone will get hurt. It's only a matter of time. Jasper National Park, Alberta.

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© James R. Page - all rights reserved.

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First shot: A bull Elk, trotting across an open field to put some distance between himself and the rolling red Toyota blind, gets an idea.

Second shot: It looks like one of his front hooves grazed the top strand of barbwire. Look at how it is now curving downward. Will he make it?

Third shot: Of course he made it! The big guy knows exactly how much energy to expend. See the top strand now bowing upward. And then... he was gone.

Of note: I have never seen an elk in this area, so what a shock to spot this one on an early morning supply run to Swift Current (120 km north of my home). He gave me a brief look, but was on the move before I could lock focus, and all I could photograph was his hindquarters. It worked because he decided to jump the fence - otherwise I would have butt shots of a large animal trotting away from me, not too exciting or memorable.

To my Flickr friends: my pal George the filmmaker is in town so I've been up early (pre-dawn) and out shooting with him; consequently no time or energy to spend online. I'm normally not found drinking coffee and hammering away at the keyboard at 5 a.m. As we move through fall, the sun isn't up until after 7, and the light is good all day. It's a sweet time of year, maybe bittersweet, too, as we lose our migratory birds until next spring and the summer foliage gives us the last bursts of colour we'll see for months (aside from blue skies and blazing red sunrises and sunsets).

Photographed north of Beaver Valley and south of Cadillac, Saskatchewan (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2023 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

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Here he is, the bull Elk that no other bull would challenge, king of the herd. A 7x9 bull - count the tines - is fairly rare. I "met" an 8x8 a couple dozen years ago in this same park; he followed his harem of cows as they wandered through my campsite, and proceeded to trash a young sapling next to my tent while I crouched behind my car. It's best not to present a target when one of these big fellas is pumped up during the rut. They can be edgy and aggressive. And they're huge.

At this point we - half a dozen photographers - had been following the elk herd for about an hour as they moved through the woods and down to the Athabasca River. I liked being in the open. A gentle, misty rain was falling; there was better light, and far less likelihood of a surprise encounter at close range. Of course, there were also fewer trees to hide behind...

Photographed in Jasper National Park, Alberta (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

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Not a huge as yesterday's 7x9 monster bull, he was nonetheless pretty solid, and as crazy as all the other Elk during the rut. Five photographers, including me, were shooting into a forest clearing where he stood guarding a single cow and occasionally bugling. We were at a respectful distance. What happened next is just one of those things that happen...

The cow got up from her rest and started ambling toward us. "Uh-oh," someone said, "Here she comes!" The bull was right behind her. She accelerated and we scattered for the nearby trees. I zigged left, looked over my shoulder, saw they were quickly overtaking me, so I cut sharp right - and stepped into a hole that was hidden in tall grass. Down I crashed, striking my left forearm on the sharp edge of a hidden, cut tree stump. Wow, the pain! The two Elk shot past at a brisk trot. "Are you okay?" one of the other photographers asked. I said, "Yeah." The old guy in denial. Over the next few days the point of impact went yellow, then green; I didn't seek medical help because it only hurt when I applied pressure, and there were no moving parts. I wasn't going to truncate my trip over a bone bruise or hairline fracture. It wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me; not even close.

Anyway, after dusting myself off, I worked my way back through the woods, and caught up with the big guy as he emerged into a parking lot, which he slowly crossed, disappearing into the forest on the far side. We were pretty close at this point, but there was some swampy, muddy depressed ground between us, and a lot of small trees and shrubs that gave me partial concealment. And he wasn't acting aggressive in any way. We just had to stay out of his line of travel, lest he get ideas.

Update on the arm: it healed slowly, ached off an on until about late December. It's fine now. I may be too old to be running around the woods like this, but it's still the most fun thing I can think of doing - so I'm not likely to quit anytime soon. I really have narrowed down my list of fun things.

More Elk rut photos still to come...

Photographed in Jasper National Park, Alberta (Canada). Don't use this image on websites, blogs, or other media without explicit permission ©2021 James R. Page - all rights reserved.

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