There were three trails that came to it, the ground around it was pummeled to a powder and the salt had large, deep, lick marks in it. And, in case you're wondering, there was elk sign (poop) around and no cattle. So far, so good. I drove home to Phoenix with visions of elk in my head, now making 4 trips on the beloved 82B.

I drove back out the Thursday before opening Friday, set up camp and set up a ground blind on the backside of a very large deadfall 30 yards from the salt. So far I haven't heard a single bugle and, with the archery elk season starting late, on the 15th, I had expected to hear much more.

Opening morning, before daylight, found me in the blind, all camoed up, Scent Shield on my clothes and a drop of earth scent on each boot. I saw one lone bull walk up the hill off to my right and then one lone cow, about 80 yards back in the trees. A short while later there were four bulls together in a bachelor group near where the cow had been and then... nothing. Nothing came in to the salt. No more elk. No bugling. But I did have a beautiful fox walk right by me not four feet away.

I sat the blind in the evening until after dark. Then sat the blind Saturday morning. Saw and heard nothing.

There was a tank on the topo, about a mile away to the northeast, called Tower Tank, which I had tried to find with the truck following the “roads” on my scouting trip but didn't see it. So, that afternoon, I decided to use the GPS and hike to it. I found the tank. It had lots of water and elk tracks but all of the tracks were old. I hiked back to camp and then sat the salt again that evening. No elk. No bugling. But I did have two foxes walk right through camp and say Hi.

Sunday morning (the 17th if you're keeping track) I sat the salt again. Saw and heard nothing again so I decided to drive down to Tower tank with a pop-up blind and then spend the evening there. That blind, even though it has backpacking straps, is too heavy and clumsy to carry downhill for a mile over the boulder strewn roads. I no sooner had driven 100 yards when, all of a sudden, my steering wheel had no effect. I stopped the truck on the hill, spun the wheel both ways and, nothing. It turns out that the transfer bar (center link in the Toyota manual) had broken - snapped in two.

The truck is a 1988 Toyota 4Runner with 226,000 miles that I have had since new. It has driven on countless 4WD trips, hunting trips, fishing trips, scouting trips - in short, on the worst roads imaginable. It has never let me down. I have pulled out Ford F-250 4WD trucks, Jeeps, Quads, Chevy Z71s, you name it. This was a first. And it would be a long hike out. But fortunately we had cell-phone coverage out there. And, fortunately, I was close to camp.

So I called my friend Kent who also has a (newer) 4Runner and he headed out from Munds Park to rescue me. He had already planned to camp a few days with me during the hunt anyway so he was ready to go. It's one thing to navigate the "roads" through PJ (pinion/juniper) country when it's light out, but when it's dark, it's almost impossible. He already had maps of where I was and directions to get there but it was well after dark when he arrived at my truck. We ate dinner by the campfire and then spent the night in camp.

We took a look at the salt the next morning and then Kent drove me and all my camping stuff to his place in Munds Park where we spent the night. We checked on the broken part at O'Reilly's Auto Parts in Flag and they wanted $400 plus several days to get it. I decided to check back in Glendale. So, since he and his wife were going to Glendale the next day anyway, they drove me to my home in Glendale where I unloaded all my stuff and ordered the center link from Auto Zone for $300 and they had it ready by 3:00 the next day.

I spent the next four days at home, took a much needed shower and was able to go to church on Sunday. On Monday morning at 6:00 Pastor Jim, who I've known for 40 years and hunted, camped and hiked with, picked me up in his 2017 Tacoma and we drove out to my truck. He had one flat (LF sidewall) on the way out on the road behind camp. It took only 15 minutes to change the tire but it took 3 hours and both of us plus both of our tools to fix the 4Runner. It was not a small job.

The center link connects the steering box Pittman arm on one end to the idler arm on the other end and to both of the tie-rod ends (also the steering damper). It broke right next to the Pittman arm - therefor the loss of all steering. A Pittman arm puller was necessary to pull the arm off as well as all the other connections to the link. It deformed one of the threaded ball joints so we had to file the threads down with my SwissTool in order to get the nut threaded back on. But when done, steering was restored and we drove to camp and had lunch before he left to go back to Phoenix.

The story should end here. Sorry, but it doesn't. As Jim drove back down from camp, he lost the road. The road is mostly a path between trees - sometimes it is clear and sometimes you have to guess. It is more of a suggestion. And it is often more rocky and bumpy than the non-road. Anyway, he drove a ways through the PJ looking for it, had another flat (RF sidewall) and called me on the phone. So, here we were. Jim could not drive anywhere and wasn't sure where he was and I couldn't find him. He knew he had passed Cooley tank but that's it. I drove over a mile down the road and then came back without finding him. Then I remembered Life360.

My wife and I have this app on our phones called Life360. With it we can see where each of us is at any time. It's really handy. So I told Jim about it. He installed it on his phone. I added him to my family and, voila, I could see where he was on my phone. Since my truck, fortunately, was now running, I drove to his truck, we put the two flat tires in the back of mine and headed back to camp. It was getting dark so we ate dinner, sat around the campfire, I played a few songs on the guitar to serenade what few elk were in the area and then slept in the tent. It was a beautiful night - bright stars and large moon. It would have been nice to hear some bugling.

We got up the next morning and hiked up to check the salt block and saw what appeared to be several fresh new tracks. Then we left the camp set up (no one comes up there anyway), drove to Flagstaff so Jim could buy 2 new tires and drove back to his truck, replaced the tires, and Jim left there for Phoenix and another trip down the 82B. I waited till he called from the paved FR3 then hiked to Tower tank and sat till dark. Nothing seen or heard. As I left the tank in the dark my headlamp quit. I had a spare flashlight so I used it to get the spare batteries for the headlamp and then hiked back to camp. I only lost the road twice. So I got back to camp late and went to bed.

On Wednesday morning (that would be the 27th), I hiked back to Tower tank early and sat until 10:00. Nothing, no elk, no bugling, and hiked back to camp. Since the tracks at the tank looked old and the ones at the salt looked new, I went back to the salt for the evening. No bugling or elk seen for 3 days.

There was one day left in the season. I decided to sit the salt that morning and then pack up and leave around lunch time. At 8:30 I saw one cow, again, through the trees and at about 80 yards. I waited, expecting her to make her way to the salt, but then I saw she had a calf with her. I won't shoot a cow with a calf (yes, there's a story there). Then, as I waited I saw there was also a forky bull with them.

I stayed until 10:00, went back to camp, packed up, ate lunch and got home at 4. Gas at Arcosanti was $3.99, at our corner station it was $5.19! What's with that??

All told, we made 12 trips down that miserable 13 miles of road. I made 8. Kent made 2 and Jim made 2. Not sure what the moral of this story is but you can rest assured you won't find 5BN on any elk application of mine in the future.

If it had not been for good friends who sacrificed their time and vehicles, my truck might still be out there. I am thankful for that. And for great weather, my SwissTool, Verizon cell service, and for the beauty and serenity of the outdoors that God so graciously allows us to partake of. We are fortunate indeed.