Playing Catch-Up, Part II

I had heard about this when it actually happened last week, but I was too behind to even think about posting it then, but like many others who have spent time in Mammoth Hot Springs in Yellowstone National Park, I'm going to do my own brief Ode to Number 6.

The ginormous bull elk died last week in Gardiner, MT, my old hometown, while trying to jump a fence in someone's yard. He was at least 15 years old (in a world where they only live to be between 13 and 18), and was 725 pounds (less than in previous years, in a world where even the big bulls get to be 700 pounds tops). I had the pleasure of seeing him many times while I lived in Yellowstone, and he even thought about chasing me once, though I was more than far enough away (as any good employee should have been). He attacked people, attacked cars, loved the ladies, and even got to have his antlers cut off twice because of his high energy. I even know the guy whose job it was to keep Number 6 from fighting with his arch-enemy, Number 10, afterward being stripped of his trophy headpieces, because the poor guy thought he still had them.

The press release from the park is here for those of you who want to know more. There are also various Odes all over the internet. He was a giant of a beast, and he was truly loved by all who knew him. Except Number 10.

That's a car taillight stuck on his antlers, for those of you who can't tell (Photo not taken by me)