This story is a tribute to my outfitter buddy Jack Wemple who passed away recently.

Elk season is here or about to start, depending on where you hunt. Most hunters traditionally head to the range to insure their rifles are still zeroed. Having confidence in your firearm is all-important. Before I hunt, I want my rifle to be as accurate as possible, as we all are. We should demand the best performance possible. My sweet-shooter is a Mossberg .308 equipped with a Timney trigger and topped with a Swarovski scope. With that combination, I'm ready to hunt.

Of the most common big game species to hunt in the lower 48, excluding hogs and bears, the most popular are, in descending order, whitetails, mule deer, elk and pronghorn antelope. Of the four, elk require the most complicated logistics because of the difficulty of hunting mountain terrain, unfamiliar hunting strategies, and simply transporting them out of the woods. Then too, an elk hunt may mean a long drive from home if you don't live in the west, an expensive nonresident license, and, if you choose to hire an outfitter -- an expensive hunt. Over the years, I've heard many folks lamenting the fact that they couldn't afford an elk hunt. The perception of an expensive hunt is due to assumptions that aren't necessarily true. Notice the word "expensive" here, used many times.

Even though I'm no longer writing for Outdoor Life or hosting my TV show, I constantly get requests from people who want information about hunting elk. Most of these folks have never hunted in the west, and most live east of the Mississippi.

I've been asked many questions about hunting over the years, given my full-time career as a hunting journalist, especially with Outdoor Life magazine. Of all those questions, the one most asked is my opinion on elk rifles. Most of those were from folks who didn't live in elk country and were coming west for the first time, but some came from experienced hunters who were no strangers to the elk woods.

The other day I walked out on the front porch to carry in some firewood, and heard a cow elk bark. I looked across the road and saw a small herd of about a dozen elk standing there in the sagebrush looking at me. They were no more than a hundred yards away from my house. As I watched them, I choked up. I don't know why. I see elk pretty much every day of the year along the highway in our valley. But the mystery here is the unexplainable fact that my brain switched from being in awe at their majesty to thinking about where I'd be applying for my cow elk tags this fall.

My last blog described an elk hunt with General Chuck Yeager where he gave me his rifle. In order to keep the blog from becoming too lengthy, I omitted a profound incident that deserves to be told.

I'm no stranger to elk hunts. I began hunting elk back in my 20's, and my interest and passion for hunting them grew to the point where they became my primary focus. I hunted elk everywhere I could, during blistering hot early fall days to bitterly cold subzero days. Because I was a full-time staff writer for Outdoor Life magazine, time was not an issue. I hunted nonstop, continually taking up the challenge in different states and different mountain ranges. I couldn't hunt elk enough.

On November of 2009, a madman at Fort Hood opened fire on our troops, killing 13 and wounding 30. Patrick Zeigler was one of the most seriously wounded, shot four times, including one devastating bullet into his skull.

Many folks believe that elk hunting is the toughest of all hunts in North America, when considering the more common species. To be sure, mountain goat and sheep hunting can be grueling, but elk, in my opinion, get the gold medal for being most challenging, day in and day out.