Waves of emotion washed over Jason Turley as he walked toward the fallen bull elk.

He thought of his wife, who pushed to get him hunting-ready after surgeries to his shoulder, elbow and hip. He thought of his grandfather, his hunting mentor and long-time hunting buddy. He thought of how very fortunate he'd been to find the animal he'd shot just hours before.

"I couldn't help myself. The tears just started flowing," Turley said.

Small wonder. Turley had beaten odds that, at times, seemed stacked against him.

"It hadn't been an easy year," said Turley, a 33-year-old registered nurse from Charleston. "My body had started falling apart on me."

Years and years of competitive tennis had taken a toll on him. In July 2008, he underwent arthroscopic shoulder surgery to repair a torn labrum. Six months after that, he had a torn elbow tendon repaired. Then, just four months before his scheduled September elk hunt, he had an operation to fix some torn cartilage in one of his hip sockets.

"I was in a wheelchair for two weeks, used a walker for a week, and was on crutches for two weeks after that," Turley recalled. "I had serious doubts as to whether I'd be able to do all the backpacking an elk hunt would require. My wife, Megan, pushed me to get back into shape. I did physical therapy three times a week and spent tons of time on the stair machine and the elliptical trainer at the gym."

Three weeks before his scheduled departure, Turley finally felt healthy enough to withstand the rigors of a two-week hunt in Wyoming's rugged Wind River Mountains.

"That was a relief," he said. "I had hunted in the west before - guided hunts on private lands. This hunt was a do-it-yourself hunt on public lands. I knew I'd have to be in pretty good shape to handle all the hiking that would be involved."

For the previous two years, Turley and hunting partner Brent Billups had purchased "elk points" from the Wyoming Game and Fish Department that - if they were lucky enough to have their names drawn - would allow them to purchase permits to hunt for the Rocky Mountains' signature big-game animal.

"Brent had been trying to convince me to do an unguided hunt," Turley said. "He told me a trip like that would be very rewarding. He said that on public land, 'It's not so much about the kill; it's more about the hunt.' We made a pact to save up and do the hunt together."

Twenty-eight hours after they left for the hunt, Turley and Billups pulled into the Shoshone National Forest near Dubois, Wyo., and started looking for elk.

"We drove straight through," Turley said. "I was so excited, I was behind the wheel for 25 of the 28 hours."

Billups had hunted the area before and knew the country. Even so, he and Turley hiked more than 20 miles during the hunt's first two days to find a productive spot.

"The first evening in, I'd had a 6-by-6 bull within 37 yards, but I couldn't close the deal," Turley said. "I think the bull winded us. He moved off and never came back."

When other hunting parties started showing up in the area, the two West Virginians moved even farther into the rugged backcountry.

"We found a good spot, and we ended up hunting there for the next 10 days," Turley said. "Elk were bugling everywhere around us. We could hear them and we could see them, but getting them to come within bow range was another story. They'd come within 70 yards or so, but no closer."

Seven days after the hunt began, Turley got his chance.

"We hiked up to the top of a mountain before dawn and then headed off in different directions," he said. "I probably went another mile and a half. Just before sunup, I ran across a bull bugling about 100 yards away. I started calling to him, but it seemed that every time I did he'd move off in the opposite direction."

Waves of emotion washed over Jason Turley as he walked toward the fallen bull elk.

He thought of his wife, who pushed to get him hunting-ready after surgeries to his shoulder, elbow and hip. He thought of his grandfather, his hunting mentor and long-time hunting buddy. He thought of how very fortunate he'd been to find the animal he'd shot just hours before.

"I couldn't help myself. The tears just started flowing," Turley said.

Small wonder. Turley had beaten odds that, at times, seemed stacked against him.

"It hadn't been an easy year," said Turley, a 33-year-old registered nurse from Charleston. "My body had started falling apart on me."

Years and years of competitive tennis had taken a toll on him. In July 2008, he underwent arthroscopic shoulder surgery to repair a torn labrum. Six months after that, he had a torn elbow tendon repaired. Then, just four months before his scheduled September elk hunt, he had an operation to fix some torn cartilage in one of his hip sockets.

"I was in a wheelchair for two weeks, used a walker for a week, and was on crutches for two weeks after that," Turley recalled. "I had serious doubts as to whether I'd be able to do all the backpacking an elk hunt would require. My wife, Megan, pushed me to get back into shape. I did physical therapy three times a week and spent tons of time on the stair machine and the elliptical trainer at the gym."

Three weeks before his scheduled departure, Turley finally felt healthy enough to withstand the rigors of a two-week hunt in Wyoming's rugged Wind River Mountains.

"That was a relief," he said. "I had hunted in the west before - guided hunts on private lands. This hunt was a do-it-yourself hunt on public lands. I knew I'd have to be in pretty good shape to handle all the hiking that would be involved."

For the previous two years, Turley and hunting partner Brent Billups had purchased "elk points" from the Wyoming Game and Fish Department that - if they were lucky enough to have their names drawn - would allow them to purchase permits to hunt for the Rocky Mountains' signature big-game animal.

"Brent had been trying to convince me to do an unguided hunt," Turley said. "He told me a trip like that would be very rewarding. He said that on public land, 'It's not so much about the kill; it's more about the hunt.' We made a pact to save up and do the hunt together."

Twenty-eight hours after they left for the hunt, Turley and Billups pulled into the Shoshone National Forest near Dubois, Wyo., and started looking for elk.

"We drove straight through," Turley said. "I was so excited, I was behind the wheel for 25 of the 28 hours."

Billups had hunted the area before and knew the country. Even so, he and Turley hiked more than 20 miles during the hunt's first two days to find a productive spot.

"The first evening in, I'd had a 6-by-6 bull within 37 yards, but I couldn't close the deal," Turley said. "I think the bull winded us. He moved off and never came back."

When other hunting parties started showing up in the area, the two West Virginians moved even farther into the rugged backcountry.

"We found a good spot, and we ended up hunting there for the next 10 days," Turley said. "Elk were bugling everywhere around us. We could hear them and we could see them, but getting them to come within bow range was another story. They'd come within 70 yards or so, but no closer."

Seven days after the hunt began, Turley got his chance.

"We hiked up to the top of a mountain before dawn and then headed off in different directions," he said. "I probably went another mile and a half. Just before sunup, I ran across a bull bugling about 100 yards away. I started calling to him, but it seemed that every time I did he'd move off in the opposite direction."

Try as he might, Turley simply couldn't get close to the wary bull. Just 20 minutes before a scheduled 10 a.m. rendezvous with Billups, he decided to take drastic action.

"I heard the bull bugle, and I took off in a dead sprint in that direction. He called again, about 75 yards away. I held off on calling for about five minutes, and then hit my call again. The bull came running down off the hill through some aspens and pines."

Turley could see the elk's body through an opening the thick undergrowth, scarcely 15 yards away. He drew his bow and fired. The elk spun and charged off through the trees.

"The arrow hit a little back of where I'd aimed," Turley recalled. "I thought I'd made a bad shot."

He wasn't sure how long to wait before starting to track the bull, so he whipped out his cell phone and called Dan Kessel, owner of the Spring Hill Rod and Gun store in South Charleston.

"Dan told me to wait two hours and then go looking," Turley said.

Half an hour later, he hiked to his rendezvous point and found Billups. "I told him I'd shot an elk. He asked me if I'd marked where I'd made the shot. I pulled out my GPS unit to show him how I'd marked it."

To Turley's horror, he discovered the unit hadn't properly recorded the coordinates. "It showed the spot as being 4.6 miles away in a totally different direction," he said.

Turley and Billups searched the area for more than three hours to no avail. The elk seemed to have vanished.

"I went through every emotion, from anger to sadness to despair. I couldn't believe I'd messed up that badly," Turley said. "I thought about my late grandfather, Hallie Turley, who had introduced me to hunting. I felt as if I'd let him down somehow. It sounds kind of corny, but I sort of asked Papaw if he'd help me find that bull.

"I walked about 50 yards and found a speck of blood on a rock. Brent and I tracked the blood trail about 200 yards and found the bull, dead as it could be, less than 300 yards from where I'd shot it."

Turley didn't notice the bull's trophy antlers until Billups pointed them out. The 6-by-6 rack sported an inside spread of 43 inches. The antlers "green-scored" roughly 270 inches.

"It only takes 260 inches to make the Pope and Young Club record book," Turley said. "After the [required] 60-day drying period is up, I plan to have it officially scored to see if it'll make the book."

Turley said words "weren't adequate to describe" the emotions he felt when he realized what he'd accomplished.

"It was a very spiritual thing," he said. "I felt my grandfather was with me. I'd almost given up on finding that animal. From a physical and mental standpoint, that hunt was harder than anything I'd done before, even in the military.

"This is proof positive of a quote I have on my YouTube page: The kill will always die, but the hunt will live forever." 

Reach John McCoy at johnmc...@wvgazette.com or 304-348-1231.