For FishingMagician.com, I'm Eric Granstrom. It was our final day. Dad and I had spent the previous three days hunting really hard, trying to fill his cow elk tag. But after seeing 84 elk on the final day of the bull season, we couldn't buy a sniff of an elk since. So here we were, nudging my GMC Sierra up a nasty, washed-out road, rising through the darkened fog into elk country once again. We paused at a point, waiting for daylight and an odd stillness filled the cabin of my truck. I could sense he was on edge. I made a joke and he passed gas and the tension was replaced by rolling down windows so we could breath. I could tell Dad was feeling that this could be his last day hunting. Not just this hunt, but all hunts. The demands of his time to help Mom were weighing heavily on him and this time I wanted to soak as long as possible. Light came dragging in the foggy, gray sky. The stillness was broken by the yipping of coyotes gathered upon a fresh kill. I'll have more on our final day next time. Until then, Good Fishing!