Update.
We went back out last Wednesday after the snow storm and tried looking for one for my dad.
Found him.
He was feeding with a group of 5 other bulls. The top left was the biggest. We watched them for over 30 minutes trying to decide if they were too far away. My dad needs double knee replacement and this time it was just the two of out hunting. We had no help. The elk were feeding on a ridge to hill sides away from us at 740 yards. Finally we decided to give it a go. I calculated the bullet drop and set up the rifle for my dad to take the shot. After the shot the bull only took a few steps, stood there for a minute then fell over. I wasn't even sure the bullet found it's mark, but it did.
I hiked the two ridge lines over to were the bull fell and found him DOA. BTW, lots of fresh bear tracks in the new snow.
This is when I realized I was all alone with a 1200 pound dead animal miles from the nearest road all by myself on a mountain populated with bear and mountain lion. At this point I backed out of there and made a few phone calls to get some help getting the bull out. It was well after dark before we got out of there so hero shots had to wait til the next day.
My 72 year old dad
Me.
My first bull was ready when we dropped off the second so I already have it home and on the wall. My son named him Skully.