For two years, hikers and locals in Colorado caught glimpses of an almost mythical sight: a young bull elk, strong and proud, yet burdened with something no wild creature should ever carry—a car tire around his neck. It wasn’t just a nuisance. It was heavy, dangerous, and a haunting reminder of how human waste can tangle with wilderness.
Wildlife officers had tried again and again to rescue him. Each time they got close, the bull slipped back into the forest. For years, the elk grew, his antlers spreading into a ten-point crown, his body pushing past 600 pounds—yet still, the black rubber ring clung to him like a curse.
Last Saturday, everything changed. Officers Dawson Swanson and Scott Murdoch finally got their chance. A resident spotted the elk and called it in. By evening, the officers moved in carefully, knowing this wasn’t just another animal in trouble—this was a powerful four-year-old bull who’d survived predators, winters, and two years with a steel-reinforced collar strangling his freedom.
Tranquilizing him was only the beginning. When they knelt beside the great elk, they realized the tire was wedged tightly, filled with nearly ten pounds of debris—pine needles, dirt, sticks, even rocks. Every season had added to its weight. Removing it wasn’t simple. They had to make a choice: cut away one antler to slide the tire off.
With a swift cut, one antler dropped to the ground. Slowly, carefully, the officers worked the tire free. At last, the bull was unburdened. Beneath it, his fur was rubbed raw, and there were a few scrapes, but against all odds, he was healthy. Strong. Ready to rejoin the herd without the weight of human carelessness dragging him down.
As the elk disappeared into the Colorado wilderness, lighter and freer than he’d been in years, the moment was more than just a rescue—it was a reminder. A reminder that what we leave behind—trash, tires, metal—doesn’t just vanish. It waits. And sometimes, it wraps itself around the wild.
But it was also proof of patience and persistence. For two years, officers refused to give up. And in the end, their care gave one elk his freedom back.
The mountains are quieter now. Somewhere in the Colorado high country, a bull elk walks unburdened, no longer a symbol of entrapment—but of survival.
🦌 #elk #wildlife #conservation
