An Elk Became Ensnared in a Climbing Rope in Colorado

Colorado elk are renowned for their deafening bugle and pointy antlers—but alas, not for their belaying skills.

On January 3, Ben Hake, the head of recreation in Lake City, Colorado received a call from two climbers at the town’s local ice park. A bull elk, they said, had become ensnared in a climbing rope and was stuck on a steep hillside.

“I couldn’t believe what they were telling me,” Hake said. “We’ve never seen elk on that trail. It’s an old deer trail but we didn’t seen see too many animals use it once the ice climbers started using it.”

But sure enough, when Hake arrived at the scene a short time later, he saw the massive elk tangled in an orange rope on an access trail to a pair of ice climbing walls called Beer Garden and Dynamite Shack. Climbers run a rope along the steep and slippery pathway and use the hand line when ascending or descending, Hake said.

A local official with the Colorado Department of Parks and Wildlife had called the regional office in Gunnison, which sent along wildlife biologists. Alyssa Meier, one of the biologists who arrived on the scene, said she was not surprised to receive a call about a stuck elk. But the details of the elk’s entanglement were strange.

“Hammocks, Christmas lights, patio furniture—it’s pretty common for males to get stuck,” she told Outside. “A climbing rope was a new one.”

Meier drove to Lake City alongside another biologist, Anna Markey, and seasonal technician Paul Rivera. A crowd of climbers and town officials had congregated below the elk by the time they arrived an hour or so later.

Meier tranquilized the elk “so they could approach the stressed animal.” They placed a balaclava over the elk’s face to protect its eyes from the sun and to calm it, and then the three cut the rope to free the elk.

But that’s when a new challenge arose—the crew had to stabilize the sedated elk, or else it would slip down the trail and tumble off of a 15-foot ledge.

“If he would have slid off the ledge, this wouldn’t be a happy story,” Markey told Outside. 

Local climbers tied their own ropes to the elk, ran the rigging over a tree, and created a hauling system. Then Hake and six others pulled on the rope to raise the elk a few inches, so that they could then attach another rope to lower it down.

“It was so heavy—there were seven of us and we were giving it everything we could just to get tension onto the elk,” he said. “I don’t know what he weighed, but he was big.”

Meier estimated the elk weighed between 650 and 800 pounds, and it had scratches on its snout and face, likely from antler jabs during the rutting season. “He wasn’t the biggest elk I’ve seen, but he was doing well,” she said.

The haul system worked, and the crew was able to safely lower the sedated elk to flat ground. Meier said she administered an antidote for the tranquilizer, and after ten minutes or so, the elk stood up and ran away.

John Livingston, a spokesman for the Colorado Parks and Wildlife department, praised the two ice climbers who initially found the elk. Rather than try and free the animal themselves, he said, they phoned several agencies until they were put in contact with Parks and Wildlife. “You’re talking about a stressed animal with sharp hooves and antlers—I appreciate them calling the proper folks to handle this,” he said.

Meier has conducted multiple rescues of elk and deer this year. What stands out about the Lake City elk, she said, was how the community worked together to save the animal. Had it fallen off the ledge, or become too stressed, it could have died.

“The community rallied around this bull elk that they wanted to set free,” she said. “It was such a nice moment when he popped up and ran off.”