Droptine - An Amazing Bull Elk
Droptine is Famous for His Distinctive Drop Tine
There have been several bull elk elevated to name status in RMNP. Many have dominated the rut in Moraine Park during the fall season. Years ago, Sampson was famous for his visits to the YMCA of the Rockies. Kahuna was the King of Moraine. Altas is dynamic in his bugle and recognizable “split 5” antlers. And Droptine is famous for his distinctive, yes, drop tine. It's that curved tine on his left antler that drops down instead of up.
This unique feature has been evident each year as Droptine’s antlers have regrown and grown bigger each year. The close replication from year to year indicates a genetic component impacting the length and shape of the antlers. It is a feature that has allowed identification of the elk from year to year.
Droptine’s unique antler feature is so distinctive, he has actually earned two names. While predominantly he is Droptine, it is not unusual to hear him called Kickstand. Somewhere along the way a photographer must have looked at the antler, flashed back to their younger years, and thought of their childhood transportation. Both names fit quite well.
Over the past couple of years, I have taken literally thousands of images of Droptine. I find him both dynamic and accommodating. Oftentimes, he has worked his significant harem near the road. He is a diligent and determined bull elk, moving around the cows of his harem, circling to bring them back together, and bugling in a powerful announcement of his intentions.
At times, Droptine will get agitated, his hormones raging. He will scrape his antlers deep into the grass rubbing against the ground. Activating his glands to secrete his scent, he marks his territory letting others know his dominance. Then he will lift his head, dry grass caught in his antlers like a crown on a king, and he will move about as if blessed with royal power.
Droptine tended to hang near the drive in Moraine Park. While it is great for photographers, it is also precarious. I remember one particular morning, he kept working his cows back and forth. He would push them closer to the throng of wildlife photographers standing on the road..
Periodically, photographers caught up in the moment of capturing amazing elk images did not realize the growing uncertainty of their situation. Capturing images of Droptine, they would lower their camera from focusing on the dynamic bull elk. That is when they would realize the cow elk were edging toward the safety zone. At that point, like the elk being herded, the photographers would move in a wave away from the elk giving them a respectful and safe space.
The Battle Was Not Long
One morning, as Droptine worked, another bull elk snuck in from the opposite side of the meadow. You could almost hear the exasperation in his snort as Droptine began his trot toward the intruder, head down, antlers back. For a moment they faced off. Antler to antler, they interlocked, each pushing, each determined. The battle was not long as it was evident in size and power that Droptine was the dominant elk.
Soon, the challenger surrendered, deciding on his own self preservation. Droptine watched as the defeated elk turned toward the meadow. Successful, Droptine turned his head slight, lifting his nose to a curl. The sound began low before quickly erupting into a powerful, high pitched scream echo across the meadow. Then the bugle calmed into a vocalized glunking of low tones one after the other.
When Droptine stopped, he scanned his harem, raising his head in triumph. His antlers reached beyond the middle of his back showing the impressive twist of his back tines and the kickstand. Beautiful antlers, symmetrical and perfectly mirror with the exception of one dangling tine hanging like the twist of hair on Elvis’ forehead.
Then he was off again, corralling the females. Sometimes patient, at times prancing along, and often moving fast as he pushed the females back together. He was working constantly, sweat dripping from his body, silva from his mouth, his throat bobbing as he panted.
That is when he would find a hint of shade. He had fought off the competition, chased away the lesser bulls. Droptine had maintained his harem, and they too were tired from a morning of moving as they fed. He had survived the challenges of the morning, and now was the time to rest, waiting for his strength to return, for breeding to happen, and to confront new challenges.
With that, my camera would lower to my side. I would stand for a moment appreciating Droptine’s power and determination. He would rest for round two, inevitable as the evening approached. It was then, after a nap of my own, I would return with my camera to honor him with images captured.
