Tick, tick, tick the sound of the deafening silence had been broken by the fallen leaves crushing under the hooves of the elk. As the sound grew closer, I slowly, quietly, ever so quietly raised my Winchester to take aim at the magnificent animal. My pulse quickened thinking of the scrumptious meals I would feast upon during the long winter months in the Rocky Mountains. When the silhouette appeared, I slowly squeezed the trigger, and with a loud crack from the rifle, the enormous cow fell in her tracks. I immediately began the process necessary to obtain the meat from the animal.

I first cut both of her jugular veins so that she would "bleed out" which produces a better tasting meat. The best method I have found for maximizing the return on the amount of time I spend cleaning the animal is to "quarter it out" since...