Caitlin Tan

That's where some of the pressures were concentrated.

The town square in Jackson Hole, Wyoming, is buzzing.

Today, it's the world's largest annual auction for elk antlers.

Local kids parade antlers out that are twice their size.

This is the flashy public-facing event of the weekend.

A lot of tourists buying a piece of the West for their living room mantle.

But off on the side streets, there's an informal parking lot economy of sorts.

Lots of Carhartt jackets and camo ball caps and antlers clanking.

Mike Bosworth is dragging heaping piles of antlers from his old truck bed.

Wait, and I was just reading your sweatshirt.

Antler addicts?

Every spring, Bosworth scours mountain foothills and forests of his home in Oregon looking for antlers.

Like a 12 miles a day type of hunt.

But this year he's hiking farther for antlers.

A little context on elk migration.

They go wherever there's the least snow.

They need grass to eat.

And normally when they shed their antlers, they're still in low-lying, easy-to-hike places.

But with such little snow in the West this year, a lot of the elk and their antlers were deep in the mountains.

So Bosworth is cashing in to make his hobby worth it this year.