Moose Hunt 2018

I had my chance twice this fall to catch a bull moose and failed to bring one home. I was so disheartened. On Saturday night, we went to camp out at the cabin upriver with hopes to go out hunting early the next day. I woke up 3 hours later than I had planned. I quickly made breakfast (sausage and eggs), ate, and got dressed. Cassidy followed suit, as she always does. Wherever mom goes, she has to follow.

We got down to the boat only to find it was high and dry. Wooldridge boats are not light so there was no way we could push it out. I was so frustrated by this time. It was 10 am. I was losing time. I thought for sure there would be no moose roaming around if I stayed and waited for someone to come upriver. So, I brought a canoe down and Cassidy got in (with her life jacket of course) and I got in next. I started paddling upriver towards the slough across from South River. I wanted to sneak up on a bull like Jimmy Cragle.

I paddled half way up to the slough then I heard movement in the water down river. I turned around and saw him. Bullwinkle was a bank below the cabin so I changed direction and quietly paddled his way. Then I hear “Amber!” Reuben is yelling from the cabin. I want to yell, “Shut up! There is a bull out here!” but I didn’t want to scare him off. I kept paddling. Then, I notice movement across the bank from the bull. It is a cow! Reuben gets down to the bank and notices the cow and shouts, “Don’t shoot. It’s a cow!” By now I’m aiming at the bull because he is staring at me. I had to take a chance or he would run in and not return. I shot three times and missed. I was baffled. I was only 150-200 yards away. What was wrong with my gun? Cassidy sat quietly in the bow of the canoe. I paddled back to the camp to tell Reuben what had happened and how he scared the bull away. Afterwards, we went back to town to re-sight my rifle.

It was the 18^th day of my moose-hunting saga. I was beginning to give up. I had 2 days left to catch a bull moose. On September 18^th, Reuben, Bing, Cassidy and I went up to Sauyaq and drove into the horseshoe. Reuben fell asleep while Bing got out of the boat and did some moose calls and rattled some trees. I didn’t think he was going to call a bull out. We sat there for maybe an hour before deciding to move further in the horseshoe. Bing parked at the end and we looked around then I noticed a dark brown spot 350 yards ahead of us in the trees. Then, another light brown spot. I grab my .270 and change the magnification to see what they were. One was a cow and the other a bull. By now, Reuben has awoken and we are all looking at the bull. Somebody makes the crazy decision that we should shoot at him. He notices us and walks further in the trees. Then two cows come out on the right. We look through our scopes to make sure one was not a bull. We are thinking, “Gee! How many moose are back there?”

We never thought the bull would come back out, but he sure did. We all get our guns ready and Bing says to us, “1-2-3 shoot!” so we do. Then we reload and shoot again. Looks like the bull is walking away. We shoot another two times and he is gone. At first we think we missed so we are fixing to leave, but I tell them we should at least go check to see if we hit him. Bing and I make the long trek over. He walks the wrong way and I redirect him to where I hear distressed breathing. Sure enough, we got him! Bing and I walk over to the bull and I do the kill shot. I am beyond happy and almost in tears. I waited so long for the day to come. We decide that we will come back in the morning to butcher and haul, knowing it will be a long day due to how far we would have to haul; plus it was getting dark.

The next morning, Bing and I went back up to butcher the moose together. It rained on us all day. My raincoat soaked through to my fleece sweater. After butchering the moose, we took the toboggan and started our first portion of the haul. Walking through tree stumps and wet grass ended up being a lot harder than I expected. Bing told me that L.A. (his brother-in-law) was going to come up and help haul in the evening. Well, it was going on 5 pm and nobody showed up. I was in despair thinking of the long evening of hauling without help. Bing kept saying, “sounds like a boat” and then nobody would appear. We were hearing things. Finally, when we got all the meat to the first stretch, L.A. and Reuben show up.

As we are hauling the meat to the boat, L.A. hears a moose and it gets close to our boat so he shoots. The bull was not going to stop for anything. He was a huge guy too. I’m so glad L.A. showed up because I don’t think my .270 would take a bull that big down. I didn’t even hear him coming. I just heard the two shots then when I got to the boat, they told me about the bull. He had a 68-inch rack! He was huge compared to my moose (41-incher). 

By the time 9 pm comes around, Bing and I are just beat and freezing from being in the rain all day. L.A. guts and quarters his moose all by himself in 45 minutes and we all take off for home. It was quite the hunting trip. Next year, I am not going to hunt like this. I hope to catch a moose near the river so we don’t have to haul so far. Since this is my first moose, I have to give it all away, which is fine because my freezer is full. 2018 has been an amazing year for me: catching caribou, travelling to Europe with my mom and Cassidy, and catching my first moose. My heart is full. Now I can relax and enjoy some football.

Moose Hunting Blues

On Saturday, I left the house at 7:20 am to go moose hunting. Initially, I wanted to go upriver but the Lund battery was not charged. I was so frustrated because I was all packed and ready. I had high hopes of seeing a bull along the river because it was early morning and everyone else would still be sleeping. I had no time to waste so I got on my Honda and drove up the road.

Along the way, I bumped into Guam and we decided to partner up to look for Bullwinkle. We drove past North River Bridge and took a right and walked a path. There were moose turds on the path, but we could not call a bull out so we left. Guam and I drove the tundra before White Alice and still no luck. After we returned to the road, we parted ways. I took off for VOR. Once I got to VOR, I drove the tundra behind Oliver Hill. There is a pond behind Oliver Hill that looks like viable moose country. I sat there a good two hours and attempted to call out a moose, but I was unsuccessful.

A slight breeze made the tree leaves bristle.  I snacked on slightly sweet and tart blueberries while I sat and waited. The tundra was covered in frost. All I heard were the sounds of boats driving up the river and the tweets of birds flying around. A spruce hen flew out of the bush and gave me a good fright. The sky was blue and there was not a cloud in sight. Blueberry leaves covered the tops of my bunny boots.

I had my moose call in hand. My throat was getting sore from trying to make my voice deeper. Calling moose is hard for a soprano. I hoped that nobody was around to hear my sad attempt to call moose. I’m sure I scared the moose away rather than called it in. I’m just glad I didn’t call in a bear. Would I shoot a bear? I would if it meant my life was on the line. Since my moose call was not working, I opened my moose call app on my phone and tried it. It also was an unsuccessful approach. 

I tend to think too much sometimes. As I sat and waited for the unlikely presence of a bull moose, I started to ponder who the first person was to eat blueberries and how they knew they were not poisonous. Then I started to wonder who made the first gun and how they knew where to shoot a moose to kill it. Then I started to think, “If I shot a moose over here, it would be such a troubling haul to bring it up the hill.” That’s when I decided I was in a bad spot for moose hunting. I left my spot and drove back home. I had to recollect my thoughts and refuel.

These are just pictures from a handful of times I went out berrypicking. Cassidy is a pretty good hunting partner. 

 

Moose hunting makes me anxious because we are given a quota. Once we get closer and closer to reaching it, you start asking around, “Who all caught?” You scroll through social media looking for moose pictures then you are relieved to only see people in other communities catching. This gives you slight hope that your time will be next. I’m still trying. Seems like some people have all the luck. They go upriver and don’t have to go far and a bull just swims across the river saying, "shoot me. shoot me." Easy kill there. All I see when I go out are darn cows. I feel as blue as the blueberries. I think we have another 10 days left and the moose are starting to move more with the colder weather. My time will come. Stay tuned…