Moose Hunting 2010

It has been a crazy autumn this year, that is really all I can say. Closing in on finishing up a degree, getting back from Orzinski this summer only to carry out an 800-mile trip down the Yukon from Nenana to Pilot Station in our new-found boat, and all the insanity of Sarah starting up another school year at ol' P-station... yup. Crazy. Moose season started out crazy as well, and before it was done, it would get even crazier...

Well ahead of last year's sightings, I had seen 6 moose this September before even getting out there and SERIOUSLY hunting them this go round, something that hadn't happened last year. The first moose I saw last year was the one I ended up eating. The first one I saw this year wasn't even legal:


Sarah and I actually got out with our Kifaru tent and stayed upriver for three days; a thoroughly enjoyable trip that we will remember forever. That Fall smell was in the air, the seasonal colors of Alaska were reaching their peak, and life was unerringly, untouchably good. Campfires in the evening, moose hunting followed by Trophy Northern fishing in the mornings after breakfast, more moose hunting in the afternoons, and repeat, repeat, repeat. What else is there?

Our trip (and season, for us) began with a 40 mile, 2 and 1/2 hour run up the Atcheulinguk River (That's the white-man spelling version :) ). Even though it was September, the boat ride was more than just a bit chilly:


On our way, we actually came across this Lynx, out in broad daylight, just chillin' on a log. (Ummm...this never happens. Never. Especially when you circle and circle in the boat taking pictures and video and he stays put....) Very Cool.


We finally did get to camp, only having seen one moose on the trip upriver. She was, once again, a cow, that scrambled out of the river in front of us, shook like a dog to get the water off...and was gone. It didn't take long for us to set up camp and try some Northern fishing on the nearest lake while we were on our way to spot some bulls later in the evening. Sarah came up with this monster 42-inch, 20-pounder!


There are lots of pike fishermen who never will catch up with a 20-pounder, but she's already got hers.


I, on the other hand, could only catch fish like this when in a lake with its share of trophies:


We saw no bulls the first day, but lots of sign telling us that we were in the lair of the beast:






Next day, we did see a great bull (60-inch range) at about 500 yds, but he gave us the slip while we tried to stalk him. Nonetheless, we were in some beautiful country and it was impossible not to be enjoying ourselves...






Second day brought us another bull, but again too far away for a shot. In-between our still- hunting and calling we kept busy picking blueberries and watching all the migrating waterfowl...while catching more pike of course...






Though our paths would not cross with a downed bull's on this trip...it was unforgettable. We saw tons of wildlife, the fishing was incredible, made lots of memories...and there was still two weeks of moose season left after all. Here's some more pics from the trip:

Sunrises and sets:










The beloved campfire:


Actually, with school and volleyball coaching, Sarah didn't get out and get her bull. I ended up getting out twice more after our camping adventure. On the evening of September 23rd, Robert and Jeremy and I were heading back home after a full day of chasing moose around Owl slough, when Robert caught sight of a moose leaving the water back behind us up an offshoot of the slough arm we happened to be in at the time. Upon turning around, we discovered that that one moose was actually two moose - and they were both Bulls! The first, and biggest (we're talking horn) of course melted away into the thick brush before we got in and were presented with a shot. The other bull, however, studied me a moment too long, and I sent a 180 gr. softpoint through his neck and spine, dropping him like a sack of wet cement. It was cool to see, and meant we would be eating pretty well this winter. He was just a smallish 3 x 4 bull, but those are the best type for, uhh,......sandwiches.....yummmmm......

Here is a shot of the brute shortly after his demise:


On the way home (roughly around midnight) we witnessed the Northern Lights in full swing for about an hour. What a time, riding home down the Yukon river with a bull moose in the boat and the Northern Lights over my head, rolling and twisting and glowing.....Incredible, and yet another memory from out here in Pilot Station that I will never lose....