After returning from the school camping trip to Kako last Friday (the 16th), John and I reluctantly agreed to follow Jason and Irion and Sean and Cooper along on a 'moose camp' trip for the weekend. We were both beat and had a lot on our minds for school and I was wondering if "the call" would come from Sarah while I was away. But we resolved to go. I wanted to drop the first bull I saw and fill the freezer and get rid of one more worry...
Anyway, we traveled in two boats, five adults and Cooper with all the gear, a four wheeler, and three dogs. Not your average traveling moose camp. Upon arriving at the spot where Jason and Irion had worked over the last weeks to get the camp site and trail in order, we found the river mud where we had to land was not exactly favorable.
Our beach landing itself required us to cut down some willows and build a ramp over the mud. I went in over my boots immediately upon jumping out on arrival.
Here's the four-wheeler Townsend brought, just so it could sit on the bank of the river all weekend :)
After a bit, we got everything unloaded and set up so we could pitch tents and possibly squeeze in an evening hunt. As it turned out, Jason and Irion would be sticking close to camp, and it would be the three man team of John, Sean, and Myself that would be out after the bulls.
Some pics of "Camp Fallsack", set back in the willows off the Yukon:
We did get out to hunt on Friday night, and we heard some splashing in the beaver dam the next meadow over, but never saw a thing.
Saturday morning we went out and actually heard a bull scraping brush and thrashing trees - but the sucker never showed himself, and it wasn't long after we heard a cow call that things got REALLY quiet....guess she was more interesting than us on that day...
But we hunted the afternoon and the evening on Saturday nonetheless, and though we heard enough once in awhile to keep us interested, nothing happened until the evening hunt. Around 8:20 or so, Sean looked up and said, "There's one!" I was looking to our right and said, "Where?!", to which he replied, "Right There!!". I looked out at 12 o clock and there, in the middle of the meadow, having appeared in ultimate silence, was a moose. I put the scope up and, wouldn't you know it, couldn't find a horn. I tried to GROW a horn on her for about a minute and a half, while she stood at around 60 yards staring. Finally she turned and trotted off. I stopped her with a few rasps from the gatorade bottle on the tree in front of me, but still couldn't find any bone when she gave me that last look through the scope. She made it all the way to the other end of the meadow eventually, and Sean and I thought we could see another moose follow her into the brush, but there was no confirmation of horns, and we walked back to camp at dark emptyhanded. That...was a long walk. Where did that bull go?
Sunday morning began like this: As the night wore on Saturday, I realized that Bridger and Ada were going to keep everyone up, and so I moved my sleeping bag out to where they were tied up so I could apply some 'encouragement' to not bark ALL night long. Well, at 5 am, Townsend (John) woke up and saw my bag wasn't where it should be and he thought I went on out to the meadows all by myself. So he grabbed his stuff and took off. About an hour later, me and Sean got up and had some coffee with Jason and Irion and before long began to wonder where Townsend was...
When we all put it together and Jason crawled through the tent and discovered John wasn't there, we immediately grabbed the packs and rushed out on the hike to 'the spot' where we had been calling. After a bit in the breaking light, we found the brush pile where Townsend had been waiting alone for the last two hours looking for us. After a few pats on the back and some laughter, John took out the gatorade bottle and made his first set of calls. It was a beautiful morning with heavy fog hanging over the meadow, giving an eerie feel to the grass we had looked over for so many hours in the last days. And from there the circus began. Only seconds after John scraped some brush and gave a few grunts, the largest moose I've ever seen while holding a rifle silently appeared across the meadow.
For the next 11 minutes, while the bull crossed the 400 yard meadow toward us, Townsend proceeded to call in the brute, ...I stood there in a modified state of shock and adrenaline rush, and Sean recorded the whole circus with the video camera. It was the greatest morning I've ever had moose hunting. The bull zig zagged, prolonging the whole thing, and would stop every so often and rake the nearest willows, or grass, for that matter - whatever was closest. Then another set of calls would bring him our direction again.
Here's the brute coming across the meadow toward us in a highly hostile manner....
After that scraping session above he began the final approach, and I took this shot from the movie. It has to be one of my favorite pictures, EVER.
And then he started to get close...
Here is a still taken from the movie at the exact moment the first shot was fired. The smoke at left is from the muzzle.
He bolted, and I let him have it again...
Picture taken at the third shot. That's the point of impact there where the steam is escaping...
And then he still weaved, and wobbled..
And finally went down.
Here's an edited video of the circus, as the full length 11 minute version is too huge to upload and will just be put on this fall's DVD:
Here's the "Trophy Shot" with me behind a little to exaggerate the rack. :)
And some more:
Here's the camera man and the caller:
CUT. THAT. MEAT.
Lastly, as per Alaska state law, it was time to pack out the head:
Finally it was all back at camp.
And it was time to load it into the boat and head for home...
As an after the fact addition, here are some shots of the two Remington Core-lokt 180 grains that I recovered, embedded in the hide on the far side about 2 inches apart. Weight retention passes in my book. :)
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