Well, these pages have outlined a lot of moose hunts...but I never had a moose hunt go quite as perfectly as this Fall's hunt did. The closest it has ever come to this year's tale was the 2013 bull I took while hunting with Sarah's dad in 7-mile slough, (click here - and that post will open in another window) but even that one was after weeks of hunting HARD through, ice, snow, heavy winds and waves on the Yukon, etc...so that one 'smooth' trip that year really didn't play out the same way, after all. This year's trip was the first outing for moose since we got here (after taking last year off from hunting them), and technically, it was just a scouting trip. That would change, however...
Our day started off in the morning around 8:30 AM last Saturday - A little later than I am used to setting out during moose season. In fact, as Cam and I pulled out of the bay, my mind was on spotting a bear on shore as we traveled up to the river we planned to hunt, as I had already kind of written off the trip as a scouting adventure, that we could maybe spruce up a bit with a black bear encounter...seeing as they are traveling the lake shores in search of the sockeye salmon that are gathering up in crazy numbers around the creek and river mouths these days. We never did see any bears, however, and we soon found ourselves at the mouth of the river.
We figured we’d head up as far as we
could go, and mark important stuff on the GPS - sandbars that would make good
potential camps, meadows with good sign, etc. - that way we’d have a plan of
action for September. We spent much of the morning heading up river, hiking in
to meadows we scouted on google earth and trying to learn the braids and
channels as we went. When we finally grounded out (hard), we turned around, and
began the trip back down. We quickly learned that the shoe on the jet was bent,
and after removing a lot of rocks, and getting underway again, deduced that we
had ground the impeller a bit, which was causing some lost water compression
and reduced throttle. Oh well, we figured at the time, no biggie. We continued
to stop at likely spots and explore the area. The morning went much like this. Pulling off on sandbars, heading into meadows to look for sign - and some general exploring of this incredibly scenic area.
After coming back downriver about 8 miles, we rounded a sharp bend and my eye caught on the partially blocked body of a moose, a ways down river, maybe 125-150 yards away. As the bull turned his head and began moving along the water’s edge, I noticed he was still fully in velvet, and the paddles looked black as coal in the light. Even though that made them blend in with the shadows of the trees behind him, I instantly could see that this was not a bull I’d pass up. My safety was off before I even motioned to my partner, who was driving. We closed the gap as he tried to find the bull using my hand signals, and once he locked on it, I saw recognition come over his face, and he set to work getting us over to the beach. As the waves of our wake began hitting the sandbar and the boat itself, the noise caught the bull’s attention, and his head swiveled quickly to focus on the sound. It was too late, though, as I had bailed and was already squeezing the trigger as he seemed to realize he was looking up river at something that shouldn’t be there. At the crack of the rifle, the bull pulled that maneuver we all love to see – he reared up onto his hind legs, hunching his back and pointing both front legs straight out at the ground. Just like that, he was off into the willows. We tied up and followed his fresh tracks through a tunnel of brush, but saw no blood for about 20 yards. Then, we looked to our right and there, just on the other side of some willows, (like as in about 6 or 7 yards away, larger than life) he was stumbling away. Unable to get a shot other than the Texas heart shot variety from where we were standing, we both split up and fanned out. When the bull emerged from the other side and started across the sandbar, I couldn’t see him, but Cam did, and put the coup de grace on him. When we walked up and watched his last kicks, I realized I was staring at the boat (up and just right of the bull in the pic below), and couldn’t help but smile at the pack we wouldn’t have to endure this time around:
Cam, just as the moose hunting's "What just happened?!" set in... :)
The beautiful color that lung blood brings:
Cam and the mighty bull.
The most scenic bull moose headshot I've ever been in (at least until a few minutes later, anyway)
A 30-pound backstrap!! The original organic, harvested the right way - doing it yourself.
Some cool color variation in his velvet. Normal? Don't know, never shot a bull in velvet before this one...
Epic horn shot, part 1...wowza....
And some more epic-ness...
You have to love it when you're so close to the boat that you don't even bother strapping the meat onto the frame pack...
and the "Back at the boat" shot... :)
And this next photo just speaks to me. Right down to the bugs caught in the frame. It is precisely images like this that keep a hunter awake the night before, get him out of bed early, keep him out long after dark, and burn into his memory forever. This just might be my favorite moose hunting picture yet. What a day...
Some more cool velvet shots...
Home safe and sound. :)
Now for the processing...so we can get out there and get a sheep....
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