Moose.


These creatures were made for the landscape they inhabit and they move about effortlessly in stuff that would slow most of us to the pace of a crawl. A mature bull can stand over six feet tall at the back and weigh over 1500 pounds. Their long muscular legs legs and large feet equip a highly efficient all terrain vehicle affectionately referred to as the Swamp Donkey. Despite their docile reputation they can sport quite an attitude. I’ve seen a moderately sized cow fend off a full sized brown bear and have had to run and hide from more than once from pissed of moose while stomping around local criks in the summer.



















One of the confounding things about moose is that you seem to always see them when you aren’t looking, hunting especially. More than once I’ve returned from a day of hunting where I haven’t seen an animal only to find a moose standing in my yard or driveway. The big bulls also have a way of materializing shortly after the season has ended.



Boris, one of our yard bulls. If he sprouts two more brow tines and sticks around till next year. He’ll be in the freezer.



After my first serious effort last year which ended empty handed I went back to work and the two following days I had to chase legal bulls out of the 4-wheeler trail so I could carry on. Where were you yesterday… During the general season most game management units here have antlers restrictions and a legal bull is one that is sporting either a spike, fork, antlers with a 50-inch or greater spread, or specified number of brow tines (3 or 4). In other words a legal bull in a given area would be a spike/fork/50 or 4, spike/fork/50 or three etc. Some units with more healthy populations are “any bull” areas and the last two years I’ve traveled a ways from home to hunt one of these hoping for slightly better odds.


Moose aren't the only critters wandering around in the woods here.



















I consider last season as my first real effort as it was the first year I really devoted a chunk of time to putting myself in the right place at the right time with the resources needed to pull off a successful hunt. I had two very legitimate chances, neither of which wound up panning out. Without turning either of those events into stories in their own right, the first chance was blown on day one of a four day hunt where I’d spotted two bulls just as darkness was setting in. I closed the distance but they were still too far off as the shooting light faded. Unfortunately they never showed themselves again before I had to go.












A week or two later I had a free day closer to home and we’d called in a sub-legal bull that was short a brow tine to make legal. While we were calling him another bull had responded farther down the valley and we went after him. After an hour he still wouldn’t but from a heavily vegetated ravine so I went in. He busted me at 40 yards and bolted. He was massive, I was heart broken.




To say the season ended with me still wanting one terribly is a huge understatement.


Safe, until next year.




To be continued.