Moose Hunting Success

Here begins an abbreviated story about my first, last, and only bull moose hunting trip in Idaho.

Zimmer and I made it to camp Sunday afternoon with no problem. Got our stuff organized and straightened out and Monday morning went on a scouting/wood gathering trip. We got to the top of Canuck Pass and glassed out our first bull in the basin! We got giddy and excited, then heard something crashing in the brush about 25 yards behind us. Soon, a cow came tearing across the road followed by a HUGE bull...the first thing we saw with him coming over the hill were antlers. He ran across the road heading for the cow. We were just grinning, thinking, "well hey, our first real day here and we already saw two bulls! This will be simple!"

Negative.


Yogi's tent


The whole shebang


All the bikes

So we finally decided to go cut some wood...I think we must have had nearly a cord of wood in camp! But it got cold up there, so a fire was pretty much always roaring. Nice to have that little bit of comfort. Not to mention Yogi's basically a master at cooking, so we ate like kings as well.


Cedar grilled salmon!

Well, finally Wednesday arrived and we could actually hunt. Everyone went out and only saw cows! Bummer. But it was also the start of cow ELK season, so there were a lot of people out and about too.

I decided to take off and do my own thing Thursday. So I drove up to the pass and glassed...finally spotting a cow down in the basin bedded down. I went in the brush after her to see if there was a bull with her, but no dice. And that brush is THICK, it makes walking and generally just getting around tough. So I tried another area further to the north and found another one of the five moose hunters headed in. We chatted for a bit and I let him do his thing there...bad idea to step on toes in that situation. Nice fellas though, I wish them luck.

Not really knowing where to go and it being the middle of the day, I made my way out of the woods, even further to the north to get some fuel in the truck. My plan was to do that, then head back up to glass the basin. But, rounding a bend in the road I saw a bull moose! I shut the truck down and headed after him. He stopped in the road and I hit my butt, leveled at him in a quartering away shot, and fired. He turned perfectly broadside and looked at me like, "WHAT?!" The second shot followed the first by a second or two and hit his spine, which dropped him. The terrible part was having to run up to him and shoot him in the back of the head.

All of a sudden, the hunt was over.


Me "smiling"


Me "smiling" again


The moose (measured 34 inches)

Now the work began. Since I was in the freaking road, I hauled out a rope and had to drag this guy to a wide spot...only 30 yards or so. My leg was bouncing on the clutch, I had that much adrenaline pumping.

Well, I was alone. Camp was an hour away. Couldn't leave the bull there and get help, so I proceeded to dress him out. Luckily I know a slick trick to doing that. Basically you can get all the pieces off of one side, flip the critter over and get all those pieces. The very last thing you do is gut it to get the tenderloins and ribs. But doing that alone is awkward work, and tricky. After three hours of sweating and talking to EVERYONE coming down the road, I loaded it all in the truck and was able to leave nothing but a spine and a gut pile. I didn't waste a scrap. The birds will have a tough time getting anything off of what was left.



Butch and I


Cleaning


My professional meat pole


The hide and game bags

I didn't know what to do with the hide, but knew I wasn't going to get the whole thing tanned...that's very expensive. And, taking an animal apart like I did doesn't really allow for removing it like you normally do. That's why it looks like it does.


Drying game bags


The crew at camp. Zimmer, Yogi, Butch (left to right)


Heading out with a full load


The caravan

Now, there are other stories and other things happened but I'm not going into that now. Zimmer didn't run into a bull that week, so he and Butch are headed back up this coming weekend. I took today off and spent the full day getting checked by the Fish and Game (mandatory), organizing for carving the quarters up, and cleaning clothes and gear. There is a lot that goes into hunting, more than one would imagine.

But you can probably notice my tone through all of this.

Somber.

Sad.

I do NOT road hunt. And chancing into this bull on the road was definitely a gift. But it's almost disappointing. I've nearly cried numerous times, but never opened up and let it out. To kill a creature this massive is indescribable. But you take away the chase, the tracking, the leg-work, and basically you are just out there shooting a beautiful creature that is just in the wrong place at that exact moment. And when you shoot it (hitting both lungs I might add) and all it does is turn to look at you...well, it's amazing. And now I have that memory cemented in my brain along with the look in his eyes when I finished him off. It wasn't a look of fear; but it was a definite look that I cannot describe.

I was quoted telling Butch late one night, "I would give it back if I could." But then I have to remind myself that it was a gift, and quite a gift indeed.