exophysical
Member
- Location
- Slave Lake AB
I ended last year's hunt with the realisation that I needed to start looking for a partner again. Although the solo canoe hunts had been very rewarding sometimes the work load was great enough that I wasn't even enjoying the trip. Another benefit to having a partner is that when a hunt is not going well both parties are usually to proud to admit they've had enough, where as one hunter on their own will be prone to packing it in a few days early if he starts to lose hope. I couldn't find anyone locally that wanted to do a canoe hunt so I had to use an online forum. Here's Mike, he was a new hunter looking for a partner and despite living 6 hours drive away, and shooting and butchering a cow moose a few weeks before the trip he still made it to my surprize. I've had way more guys back out of these hunts than have ever made it, and Mike had every good reason in the book to not come.
Since it took me 4 years to draw this tag I was determined that if we didn't get one this year it wouldn't be for lack of trying, the first section of river went through some mixed swamps and ridges that we hunted aggressively, hiking back into places way farther than I usually am willing to pack a moose out of.
The woods were tinder dry and any still hunting had to be done in the morning when there was some dew on the ground, we found some excellent sign and even saw a moose, but in the thick timber we couldn't get a clear shot. The weather was uncommonly warm and game activity was only happening at first and last light We spent the evenings trying to call moose out to the river bank.
We decided to hunt one more spot and then head downriver into a large burn, I knew there were moose in the burn but it was too thick to hunt. Once we got down there our options were limited to calling from a few existing trails, the last spot we would hunt before the burn was an Island and the minute we saw it we knew it was going to be good. It had good habitat on both sides of the river and shallow bars of each side, tracks on the island indicated that it was heavily used as a crossing point by moose. It was also a popular camping spot for jet boaters but at the moment it seemed to be quiet.
After making camp on the island and a failed attempt at hiking up a drainage where we succeeded only in making massive amounts of noise we hatched a plan, Mike and myself would walk around the island each on an opposing side, every 15 minuets I would do a cow calling sequence and he would answer with some bull grunts. It took about a hour to walk around the island, I saw a cow moose come out and feed on a point downriver of us. I though I could hear some grunts and watched her a long time to see if a bull would join her but nothing happened, after two laps we stopped to make some supper. It was while we were eating supper that we started to hear a bull grunting. We could tell he was super aggressive as he grunted constantly, I though that he might not make it to us before nightfall so we didn't call back at him, hoping he might remain in the area over night and we could call him in in the morning.
Partway through dinner we heard a tremendous crash! The bull was crossing the river and headed right at us, still aggressive as I've ever seen, he was a small bull and after waiting so long to draw the tag I had a few misgivings about shooting him rather than trying for a bigger one, unfortunately he was coming right into camp and we didn't have much choice. I put down my plate of macaroni, grabbed my rifle and chambered a round, I told Mike that if the moose turned back I wouldn't shoot but if he got onto the bank, a mere 15 yards away I would shoot him. I moved to the side and as the moose stepped onto the bank in the fading light I gave him two shots in the lungs. Immediately he turned around and staggered back into the river, I knew he was dead on his feet but I didn't want him going any further into the river. I gave him the last two shots in my rifle, at this point just trying to break bones and stop him. There he stood for a few long minuets and then toppled over, he kicked and then stopped... and here starts an adventure I don't EVER want to repeat.
When the moose fell he started drifting downriver, I ran over to the canoe and untied the bowline then emptied my pockets. I watched the moose for a few seconds and screwed up my courage, I had a run in with a mostly dead moose that "came back to life" in 06, this time I was going to be getting closer, without my rifle, in the water... my chances would not be good if the same thing happened. I waded out into the river up to my chest, his head was under water but his nose was sticking up, was he holding it out of the water or was that just how he was floating? I reached for the antlers and as I grabbed them I felt the smallest of twitches and took a few steps back, trying to stay cool. Finally I just did it, grabbed the antlers and looped the rope around them, then started dragging the moose back to shore. Back at shore Mike held his hand up to give me a high five and I just grunted and shook my head, this was the sloppiest kill I think I've ever made, everything felt so crazy and out of control I had conflicting feelings about the whole thing at that point. Somehow in all the excitement I already had a quarter mostly taken off by the time Mike reminded me that we hadn't taken any pictures, here's a picture of the moose in the canoe the next day, sorry.
The next day was never ending, we paddled 9 hours to get to the take out, packed all the gear and moose up a steep bank to the truck, then drove 3 hours to collect the other truck and go to my house. Even though I did the shooting I gave Mike the rack which seemed to make him pretty happy, heck he earned it. I figured he might have had enough of canoe hunting, this was a pretty hard trip, but the next day he was already talking about doing another one next year. Looks like I've got a new partner!
Since it took me 4 years to draw this tag I was determined that if we didn't get one this year it wouldn't be for lack of trying, the first section of river went through some mixed swamps and ridges that we hunted aggressively, hiking back into places way farther than I usually am willing to pack a moose out of.
The woods were tinder dry and any still hunting had to be done in the morning when there was some dew on the ground, we found some excellent sign and even saw a moose, but in the thick timber we couldn't get a clear shot. The weather was uncommonly warm and game activity was only happening at first and last light We spent the evenings trying to call moose out to the river bank.
We decided to hunt one more spot and then head downriver into a large burn, I knew there were moose in the burn but it was too thick to hunt. Once we got down there our options were limited to calling from a few existing trails, the last spot we would hunt before the burn was an Island and the minute we saw it we knew it was going to be good. It had good habitat on both sides of the river and shallow bars of each side, tracks on the island indicated that it was heavily used as a crossing point by moose. It was also a popular camping spot for jet boaters but at the moment it seemed to be quiet.
After making camp on the island and a failed attempt at hiking up a drainage where we succeeded only in making massive amounts of noise we hatched a plan, Mike and myself would walk around the island each on an opposing side, every 15 minuets I would do a cow calling sequence and he would answer with some bull grunts. It took about a hour to walk around the island, I saw a cow moose come out and feed on a point downriver of us. I though I could hear some grunts and watched her a long time to see if a bull would join her but nothing happened, after two laps we stopped to make some supper. It was while we were eating supper that we started to hear a bull grunting. We could tell he was super aggressive as he grunted constantly, I though that he might not make it to us before nightfall so we didn't call back at him, hoping he might remain in the area over night and we could call him in in the morning.
Partway through dinner we heard a tremendous crash! The bull was crossing the river and headed right at us, still aggressive as I've ever seen, he was a small bull and after waiting so long to draw the tag I had a few misgivings about shooting him rather than trying for a bigger one, unfortunately he was coming right into camp and we didn't have much choice. I put down my plate of macaroni, grabbed my rifle and chambered a round, I told Mike that if the moose turned back I wouldn't shoot but if he got onto the bank, a mere 15 yards away I would shoot him. I moved to the side and as the moose stepped onto the bank in the fading light I gave him two shots in the lungs. Immediately he turned around and staggered back into the river, I knew he was dead on his feet but I didn't want him going any further into the river. I gave him the last two shots in my rifle, at this point just trying to break bones and stop him. There he stood for a few long minuets and then toppled over, he kicked and then stopped... and here starts an adventure I don't EVER want to repeat.
When the moose fell he started drifting downriver, I ran over to the canoe and untied the bowline then emptied my pockets. I watched the moose for a few seconds and screwed up my courage, I had a run in with a mostly dead moose that "came back to life" in 06, this time I was going to be getting closer, without my rifle, in the water... my chances would not be good if the same thing happened. I waded out into the river up to my chest, his head was under water but his nose was sticking up, was he holding it out of the water or was that just how he was floating? I reached for the antlers and as I grabbed them I felt the smallest of twitches and took a few steps back, trying to stay cool. Finally I just did it, grabbed the antlers and looped the rope around them, then started dragging the moose back to shore. Back at shore Mike held his hand up to give me a high five and I just grunted and shook my head, this was the sloppiest kill I think I've ever made, everything felt so crazy and out of control I had conflicting feelings about the whole thing at that point. Somehow in all the excitement I already had a quarter mostly taken off by the time Mike reminded me that we hadn't taken any pictures, here's a picture of the moose in the canoe the next day, sorry.
The next day was never ending, we paddled 9 hours to get to the take out, packed all the gear and moose up a steep bank to the truck, then drove 3 hours to collect the other truck and go to my house. Even though I did the shooting I gave Mike the rack which seemed to make him pretty happy, heck he earned it. I figured he might have had enough of canoe hunting, this was a pretty hard trip, but the next day he was already talking about doing another one next year. Looks like I've got a new partner!
