Well, we're back from the moose hunt. And what a hunt it was. Three of us left last Thursday with a bull tag and high hopes of calling one in within bow range.
We made good time on the trip up and arrived 21 hours later, north west of Thunder Bay. We unloaded the truck and loaded up the four wheeler and began to haul everything in to an area we were going to set up camp. We were done by Friday night and prepared for the morning.
We took 2 canoes and paddled the 3 km's to the end of the lake scouting along the way for sign. I went alone and at the very end of the lake I found a grassy marsh. After a scout around on a point, I found a bull scrape.
I picked my tree and began cutting branches and shooting lanes, planning on the placement of the decoy my little boys had helped me paint.
We met back up and paddled back to camp and talked things over. I made up my birch bark call and headed back down that night. Saturday and Sunday went without incident. Monday was to be different.
I got to the stand as usual just before dark and began my calling. I repeated this 3 more times over the next hour, then I heard it to my left. A tree was being thrashed. I used my call and thrashed back. This was enough to rile him up big time. He started smashing and trashing the place just out of sight. My heart pounded and breathing deepened.
I forced myself to focus and drew back a practice aim to check clearance to the limbs and to set myself ready for a shot. I let back down and waited. He stopped his thrashing and started down the side of the marsh towards the decoy grunting all the way with a slow and steady gait swaying his head side to side. As he stepped into my shooting lane, I drew. His front leg was back and covering his chest. I held and waited for him to swing his leg forward. The moment he did, I released the arrow. It went straight, well as an arrow, and buried up to the fletch. He turned and bolted across the creek. I let out a big grunt. As soon as I did, he stopped, turned back towards me and fell to the ground. It was over in seconds.
I held tight to the branches as a wave of adrenalin went through me and stood there in shock. I climbed down and went over. He never flinched and I gratefully accepted such a trophy.
The work began and we quartered him up and took him out by canoe back to the trail leading up to camp. We loaded the four wheeler at the lake and took him up to camp.
I think there might have been a toast or two that night. As the weather was hot (22 degrees) we decided to drive him to Thunder Bay to Bay Quality Meats on 282 Bay St, Thunder Bay, (807) 344-9501. They cut him up and froze him for pick-up on Friday.
We used the rest of the week to do some fishing and shoot a few grouse. We did a little bear baiting, but never got one to come in. Friday we packed things up, drove back down to the butcher, threw the meat in coolers with dry ice from Praxair and away we went.
I took the rack to Caroline Gray to get a european mount done. His rack measured just over 63" and he weighed 607 pounds of hanging meat. I used a PSE compound with G5 Striker braoadheads on aluminum shafts.
Now I have to rest up and get ready to go back to work. We're already planning next year's hunt...
Simply an amazing adventure.
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