I dreamed about hunting everyday during my 2 weeks of staying inside with pneumonia and like a kid who misses school and doesnt get to play out afterwards I felt pretty bummed out. I knew I was sick though and for once in my life I listened to what the doctor had to say.
My first day back to work was this past Monday and you all know that means I was free to go and look for moose finally. I was pretty excited as I left town even though I knew the big bulls were off limits. I went to an old trusty lake with several arms and grassy bays that have always been good to me over the years. Spotted smoking fresh moose tracks at a spot I call beaver crick and followed them up into the timber. We tracked the moose to a different arm of the lake so we returned to the boat and intentionally drove a mile or so past where we last seen the tracks in an attempt to get ahead of the lone moose. The next spot we left the boat to look around was promising as the tracks hadn't passed by yet. Back to the boat we went then started back to a midway point between the two spots we checked. Again no moose tracks. Theres an excellent narrow grassy lake here though and you all know how the swamp donkeys like them kind of lakes. We kind of figured the moose mustve headed far inland though and we decided to go and check a different spot with our remaining daylight. I started driving back out of the lake and I guess the way I looked at an open spot on the shore made Greg read my mind, "Looks pretty open up there" he said. That's all I needed to hear and immediately headed for shore. We walked up and after about 20 minutes of walking there were the tracks, 3 sets now. We followed quietly, constantly scanning for a patch of hide, the flicker of an ear or the sound of willows breaking but no luck. After a while we could see the point where we first spotted the tracks and just ahead of us was the end of the grassy lake. I whispered that they have to be right here in front of us. On we went slowly but surely until I spotted a young bull feeding. I spotted a nice tree that would give a solid rest and open shooting lane but just as I reached the spot the bull ran. Little disappointing but hey what can you do but come up with your next move. We waited and called, the bull would grunt and we could hear willows breaking from time to time as the day light kept fading. Then Greg said he could hear water and we knew the moose had made it to the far side of the lake on the other side of the land we were standing on. LETS GO LETS GO! back to the boat we hustled and then sped off until we figured it was time to idle. We slowly idled around the corner and there stood 3 moose across the lake, well 2 stood and one was laying down but you get my drift. Greg ranged them at a little over 400 yards and I said we can get closer as they aren't showing any signs of running....yet. We were doing just fine until the water started getting shallow. I raised the kicker a bit and the noise made the moose look our way but still they stood there and watched us.
"250" greg said but I still wanted to get a little closer. With the motor trimmed up we were doing fine again and slowly closing the gap. Then the water got too shallow even for that option. The moose were kind of on alert now and I knew if Greg went up front to grab a paddle the moose would bolt so I told him to quietly grab my pack board and push from the back of the boat. Heeheehee...we were still getting closer as greg pushed us along. Then one of the moose walked into the bush and disappeared for a minute or so before coming back out. That moose was the one I was looking at the whole time and we thought it was a big cow. "220 yards" said Greg. Hmmmm....now or never I thought. I had a rock solid rest and decided I had better do this before they either run or daylight fades. I aimed, exhaled and squeezed. The other 2 ran out into the lake as we made our way to the fallen moose.