Bambistew
Well-known member
My long-time friend (more like a big brother) from MT came up to go moose hunting this year. We haven't spent a lot of time together or hunted together in a couple decades, but we picked up right where we left off. Fun times where had, moose were chased, and stories told. We saw more moose along the road on the drive back than we did in 12 days in the mountains.
As always, I wish I would have taken more pictures and videos. Fall colors were near peak when we arrived and our short fall was about over when we left. The weather was almost too nice for moose hunting. The first couple days were pretty crappy and windy, but then it settled into normal overcast days; cold, crisp mornings.
On the first day we had a chance at a true giant bull, but after getting into position, the bull was gone when we got to his position. Easily one of the biggest live moose I've seen. I spotted him at nearly a mile, seeing just the top 1/3 of one paddle. I called to him and he moved his head and showed both paddles. they were wide, as was his spread was way over 60" We hunted that same spot for nearly a week and never saw him again. Wish I would have snapped a pic, but it was raining pretty hard and touch screens suck in the rain.
In 12 days I think we saw 7-8 moose total, and two griz, nothing else. Other groups in our area had similar sightings and less luck. On the 7th day I managed to call in a bull. I pulled him in from probably a mile or more away, and believe he was a bull I'd seen that morning, about 3 miles away from camp. After calling, raking and grunting for over an hour, he went silent. I could see pretty well, where I thought he'd come from, but it was starting to get dark and I had about a mile to get back to camp. I packed up my gear and started heading back to camp. I climbed a small way up a hill and took that one last look. There was the bull I'd called in, on the opposite side of a willow swamp about 350-375 yards away. I assumed he didn't want to come any closer due to the brush. I had an any-bull tag, so there was no pressure to judge the bull. In the low light, he didn't look like a big bull, but also didn't look small. I saw 3 big brow tines, and he looked like he was maybe 50". My partner's tag required him to shoot a bull 4 brow tines or 50+ wide. Too close to call for him, and at this point in our trip, a moose in the bag was worth a lot more than no moose, and this was really the first real chance either of us had.
I slipped in as close as I could, ranged him at 175yards, made a make-shift rest with a trekker pole, lined up the .375 behind his shoulder, and squeezed. He lunged, and swung to the left running out of site in into the thick brush. I wallowed over to where he was standing, and spent the next hour looking for blood into the dusk, and soon darkness with a headlamp. It was futile with light reflecting off every bush 2 yards in front of me, making it very difficult to see very far into the brush. I returned to camp around 10pm, not knowing what had really happened. Had I missed? I didn't see any blood, and the shot sounded like a crack, vs a whop. I didn't sleep well that night.
I returned early the next morning to find a bull of about the same size (or what I thought was the same bull) wandering around in the willows about 300 yards from where I'd shot the evening before. I thought it was maybe the same bull, but knew better than to shoot. I had already mentally punched my tag, regardless of finding him or not.
I swam into the 8-10ft high willows over to the spot I'd marked the evening before, on a slightly different line than the night before. I walked right to him, finding him about 30 yards from where he stood at the shot. He'd ran into some thickest brush and died in a depression that was about 3-4ft lower than the surrounding area. I'd walked by him at least 3x the evening before within 10-15 yards on moose trails I was sure he would have taken vs diving into the bush. I was heartbroken to think that I may be looking at 600lbs of spoiled meat that still had to be packed off the mountain to satisfy salvage requirements, not to mention the total waste of some of the best eating wild game there is.
He died lying on his chest with his back and both shoulders exposed to the cool air and not insulated by the ground. I snapped a couple pics, and pulled out the knife and started getting him opened up and cooled off.
My partner showed up about half an hour later and the work commenced. We got him bagged up and moved to the opposite side of the swamp by the afternoon. We hauled 1/4 of the meat back to the strip that evening. We had him all back to the landing strip by the following afternoon. So far I think I dodged a bullet with spoilage. A few small areas of the neck were a bit stinky, but the 95% of the rest seems good to go. A couple more hours and it would have likely been all wasted.
We hunted hard from sunrise to sunset every day, moose were just not around in any quantity. Harvest will be way off this year along with caribou, and sheep. I think the winter of 2021/2022 had a pretty devastating effect on all big game across a large portion of the state.
As always, I wish I would have taken more pictures and videos. Fall colors were near peak when we arrived and our short fall was about over when we left. The weather was almost too nice for moose hunting. The first couple days were pretty crappy and windy, but then it settled into normal overcast days; cold, crisp mornings.
On the first day we had a chance at a true giant bull, but after getting into position, the bull was gone when we got to his position. Easily one of the biggest live moose I've seen. I spotted him at nearly a mile, seeing just the top 1/3 of one paddle. I called to him and he moved his head and showed both paddles. they were wide, as was his spread was way over 60" We hunted that same spot for nearly a week and never saw him again. Wish I would have snapped a pic, but it was raining pretty hard and touch screens suck in the rain.
In 12 days I think we saw 7-8 moose total, and two griz, nothing else. Other groups in our area had similar sightings and less luck. On the 7th day I managed to call in a bull. I pulled him in from probably a mile or more away, and believe he was a bull I'd seen that morning, about 3 miles away from camp. After calling, raking and grunting for over an hour, he went silent. I could see pretty well, where I thought he'd come from, but it was starting to get dark and I had about a mile to get back to camp. I packed up my gear and started heading back to camp. I climbed a small way up a hill and took that one last look. There was the bull I'd called in, on the opposite side of a willow swamp about 350-375 yards away. I assumed he didn't want to come any closer due to the brush. I had an any-bull tag, so there was no pressure to judge the bull. In the low light, he didn't look like a big bull, but also didn't look small. I saw 3 big brow tines, and he looked like he was maybe 50". My partner's tag required him to shoot a bull 4 brow tines or 50+ wide. Too close to call for him, and at this point in our trip, a moose in the bag was worth a lot more than no moose, and this was really the first real chance either of us had.
I slipped in as close as I could, ranged him at 175yards, made a make-shift rest with a trekker pole, lined up the .375 behind his shoulder, and squeezed. He lunged, and swung to the left running out of site in into the thick brush. I wallowed over to where he was standing, and spent the next hour looking for blood into the dusk, and soon darkness with a headlamp. It was futile with light reflecting off every bush 2 yards in front of me, making it very difficult to see very far into the brush. I returned to camp around 10pm, not knowing what had really happened. Had I missed? I didn't see any blood, and the shot sounded like a crack, vs a whop. I didn't sleep well that night.
I returned early the next morning to find a bull of about the same size (or what I thought was the same bull) wandering around in the willows about 300 yards from where I'd shot the evening before. I thought it was maybe the same bull, but knew better than to shoot. I had already mentally punched my tag, regardless of finding him or not.
I swam into the 8-10ft high willows over to the spot I'd marked the evening before, on a slightly different line than the night before. I walked right to him, finding him about 30 yards from where he stood at the shot. He'd ran into some thickest brush and died in a depression that was about 3-4ft lower than the surrounding area. I'd walked by him at least 3x the evening before within 10-15 yards on moose trails I was sure he would have taken vs diving into the bush. I was heartbroken to think that I may be looking at 600lbs of spoiled meat that still had to be packed off the mountain to satisfy salvage requirements, not to mention the total waste of some of the best eating wild game there is.
He died lying on his chest with his back and both shoulders exposed to the cool air and not insulated by the ground. I snapped a couple pics, and pulled out the knife and started getting him opened up and cooled off.
My partner showed up about half an hour later and the work commenced. We got him bagged up and moved to the opposite side of the swamp by the afternoon. We hauled 1/4 of the meat back to the strip that evening. We had him all back to the landing strip by the following afternoon. So far I think I dodged a bullet with spoilage. A few small areas of the neck were a bit stinky, but the 95% of the rest seems good to go. A couple more hours and it would have likely been all wasted.
We hunted hard from sunrise to sunset every day, moose were just not around in any quantity. Harvest will be way off this year along with caribou, and sheep. I think the winter of 2021/2022 had a pretty devastating effect on all big game across a large portion of the state.
