Moose Report - Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Over my short hunting career, I’ve found that this is the biggest question when I’m out in the field. In the end, it probably doesn’t matter, but I find myself always second guessing myself during a trip… particularly when I am unsuccessful. My first encounter with a deer, when I had a rifle and legal tag to shoot it, was after I decided to hunker down in some tall willows close to a well beaten trail. My first kill came after deciding to leave a well travelled area and attempt to cover as much ground as possible for a spot-and-stalk. In essence, it’s probably 50/50, but at the time, ‘bad’ decisions seem to haunt me.

This was no different during our moose hunt this past fall.

I gave a brief overview of the area in an earlier post, so I’ll skip that, but below is the area we covered in the first day. About 0.5 km to portage to the river and then about 5 km of lining upstream to our eventual campsite. We wanted to get a bit further, but it’s along way up there.

There was three of us on the trip; Scott, Amy and myself. Alana was supposed to come along, but she fell ill a couple of days before heading out and we didn’t have enough time to round up a fourth. We had two canoes, two guns and a shit ton of gear. We left the day before the season opened in order to avoid the craziness on the roads and so that we could hunt first thing on opening day. As an aside, I have heard nothing but poor reports in the area about moose. Some may be stories to discourage people from going out, but I think most of it was genuine. Many groups have been unsuccessful this year and many attribute it to the wet, but ‘warm’ fall we’ve had (ie lot’s of precip, but not a ton of snow lower down in the valley).

So, we were pretty optimistic when after about 45 minutes of being on the river, we saw our first moose. Two small bulls. We were about 50 yards away and they stood there broadside for a few minutes before moving on. This seemed like our second good omen of the day. The first was me cutting my finger (pretty deep, I might add) while cutting bread for lunch in the morning. Apparently not a large enough sacrifice. Is this bringing back memories Dustin?

We did notice some sign the rest of the day, but our big excitement happened at about 5pm when we took a peak into a small pond/meadow. Yes, more moose. Two cows and a GIANT bull. It was huge. Probably one of the biggest I’ve seen in person. If you go back to the video that Oliver posted about cow calling and watch to the end, he was probably on par, if not a touch larger than that guy. Good thing we left a day early… fuck.

Understandably, we didn’t want to camp too close to that spot, so we lined up for another 30-40 minutes and got camp set up. It was a decent spot with some large spruce to hang a tarp from and a good spot to land the canoes. We went to bed pretty optimistic, considering we just saw 5 moose (3 of them bulls) in our first afternoon. Funny how quickly life can change…

We got up for shooting light the next morning and headed back to the pond/meadow with the big bull. Nothing stirring and we sat and called for a couple of hours before moving downstream to scout out the rest of the river. I’ve noted what we found in the map below. The moose did seem to be traveling along the river (although not really ON the river), but they would cut corners where they could. There were a few small river banks that we could climb up to get some better views of the habitat. It was mainly coniferous forest, with patches of mixed deciduous or tall shrub (mainly alder, but willows too). They seemed to be traveling through those mixed patches. I’ve marked trails with red lines.

Given that the moose we saw the previous day were in or close to marshes/ponds/meadows, we decided to check out and set up at one of the larger meadows about 200 metres from the river in the afternoon. There were tracks in the area, but it didn’t seem as ‘moosey’ as the spot we saw the big bull. We set up anyway, me at the bottom edge of the larger meadow with Scott and Amy at the upper right edge. With about an hour to go before sunset, I decided to call; every twenty minutes or so. Just before sunset, I heard a shot. It sounded pretty distant, but we were relatively far apart. We didn’t have radios at this point (kind of forgot them at camp). I waited for about 10 minutes. Was that Scott’s shot? This was his first time having a rifle on a hunt, so I knew he wasn’t as comfortable about the details after he shot something. Either way, he would need help, but I didn’t want to spook anything in case it wasn’t his shot. Hmm… should I stay or should I go?

I decided to go and instead of going through the loud woods, I booked it through the meadow. I must state that it was pretty wet out there. We’ve had a lot of rain this summer and fall and the wetlands and meadows were pretty saturated at this point. I hunted the entire trip in chestwaders, even when I wasn’t travelling along the river. It was pretty wet. At any rate, at some point I was following this set of moose tracks as I made my way towards to Scott and Amy and all of a sudden… whompf. I found myself waist deep in water/muck and my one leg was completely stuck. I had to put my arm down to brace myself and the barrel of my gun got slightly submerged. I had to plant my second foot for balance and as soon as I did, it was stuck too. You guys ever seen Indiana Jones? With the quicksand? Or what about the Simpsons, when Homer gets stuck and he tries to free his arms and legs with his face? Yeah. That was me.

I struggled for quite some time with the water just inches away from spilling over into my chestwaders. Remember, I thought they had maybe shot something, so I thought they would be busy with a dead or dying moose. I did eventually call out for help and I did eventually free myself before Scott had to reach out with a large tree branch. The shot indeed was from another group, probably out by the road. Answer? Should have stayed.

They told me later that they saw me heading towards them and then they thought I had suddenly decided to sit back down. Maybe I had seen a moose or something. However, when they looked closer and I was rocking back and forth, they knew something was up. Amy even thought my black backpack was a black bear attacking me and I was trying to shrug it off!

On day 2 of actually hunting we awoke to an inch or two of snow on the ground and a fresh set of moose tracks going right through camp. I had heard a crash that night thinking that our food had come down, but indeed it was a moose. Again, we were feeling pretty optimistic and we decided to scout upstream. The second logjam was pretty brutal with no clear trail to portage the canoe, it was also pissing wet snow all morning, so we decided to scout the area around the logjam. Other than a fisher, we didn’t see too much fresh sign in the snow. I followed a set for a little ways, but we abandoned the trail to head back downstream.

After a lengthy lunch, we decided to check out the set of trails behind camp. It was that mixed, disturbed type forest and there didn’t appear to be any fresh sign, so we split up in the hopes of waking some bedded moose. As I was approaching the edge of the river, I heard a giant crash and it sounded like it was coming right for me. I quickly got one in the chamber and took the safety off. I heard something running through the river and then there was nothing. Scott and Amy appeared from the opposite direction and I signaled that I was going to check out where the noise came from. I didn’t find much and caught up with Scott and Amy. Apparently they had spooked a bull and it started running right towards me before they lost sight of it. After a more thorough search of the river we found where the bull had crossed the river before and after the encounter. It was far from a good chance, but it was some excitement at least.

We continued downstream and spent some time close to the lower logjam, where I found some fresh sign but no moose, before heading back up to camp just after last light. We figured trying to cover ground was our best option, particularly since it was so cold and sitting would have been a drag given the cold, wet snow.

That night we awoke to more wildlife. Something was moving towards our tents and it was breathing loudly. I listened as the beast moved closer to only hear it crash and run off towards the river again. I wasn’t sure what it was, but Scott found the tracks of a black bear sow and cubs that stopped 5 metres from our tents. We had obviously chosen a busy area to camp.

I decided to sit in the meadows again that morning, while Scott and Amy headed upstream past the logjam. It rained/snowed the whole morning and I regretted my decision. I don’t think I would have been able to shoot anything even if I had seen something, I was shaking so much. On the other hand, Scott and Amy almost had another chance at a moose! They cow called every half-hour or so once they got past the logjam and on their way back they turned a bend in the river and about 20 yards away there was a large bull moose. However, it took off before Scott could shoulder his rifle. They followed the tracks for a ways, but figured it was long gone. We went back up to the area that afternoon and found fresh tracks further up from where they had spooked the bull. After some still hunting, we set up for some evening calling again, but no luck. I did find some somewhat fresh moose beds and browse in an old avalanche shoot, but no real fresh tracks.

Throughout the whole trip, we had been seeing lot’s of bald eagles but we could figure out what they were doing up here. It turns out that section of the river was where the coho were spawning. It also explained the amount of bear activity we were encountering (Scott and Amy spooked a grizzly with one of his cow calls that morning).

That was the end of our trip. We paddled/lined out to our put in the next day, hunting as we went. We didn’t see any moose, but we found the most amount of sign we had seen during our four days. There was plenty of tracks, shit and browse just metres from our put in. I found a fresh rub too. We hunted for a couple of hours and attempted to call in those two small bulls, but to no avail. It was good to check it out for next year though. We thought the area would see higher pressure due to its proximity to the road, but perhaps it’s just far enough to ward off the majority of hunters.

Although the hunt wasn’t successful, it was a pretty great trip. A beauty of a location, some excitement and definitely lot’s of moose + sign. We didn’t see anyone else up there, nor much sign of it being used by anyone.

A few lessons I learned during the trip

• · Bring a gun cleaning kit on a trip. I’ve never had to deal with so much rain/snow on a hunt and my gun paid the price. After a day of hunting, there was obvious rust marks on the barrel and even after I wiped it down at night with a hankie, it still had some damage. A proper kit would have definitely helped getting some of the sludge out of the gun after I dipped the barrel into the marsh on the second day. It took me a good chunk of an afternoon to clean all of this off. However, there are spots where the blueing has come off the barrel as well. Lesson learned.

• · Don’t leave food in your jacket when you take it off. We had an extremely aggressive mouse at our campsite. I put down my rain jacket for less than an hour and it had chewed a hole into it in an attempt to get to a granola bar that was in one of the pockets. Bastard! Having said that, we did kill something on the trip… Scott got the better of that mouse later in the night.

• · Neoprene gloves. They would have kept me warmer than what I had with me. I had a pair, but I left them at home.

I’m not sure what I learned about moose hunting. We tried a few techniques. One was to sit in an area where we thought there would be moose and the other was to try and cover as much ground as possible in order to run into one by chance. Neither seemed to work, so I’m left with the age old question once again… should I stay or should I go?

Given the information I laid out, what would you guys have done? I’d be interested to hear opinions/experiences from others.

Sorry for the length of the post. Even though there was no kill, hopefully it was worth the wait.

New gun

So with the hunting season fast approaching my hand was forced and I purchased a new gun. I was going to go with a Tikka T3 7mm but the gun alone was $700 so I shot lower and bought a Marlin XL7S 30-06 with stainless barrel and synthetic stock.

I got a Redfield scope- 9x40. They are a Denver-based company owned by Leupold and apparently have quality scopes for good prices- $150 for the scope and it is definitely brighter than the Bushnell Elite that I had on my old gun.

The trigger is adjustable, something I will never use, but it looks cool.

The barrel end is recessed- I have no idea what this does, but again, it looks cool

Reviews I have read are all positive and say it is comparable to the mid-lower end Remington 700s. The recoil pad is better than my old gun but I have not shot it yet so not sure exactly how it will be. The big plus is that it is only 6.5 lbs, way lighter than my old gun. My major concern is that you have to load through the receiver- there is no magazine.

Going out next weekend for 4 days, probably with about 3,000 other people.

Moose Hunt 2011 - Smithers

About 2 days to go before we head out on our moose hunt. Scott and I scouted the put-in on Thanksgiving Monday and walked upstream a bit to check out the river.

Here’s the area we’re looking at. Lot’s of good habitat at moderate elevation with limited access. Basically lining a canoe.

It’s about 500-600 metres or so from the road to the river through forest and wetland. It’s a bit of slog and it is probably enough of barrier to most hunters. LOT’S of moose sign, but we didn’t see any moose that day. Just lot’s of fresh track and scat.

We walked up the river a bit to look at what we would have to deal with. The water level has dropped quite a bit in the last couple of weeks and it should stay about the same by the time we get out there. About waist deep in the deepest section, so it should be easy to line, but a bit trickier to paddle down on the way back depending on the logjams. We’ll likely have to line in sections on the way down too.

It’s open season next week, so it could be a bit busier on the road, but I imagine there will be few (if any) groups in the area we’re going. Even if we get skunked, it should be a nice trip.

Trip report when we return.

Fall Hunting 2011: Or Finding out Things I need

1) A dog.

Last week I was hunting north of Bonnyville. It is an insane flyway and since I could not legally hunt deer, I decided to go for a few ducks.  To get close enough to shoot,  I waded out to an island and crawled for 100 meters across mud, goose shit and rocks. When I got to the edge of the island I popped my head up only to find I was still 50 yards away from the group. I shot at the closest group and managed to bag three - I then had to wade 60 yards out in mud and water up to my waist.

2) A truck.

For the second year in a row I have had to put a deer in the Civic's trunk. I am visiting Phil up in Cleardale and I shot this doe at 20 yards yesterday.

It is now hanging in a local mennonite's cooler - they are charging me 10 bucks per day.

And I am forgetting the the best part. I have cleverly depicted the events leading up to shooting the deer using google maps and the pin feature.  

Keep in mind Phil lives the middle of nowhere so the truck took 2 hours to get there. Kim's tire was rusted on solid which meant I could not pry it off - hence the need for the tow. However, Ron the tire guy lived right on the edge of crown land which is where I decided to go once the tire was plugged. Rather serendipitous in the end I suppose.

Inaugural SS&S 2011 big game hunt report

While this might have been the inaugural big game hunt, I've likely waited long enough to post this that I'm surprised I haven't been beaten to the big-game-hunt-report punch. Mea culpa. Onward.

This year's hunt, as with last year's, was a bit of a last-minute affair. I knew I wanted to go, either for moose or caribou, but it wasn't until the week before that I pinned down hunting partners. This year, I joined up with Todd, a manager here at Environment Yukon, and Wayne, his buddy from Fort Mac days (Todd is this Todd, a former SRD Regional Biologist for Fort McMurray: though he's back in Yukon now, working for us). Todd's moved back to Yukon so recently, in fact, that he doesn't qualify for resident status this year, and Wayne's from Alberta. This boils down to me being the only guy with a tag - a strange kind of pressure to be under on a hunting trip. After come consultation, we settle on hunting the same area I hunted last year, along the X River in X Yukon. This trip involves a potentially hairy paddle down the X. Because the X can and does eat inexperienced paddlers, there's almost no hunting pressure there, and it's through some great habitat - wetland complexes, willow flats and 20-year-old clearcuts. It's a great spot, if you like paddling (and moose).

Todd (left) and Wayne (right) eat pre-trip cookies.

So, on Saturday afternoon, Todd and I drove to X to meet Wayne, who's driven up from Calgary. We ate a lousy, greasy gas station supper, and visited the range where I think I sold the idea of buying a Tikka T3 to Todd (a matter for a different post - I finally bought myself a Tikka T3 Stainless in .30-06, which is by far the most accurate rifle I've ever used). We met Wayne at the X campground - a solidly redneck guy with a thick New Brunswick accent.

The next morning, we headed up a rough logging road to the put-in. Along the way, we spotted a ton of spruce grouse - I was the only one with a license for grouse, too, so when we came on a group of three in the middle of the road, Todd lent me his shotgun and I walked right up to them and missed. Twice. Well, almost - I wing one on the second shot, then track it down through the woods.

As close as you can come to a miss

Two things; Todd had his choke set all the way open, and Wayne had been filming me. Todd promises to play the video at my retirement party. For a trip that was already a bit high-pressure, this is an inauspicious start. We hit the river, Todd soloing, and Wayne and I together in my canoe, and I discover Wayne hasn't really paddled before. We go over draws and pries. We poke around backwaters and wetlands, but it's really sunny and pretty hot out - not ideal moose hunting weather (but very ideal canoeing weather). The river's a lot higher than last year, and it takes me a bit to recognize the spot where I camped last year. We stop there, set up camp, and hunt through the evening in the clearcuts near the river. Nothing's stirring, and there's not much sign. We're all a bit disheartened - it doesn't feel very moosey.

Sunny, warm, and not much sign

We get up early the next morning, and head back to the clearcuts to call and wait. After an hour and a half or so, we hear a bunch of breaking branches back near camp, the sound of a moose-sized animal moving through the trees. This is good for a half-hour of breathless excitement, which fades as nothing comes of it and we think of other things (trees floating down the river, falling branches) that could have made the noise. Wayne and Todd head back to camp, but as I'm holding the rifle and a bit more keyed up about shooting something than they are, I wander off in the direction of the noise to investigate further. As I round a bend in the river upstream of camp, I catch the unmistakeable black bulk of a moose on the far shore. I sneak up closer, and spot a cow and calf, and then another cow, in a backwater across the river. I watch them for a while, and try a bull call or two, and I get their attention, but don't see any other moose. The lone cow seems to be acting a bit unusually - running around a bit and vocalizing, but I can't spot any bull with her. I head back to camp to get Wayne and Todd, figuring they'd like to at least see a moose, but they're gone by the time I get them back to the spot. Todd and I paddle across the river and stalk quietly through the area, but find nothing except tracks.

We decide to press on downriver, and pack up camp. Almost immediately downriver, with Todd in the lead canoe, I spot a cow and calf on shore. I stage-whisper up to Todd "Moose!", and he looks way downriver with his binos and assures me I'm looking at stumps. He's about beside the cow and calf now, and only spots them when they bust through the brush away from the river. We stop there for a bit, too, but they're gone, and there's no bull with them. We're more excited now, though - it may be hot and sunny, but there are moose around. We float slowly downriver, checking out likely habitat, and we find some good spots, but they're all really thick, hard to hunt, and not the kind of place we want to pull a dead moose out of. As it gets toward 5pm, we stop at the next big gravel bar we see, and set up there for the night.

Camp for the night

After an early supper, Todd and I take a canoe up a small backchannel next to camp, while Wayne stays behind to go fishing. He catches his first-ever grayling before we're even in the boat. Todd and I get about a kilometer in before our way is blocked, and we set up in kind of a lousy location near a creek and call until just before dark, with no results (though both Todd and I could swear we heard something small and/or sneaky moving around in the brush for a while - wolves?). As we paddle back into camp, Wayne is really excited. He'd been doing some calling as well, while he was fishing, and a had big bull come out of the woods across the river, wade across to the gravel bar on our side, walk toward him, then veer off into the woods. We make plans to get up early and call the next morning, and go to bed excited.

At 5:45 the next morning, we're up and ready. We set up on the highest point of the gravel bar, sitting back to back so as to see in all directions. It gets to legal shooting time, 6:10, but it's still too dark to see much, as it's finally clouded over. We wait 20 minutes, until the black turns to grey, give a cow call and wait.

Within 10 minutes, I can spot a light shape that seems out of place. I watch carefully, and it moves - a darker, larger shape forms below it, and it's a moose antler on a bull, feeding on willows and slowly making its way towards us along the bank from upriver, above the top of the gravel bar. I tell Todd and Wayne, then sneak ~50m closer, where I can hide behind the root mass of a washed up tree. I can see the shape of the moose's body, but I don't have a good view of the antlers, I need to be sure it's a bull. I bring the binoculars up with one hand, but I'm too excited and shaky, I can't focus on it. I put the rifle down and steady myself against a root; it's a bull. There's a dark shape behind it, too - perhaps another moose, but my only concern with that is that it's not directly in line with the shot I'll take. As the bull comes closer, I put down the binos and pick up my rifle. The bull looks small in the scope, it's a 175m shot, but my rest is good and I'm confident in the rifle. It turns broadside to browse, and I shoot.

At the shot, the moose runs out into the shallows of the river. I'm concerned, I didn't see any obvious reaction that signals I've hit it, but I figure I must have. I shoot again as it slows to a walk - I don't want the moose any further into the river. It turns back toward the bank and begins to run - I shoot a final time, and it disappears into the brush on the bank. I run back to my pack with Todd and Wayne - the gun's empty, and I want more ammunition. I reach them, and then look back, and the moose is standing on the bank, looking at us as if nothing's happened. It heads back into the willows, and I'm really worried, though Todd and Wayne assure me I hit it well. Wayne's recorded everything on his video camera, so we review the footage:

Some notes on this video:

• Firstly, that the dark shape behind the bull was a second, larger bull (which was actually the one Wayne thought I was going for).
• Secondly, the first bull's reaction to the shots is apparent - the first makes impact, and after the second the moose is blowing lung steam from bullet holes in its sides.
• A second clip (not included) shows that in fact it's the second bull that came out and watched us on the bank after I shot the first. I suddenly appreciate that I only had three cartridges at my disposal. Neither bull is as big as the one Wayne saw the night before.
• For the second year in a row, I'm using cheap ammunition on a moose hunt. For a second year in a row, I shoot a moose three times. My plan had been to use some handloaded Barnes TSX from Todd, but at the range , we discovered that they didn't cycle dependably through my gun, so I fall back on the cheap 180gr Federals I'd been using for sight-in. Next year I'll either have some better handloads from Todd, or use a bonded bullet.
• I hadn't realized Wayne was narrating. I might have had some directorial input otherwise.

I'm worried, I haven't seen the moose fall. We wait half an hour before putting on our waders and lining a canoe up to where I shot the moose. We reach the spot, and there's good sign - lots of blood, and by its tracks in the river sand, it's stumbling before it hits the bank. We're all worried it has buried itself into the thick willows, but we find it immediately, up on the grass beside the river, above the wet sand and just outside the willows - perfect. The first two shots were both lung shots, the third a largely ineffective one in the hindquarter. We're all familiar with taking apart large animals, within two hours it's in bags and in the canoe. We pack up camp, have a leisurely lunch and are on the river by noon.

A perfect moose in a perfect spot

Next trip, a tripod
The Tikka groups as well on moose as it does on paper

Half a moose loaded

The water's much higher than it was last year, so the going's easier, but there's a really nasty logjam just before X that's as bad as ever. The river constricts suddenly between two high logpiles, and accelerates through them and into a huge floating logjam at the end. There's a hard left into an eddy, with a very sharp current seam, and the consequences of missing the turn are being forced into and under the floating logjam where you'll conceivably remain forever. Todd's confident we won't have to line it, that we can run it just fine, and I tell him he's got more confidence than I have. After some thorough instruction, though, Todd runs it successfully, and Wayne and I follow. We shoot through on the left, almost grazing along the logs on the left side of the chute, then I steer us into the left eddy, bracing for the fast spin we'll take when the bow hits the eddy. We spin even faster than I anticipate, the right gunwhale goes low, and we ship a bunch of water. I pull us out of it, then we teeter the other way, and Wayne bails. The canoe fills, but stays upright, I get out to keep us afloat, but we're in calm eddy water, and we manage to get ourselves and the boat to shore without upsetting it. We bail, and except for being wet, everything's fine. We hit X almost immediately afterward, and it's calm paddling thereafter.

Easy paddling on X

Quartered and bagged - cool, clean and dry for the night

With our time and the river speeding along, we could have made it to the highway before dark, but we don't want to arrive in Whitehorse at 3am, so we camp on a broad sand bar on X, about 10km north of the highway. We have a big supper, drink a bit of Scotch, and convince Todd to do a bit of moose calling (as he's never hunted moose by calling them). We go to bed, only to be woken up at 5am by a bull moose grunting around behind our camp. We all get up, and stand around in our underwear in the moonlight, peering into the night to see the moose. By its tracks, it gets to within 120m of camp before running off. We head back to bed, get up late, and have an easy float back down to the highway.

Only because this is awesome

Gamebirdin 101

There are really only two rules:

1. Go to Caw Ridge in September
2. Carry a shotgun with no. 7 1/2s

I got 13 ptarmigan and 3 spruce grouse. I saw three more but did not shoot/missed.

My friend and I shot 10 in the first 30 minutes in the field, thus filling our daily quota.

It was quite epic as the ptarmigan often fell 30-40 feet off the cliff after being shot. I quickly scrambled to get them as I kept spooking additional birds (I also figured I would lose them if I did not go right away).

For those who know Caw Ridge I stumbled upon these spruce grouse at the bottom of West End. The male put up a good fight and I had to chase him up the slope in the back left. I often hear people complaining about the taste of spruce grouse but I think they are delicious.

This was also the first time I really took advantage of the stand-on-the-wings-pull-the-feet method of cleaning: it worked quite well and by the end I could do a bird in under five minutes