As I made the final preparations though I lost my fear and just got pumped, for me the potential risk in some of these hunts is part of the apeal. I cant say for sure but its probably the same for most people who do wilderness hunts. Although I sometimes feel some tension leading up to a trip once I get going I relax. Its just the simple acts of making sure your gear is waterproofed properly every morning, your canoe pulled up on shore securely every time you get out, and taking a compass reading whenever you leave the river etc that get you home safe. Even though I was paying $25 per hour to have a guy drive me to the starting point with my truck he backed out about 2 hours before I was supposed to leave, thats about par for this year. My gracious wife drove me to the put in so a big thank you to her for making this trip happen, probably against her better judgement. Saying goodby to her and my 21 month old daughter at the riverside just broke my heart though, it was much more emotional than saying farewell at home and driving away. While it was difficult it left me determined to stay sharp and cautious to ensure I made it home to see them.
The first day out I didnt see any moose but I did find this guy.
I've always felt that lynx are quirky creatures, one seldom see's them which would lead one to believe that they are very shy. However when I do see a lynx I am always left with the impression that it was no accident, the lynx simply decided to let me see him. I passed some time paddling upstream of the lynx and drifting down past him, progressively closer. He rolled around and played with some dead leaves just like a big house cat, finaly I got too close, about 15 yards. I had a lot of second thoughts about doing the trip this year with all the complications, I certainly don't have to go to this much trouble just to shoot a moose. Watching that cat playing by the river without any fear of me reminded me why I do these hunts.
Last year when we went after elk I felt that one reason that we didnt connect was that we spent too much glassing and poking aroung on the river instead of calling and hunting the shore. This year I was determined not to make the same mistake. The guy who I was supposed to go with this year has a rule about elk hunting "hunt where the elk are", well I found an old burn where you couldnt spit without hitting moose sign. The moose were there and so thats where I hunted. I still hunted and called in that burn for 2 days. The wind in the burn was perpetualy swirling and though my calling got some distant, half hearted responses I couldnt seem to make any progress. One evening I had a cow watch me from across the river for the better part of a hour.
I was unloading my canoe, setting up camp, chopping wood, and in just making a general racket. Despite the noise she continued to feed within 100 yards of my camp, she even winded me and blew a few times but did not leave. Finaly I fired up my camp stove and it scared her off. I found it ironic that after all the noise I had been making a product named the "Whisperlite" was what finaly spooked her. Just another neat experience that reminded me why I go to the trouble of doing these hunts, regardless of the outcome the hunts themselves become the real trophys.
I'd finaly got frustrated enough with that burn that on the fourth morning I loaded up the canoe and headed downriver. It rained all night which obscured the full moon and the tempature had dropped so I figured there was a pretty good chance of seeing moose on the river bank at first light. Right off the bat I scared one into some willows, I pulled up on the opposite bank and tryed to call him out but he wasnt having any of it.
A little further down it happened! I'm not sure how I even saw him, with the light and the background all I could see was the light tan parts of a moose... the strip along the top of his back and a little on the top of his head. Somehow my brain picked this up and said MOOSE! I looked through my binoculars and sure enough a little over 100 yards away was a young bull moose looking straight at me. Since I needed the meat I had already decided I would shoot the first bull I could find. The wind was blowing downstream towards him but wind in a pronounced river vally behaves much like the water. It blows down the middle and swirls off in eddys on either side. By deciding which shore looks most likely and hugging the oposite shore the hunter can often buy enough time to get a shot. He couldnt smell me but he had spotted me so I had to act quick. I could see him tense up through the scope so I gave a reasuring grunt and then shot him.
I felt that the shot had been a good one but the moose gave no sign of being hit as he ran off into the bush. I had my eyes locked on where he had dissapeared but just as I was nosing the canoe into the bank somthing caught my attention. Downriver less than 500 yards there was a VERY large moose standing on an island. Through my binoculars I could see that he was 50+ inches easy. "Just my luck" I thought, "if I were to be tracking one of the smallest moose I've ever shot, only to find I'd missed him, while the biggest bull I've seen wanders off down the river." While I was watching the big bull I became aware of a heavy panting close by, the sound of a lungshot bull breathing his last and I started to grin. I'd come out here to fill the freezer and my freezer would be full of about the best meat Alberta has to offer
The bull had died less than 30 yards from where I shot him, another one shot kill for my trusty .270. I found the 150 grain Fusion bullet under the hide on the far side. It took me about 2 1/2 hours to get him in the canoe, a personal record, and I didnt even need to use the packframe. I was still pretty tired by the time I had the canoe loaded though. I am often asked how one gets a moose carcass into a canoe, first off a quality tripping canoe is essential. I lay the quarters on the bottom, put a tarp over them, tie my gear on top, and use the rest of the meat and antlers to trim the canoe out. One needs to be aware of how they lay the quarters or the canoe will be off ballance and poorly trimmed. I usualy have the best luck laying one front and rear quarter in front of the center thwart, and the same aft of the thwart in a kitty corner fashion. The paddle home is always more fun when you have a nice hood ornament for your boat.
I was about two days paddle from the takeout so I started making some miles. With the moose in the canoe it handled sluggishly, running rapids consisted of lining up with the best looking chute and praying like crazy. From manhandling moose around all morning my hands and forarms kept cramping up while I paddled. Finaly at four pm I saw an island that I recognized as the one I had celebrated my 28th birthday on 2 years ago while hunting moose so I stopped and fryed myself some moose liver, the first food I had eaten all day. It seemed like a fitting place to celebrate.
This is where I met Mad Mike. Mike came roaring up the river in a jetboat, saw me, and pulled over. At first he didnt seem very friendly but after we chatted about the river, hunting, and moose livers for a little while he offered me a ride home. I could tell that he'd been drinking but the offer was too tempting so we loaded some of the gear into the jetboat and dragged the canoe full of moosemeat onto the jet boat and off we went. It was only at this point that I realized exactly how intoxicated Mike actualy was, in all the years that I've been river tripping this is the most scared I've ever been. The river was shallow and rock studded so Mike had to run it a full tilt and keep a sharp eye out. The problem was that most of the time he was driving with his knee, mixing himself a drink, loading his rifle, and keeping up a running conversation with himself complete with the facial expressions and hand motions of a truely drunk man.
When he was actualy paying attenting to where he was going he was trying to show off or somthing which was just as scary given his state of sobriety. We lauched off of a couple big boulders hard enough to crack the windshield and almost lost the moose meat, another time we roared around the the outside of a sharp bend so close to the bank that I could actualy hear the willows on the bank hitting the bottom of the boat. I was sitting on the outside with the canoe full of several hundred pounds of moose meat between me and Mike, and I knew that if he tagged the bank the canoe would probably take me out. ! Mike saved me a day of paddling but looking back I'd have much rather paddled it. Nice guy though, I offered to pay him for scaring the crap out of me but he refused.
I absolutely loved hunting alone, I probably didnt speak a word outloud for almost 4 days and I was more in tune to the wilderness saw more game because of it, the freedom was amazing. Although I didnt miss human company at all the lack of conversation and distraction made it easyer to dwell on how much I missed my wife and daughter. Periodicly a memory of them would come flooding back and I would laugh outloud or feel a pang in my chest. However, getting away from all the distractions of life and getting my prioritys back in order isnt such a bad thing either so in all I'd say I'm hooked on the solo canoe hunts now.
