I am not feeling very light hearted at the moment as my first dive ended in a dry suit malfunction. I have been almost shaking with frustration and anger. It is hard to see money laying on the bottom of the ocean and not be able to scoop it into my bank account.
I take a steaming hot pizza off the plane and hand it to Matt. Supper is served!
We jump into the truck and head off for moose camp.
I have hunted moose one other time with not much results. I was able to see one cow moose dash across a road... and that sums up my moose encounters for my life.
Matt and I hunt hard for nearly a week with no encounters, but that is hunting. The area we are hunting is brush choked, swamp infested, timber blow down tangled mess. Only the moose and beavers are happy here. The beavers are most happy when they secretly watch moose hunters drop out of sight in some boggy muskeg hole that is a direct result of their damming up a little stream.
I don't think I've sweatted so much just trying to buck through a devils club thicket to find the nice muskeg, only to be sabotaged by the beaver.
As my hunt days were nearing the end, Matt and I hiked to the end of the earth... or so it seemed, and finally made contact with a bull moose.
Matt is pretty savvy at sounding like a cow moose begging for a boyfriend and the bull moose was wanting to encourage the relationship.
The bull moose was coming quickly towards us by the sound of his grunting and we were getting excited about finally seeing one of the giants.
The grunting bull then hung up. This is not uncommon in moose hunting. When a bull is approaching they will grunt on every other step of their front feet. "olf, olf, olf," it echoes through the heavy timber. When the bull "hangs up" the grunting seems to stop and things grow quiet.
"Grunt at him!" Matt hissed barely above a quiet whisper. "See if we can keep him coming.
I gave the bull a big "OLF" of my own and man did that fire him up.
The bull blew into an instant rage. He would "olf" with a throaty roar tapering off at the end of each grunt. My hair stood up on my neck. I have never heard an animal sound so angry. He was not impressed to think that another male moose may have moved into his territory just when he had heard Matt the female moose!
The bull was still hung up in the thick timber so I continued to grunt at him and instantly he would grunt-bellow back at me. The woods echoed his pent up fury each time he grunted.
Matt signaled that he would try to work around on the bull to see if we could get him. I kept speaking bull moose while he made his sneak.
Mr. bull moose and I carried on long conversation. I was speaking very good moose, and he seemed to agree while sharing his displeasure at me.
I grunted and no reply. I tried again, same results, for some reason my moose had gone silent.
Matt appeared all big eyed and explains what happened.
"I snuck up on the grunting moose and got to within 30 yards. I could hear him breathing fiery threats but could not see the animal. It was a clear muskeg boarding a wall of blown down logs that had the bull hung up. He could not find a way through the maze of downed logs.
I knew I was so close but still could not see hide nor hair of the beast," Matt continued.
"I stepped up on a big log to see into the distance when I couldn't believe my eyes. The moose was down in a big hole with just the tips of his big rack showing. Just as I spotted him he made eye contact with me and bolted out of the hole and into the thick timber."
We had a good chuckle at how the moose was so lucky to have been down in the hole and not where Matt could have easily observed him.
"Oh well," I told Matt, "at least I learned how to speak Moose!"
Matt calling early morning moose
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