Yukon Moose
2000

It all began when I was talking with my friend Stan Godfrey who had been on a moose hunt the previous year and had harvested a dandy bull. One of the things I like to do is talk to other hunters who have actually been in the camps in order to get their personal reference as to what the outfitter is like.

I've been on a few hunts where everything sounded really good, but in reality the people who owned the camps were just good salesmen. Once they have your money it didn't matter how your hunt ended up. I don't always have to harvest an animal on a hunt to have a good time, but I've been in camps where I've wanted to go home two days after I've been there.

My friend Stan has a great love for the sport of bow hunting and is always willing to give his honest comments on hunts he's been on. He told us that the MacMillan River Outfitters had moose running all over the place but he didn't think we'd be able to book a hunt for at least two years because of their backlog. The next day I called Dave Coleman, who runs MacMillan River Outfitters, and he said he had a cancellation during the second hunt. This would be in late September. I told him to sign us up; I was excited. We were going on a moose hunt of a lifetime! Coleman's area is noted for some of the largest moose taken in the Yukon.

Upon our arrival in Whitehorse, Andrea Coleman met us at the airport and the first thing I asked her was how the hunts were. She said we could talk to the other hunters who had just come out of the camps and they would be willing to tell us their stories when we got to the Gold Mine Hotel.

After getting our room, my wife and I went to the little restaurant inside the hotel and Andrea introduced us to three characters that had just come out of a camp on the MacMillan River. Two of the guys kept heckling the third one. When we asked them how their hunt went the two guys had told us they had both taken trophy bulls with shots less than 20 yards. The third hunter was drinking his coffee and actually seemed like he was in a daydream as they were telling their stories. Then his friends told him to tell us his story. He said, "that's all right, you guys can tell it better than I can".

The story that they told us was just unbelievable but you knew it was true by the way the hunter was acting. What they had told us was that they had called in a large bull as the hunter was sitting behind a pine tree waiting for the right shot opportunity. The bull kept moving closer and closer to the calling. The hunter never had a decent shot; by now the bull was so close he actually started raking the pine tree the hunter was sitting behind. His friends told us of how the branches of the pine tree were swatting his friend as the bull was raking the tree. The bull finally turned and started walking away from the tree and the hunter was so shook up that he was petrified. His friends said they were hollering at him at the top of their lungs to take the shot, which he finally did, and made a good placement of the arrow. They told us that the moose we are hunting had probably never heard human voices before and they didn't spook easily. After hearing their story I didn't need to hear any more. I couldn't sleep that night. I kept thinking about the camp we were going to be flying into the next morning and what our hunt would be like.

The next day the weather was like a typical fall day. Not much wind and it was like flying through a dream. We landed on a small lake where there were two cabins and met our guide who was awaiting our arrival. The first thing I did was unpack my bow and make sure that nothing had happened to it during the flight. While practicing I couldn't imagine what it would be like to put an arrow through such a large animal; but I had a lot of confidence in my shooting.

The following day we got into a small boat and went to different parts of the lake, calling for moose. I asked our guide why we weren't getting out and hiking through the hills for these animals because this is what I thought we would be doing. He told me there was a good reason for the tactics he was using and that I would know what they were before the hunt was over.

On the third day of my hunt, it was dead calm and again we were in the boat making our way around the lake, stopping and calling in various places. Then I heard a sound I hadn't heard before. My guide said it was a bull answering us. He immediately rowed the boat quietly into the shore and we got out. We slowly made our way up the hill about 150 yards. He called once more and the bull responded the same as before. He told me to make my way up the hill about 50 yards ahead of him. My wife stayed at a safe distance near the guide as I set up near a large deadfall.

The wind was in my favor and the guide picked up a large stick and started raking a tree next to him, making an extreme amount of noise, and then started grunting. I could hear the bull we were calling and it sounded as though he was getting much closer. The guide continued raking the tree and grunting. I would have thought that something as big as a moose would stand out like a sore thumb, but with the tall pines and thick undergrowth, they were concealed very well.

When the bull grunted again, it sounded like he was right on top of me but I still couldn't see him. Then there was some movement just above me but I couldn't make out what it was. It looked like "legs". The bull grunted once more. By then my eyes were wide open and the hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up. That's when I realized there was more than one animal. The first bull stepped into a small opening about 40 yards from me. It was bigger than any animal I've ever been that close to before. He was looking right past me; probably trying to locate the source of the grunting and raking but my guide had completely quit making any noise at this point. The bull kept working its way closer and closer to me. A second bull had now stepped into the opening and I could see he was much larger than the first bull. I knelt there motionless wondering if the first bull was going to step on me. He had turned slightly to his left and passed within 15 yards of me. Unbelievable! The second bull was coming through a little further out than the first one. He presented me with a 25-yard shot. The arrow hit its mark and penetrated all the way to the nock. He jumped and kicked like a bucking bronco and ran off into the dense pines. Then it was dead silent. My wife and my guide hurried up to where I was standing. I was still in awe over what had happened.

We decided to wait at least 45 minutes before tracking the bull. Believe me, it was the longest 45 minutes of my life. When I was looking at the size of the hoof prints I couldn't believe how big they were. We followed the trail about 90 yards and there we found the huge bull. He kind of reminded me of a small bus lying on its side. Then the work began. It took the rest of the afternoon just to cape and quarter the bull. We repeatedly kept walking back and forth to the boat with the meat. Three hundred yards seemed like 10 miles because of the time that it took to walk through the soft tundra. Now I knew what my guide meant by not wanting to hike too far off the lake. It actually took us a total of five trips to get everything. Every time we went back to retrieve more of the meat we were always on the lookout for bears that might come in to claim what remained of my trophy. The last thing we took out was the skull and antlers. I couldn't believe how heavy they were and especially how difficult it was trying to maneuver around the trees. I still don't know how a moose do it.

The following night is when Mother Nature really began testing my wife and me. The temperature dropped from 30 degrees above to a minus 18! You couldn't believe what we had to do just to stay warm. There were holes in our cabin big enough to throw a cat through! It took several hours to fill the holes with peat moss and with whatever else we could find. The small barrel stove ate wood like a tree grinder. While cutting trees for our firewood, the chain saw broke and the only way of fixing it was by taking one of my bowstrings and using it for pull cord. It was so cold at night we wore all our clothing to bed. I'd wake up in the morning with my hat froze to the bedpost. It was an incredible experience and that's another whole story in itself.