This month I was able to do something I've been wanting to do since we moved here: go on a moose hunt. Last year, I was eligible but I didn't get a tag in time before the deadline. This year, I got my tag and our maintenance man at school didn't, so we struck a deal that he would take me out in his boat- "where no man has gone before" in his words- if I would split the meat 50/50 with him. This was a great deal for both of us, because without a boat I would only be able to hunt up the valley by Honda, where it can be difficult to run into any moose and where, even if I caught one, it would be even more difficult to get it back to the village.
We set out on an unusually warm and beautiful Saturday morning for this time of year. The farthest I've gone by boat fishing is about 10 miles upriver, which is just past the Fish and Game lodge. I'm not sure exactly how far Homer took us, but it was at least 30 miles judging by time on the water. We would stop along the shore, anchor the boat, and then start climbing the steep bluffs where we would stand and glass for moose and listen for bulls calling. We heard one cow and one bull in the copse of pines across the river, and Homer used his moose call to try and coax them out of the trees, but after an hour we decided to move on. "It's not like on TV," Homer said. "Our moose are spooky."
Some of the hills we climbed were incredibly steep. Here we climbed a hill that was about 100 feet up at about an 80 degree angle, which was a bit daunting on the way back down. On the left fork you can see what is a massive beaver dam. This far upriver there are huts and dams every couple 100 yards, and when you see a splash in the water, you're not sure if it's a fish or a beaver.
We watched a cow and a pair of calves from about 2 miles away as they slowly made their way to the river and crossed, hoping that a bull would stand up out of his hiding place in the brush for a shot.
We climbed up to the top of a steep hill a few hundred feet above the river and glassed here for about three hours, hoping to catch a glimpse of a moose, but at least enjoying tundra berries and the amazing panoramic view. We started to head back about 4 o'clock when we rounded a bend in the river and ran into a bull and a cow caught crossing in the middle. The cow took off immediately as I jumped out of the boat and leveled my rifle. This was the scenario that had been playing out in my head all day: having the patience to wait to shoot if I caught a moose in the river. Homer, normally a stoic and very quiet person, was yelling frantically at me "DON'T SHOOT! DON'T SHOOT!" I pointed my scope towards the river's edge and when the bull came into view I squeezed off a shot. Now Homer started yelling "SHOOT IT AGAIN! SHOOT IT AGAIN!" So, adrenaline coursing through me and Homer's words ringing in my ears, I chased him while I reloaded my single shot 30-06, shot, then chased some more as I reloaded, and continued until the moose crossed a small creek, jumped up a steep bank and crashed into the brush.
I jumped up onto the bank to make sure the moose was down, snapped a quick picture, and then went back to help Homer with the cart, which would prove to be invaluable.
Homer wanted to jump right into cutting up the moose, but first I had him take a few pictures. Nothing I've caught in my life compares with the sheer enormity of this animal. Homer guessed that this was a 3 year bull, on the small side for a moose at about 800 pounds.
As I said, it was an unusually warm day, and immediately we were swarmed by flies, gnats, and mosquitoes. To say it was a scene out of Into the Wild is not an exaggeration- we worked as quickly as we could gutting, quartering, and carrying it the 80 or so yards back to the boat.
Homer said that he takes a lot of flak for his cart, especially from Gary, but it proved to be a lifesaver. Each leg weighed around 100 pounds and was nearly impossible to carry without help. You can see the hand holds that Homer cut into the leg for easier carrying. We loaded the pieces onto the cart and hauled it together through the mud down to the boat. In all, it took us just under 2 hours to get the moose into the boat.
On our way back to Goodnews, about an hour long ride. I had to prop my boots on the massive ribs because there weren't any room for my feet. But this was just the beginning of the work.
Christina and Fletcher picked me up at the point and we loaded the moose into the back of the school's truck. Much too big to try and cut up in our cold room, we set up some tarps on the gym floor, and Fletcher, TJ and I spent the next 8 hours skinning, sawing, and cutting up the moose into manageable pieces.
Kim and Christina worked on washing and then vacuum sealing the meat for the freezer. 12 hours after shooting it, at 4 in the morning, all the moose was cut up, packaged, and frozen.
Smoking some moose ribs....
....then grilling....
....and the best part! (That is one individual bone, by the way...)
Of course, after hunting all day and cutting up meat all night, Christina and I had to get up the next morning and fly to Bethel. Christina had training as our site's CHAMPS coach and Junie and I spent our time hanging out at the hotel and exploring a little of Bethel. Junie absolutely loved going to the grocery store: running around, screaming and laughing at people, and of course, touching everything in sight. When she saw a mountain of avocados (her favorite) she let go of my hand and made a bee line for them. Yes, I was probably "that parent" in some people's eyes that day, but our poor girl doesn't get out to explore this side of life very often. I did draw the line though, when she tried to follow a cashier back to the Employee's Only section.
Enjoying one of the last nice days (we keep saying this and keep getting more nice days) outside with Junie. We decided to take a ride to the top of Big Rocky!
Carly has those same shoes & cute sweater as sweet June.
ReplyDeleteAnd boy oh boy I don't miss butchering moose. Gosh it's a lot of work!