Reader-Submitted Story
My First Moose Hunt
by Tim Stair of Pennsylvania, USA
After unsuccessfully trying for many years to draw a moose tag for the lower 48, I decided to try a hunt with an outfitter in Alberta, Canada. I chose Misty River Outfitters in Fort Assiniboine with Nick Kuelken. I wanted a hunt that would allow me to drive from Pennsylvania and if successful, load the meat into a freezer for the trip home. Nick offered me such an opportunity with a wilderness river hunt.
Upon my arrival at Nick’s house, we loaded my gear into his jet boat and met Troy and Johnny, a father and son from Idaho, whom would be joining me on the hunt. Nick and his guide Frank drove both trucks towing the two boats we would be using to float the Athabasca River towards Fort McMurray.
After over three hours of driving, we arrived at our destination and launched the boats to begin our journey.
Nick and his son Issac fired up the boats and we made sure our rifles were accessible, as in many years previous, moose were often spotted along the river. It was a most beautiful voyage, as the fall foliage was in full bloom and a slight breeze was blowing the poplar leaves across the valley. After many hours of scanning the riverbank for moose, we arrived at our spike camp.
Gear was unloaded from the boats and in a couple of hours camp was functional. Two wall tents were erected for sleeping and another served as our usual dining hall. We had everything we needed to spend a week in the bush hunting moose.
After a quick snack of granola and protein bars, we made our way back to the boats and took off for an evening hunt. I went with Nick and Issac down river and Frank took Troy and Johnny, up river.
The river was lower than normal but the guide’s expertise, acquired in previous years, successfully navigated the many rapids and other hazards exposed by the lower level. Wolf tracks were numerous along the muddy bank but no moose were spotted that first evening.
Upon returning to our spike camp, we were treated to a hearty meal and after an hour of hunting stories, we found our way to our sleeping bags.
At 0530, the sound of a generator woke me and after a couple cups of cowboy coffee and some homemade cookies, we were ready to begin the morning hunt. Because of the likelihood of seeing a moose feeding along the river, the hunt begins immediately. It was a beautiful fall morning and I felt optimistic about our chances of encountering a lovesick bull moose.
After navigating numerous rapids, Nick steered the boat to shore and told me that we would hike off river to one of his most successful areas.
They blazed a trail ahead of me in the weeds and underbrush that made the hike challenging, but eventually we got to a small clearing. Fresh moose droppings and numerous beds brought me confidence that they had picked the perfect spot. Nick started to call and I just stood quietly and realized just how truly lucky I was just to be here amongst God’s splendor.
An hour had passed and nothing answered when suddenly Nick whispered, “There’s a moose!”
At first I didn’t spot him out about 100 yards to my left shoulder in a thicket. Nick gave another call and I saw his ears flicker. I had already discussed with Nick that I wasn’t expecting a trophy but simply wanted a moose that was respectable. As if he was summoned, the moose stepped from behind the bush and pranced out into the opening. I raised my rifle, looked him over, and decided I would take him.
Nick gave one last, soft call and the moose quartered toward me and gave me the shot I was waiting for. The shot was well placed and the bull spun around as if to go away from us and Nick said, “Better give him another one.” I waited until he quartered and when he headed back toward where he came from, I hit his lungs and my moose was on the ground. I gave Nick and Issac a high-five, went out to my moose and then said a quiet prayer for such a magnificent creature. Seeing my first moose lying on the ground made me realize just how huge an animal they truly are.
After picture taking, Nick estimated the moose to be three-years-old and probably weighed about 950 pounds. Now the work began, as I helped skin the moose, put game bags around the quarters, and bagged the moose meat. The process of packing the moose back to the boat took about half the day and by mid-afternoon, we had it back at spike camp, hanging from the meat pole. It was extremely warm, 30 Celsius, and it was calling for the same unusually warm temperatures until the week’s end so Pete, Nick’s dad, thought it best if we hauled it out the next day to a walk-in cooler.
On our way out we met the local Fish and Wildlife officer. With all our paperwork in order, he congratulated me on a successful hunt and wished me a safe trip home.
After graduating from high school, my dream of moving to Alaska never materialized but now some 51 years later, my dream of shooting a moose had come true. After losing my wife of 37 years to cancer, I met and married a widow from Coronation, Alberta. I truly believe God has a plan and us lucky ones will grow old enough to experience it.
For the previous Reader Story, click here.
