I got my first moose!
It was a wild, dark, and starry morning of coyotes howling and bats darting. It gave way to the dawn of loons calling, crows cawing, and moose grunting. A friend was cow calling and raking brush for about five minutes at first light when a bull started grunting at us. My father saw it walk out of the trees about half a mile down a logging road while I sat in a growing clear cut. I first saw it at 50 yards but because of the angle, I had no shot. I waited patiently, sure it was going to bust us and take off, but he kept walking while he stared right at me, blazing orange and wide-eyed. He was getting closer and finally I knew I had to take my shot before the bull tripped on my father. I got him steady in my scope as he took three more steps, and as soon as he stopped, BOOM!. He jumped off the road, into the trees breathing heavily. He was silent, and I could see my hunting partners wondering if I had missed, but I knew. Then we heard two heavy breaths, then what sounded like a giant tree falling, pops, cracks, boom and all. He gave his loud last breath, and then our loud excitement began. From the time I pulled to the trigger to the dying breath seemed to last forever in the moment, but it was probably 45 seconds. They say the work starts once you get a moose down, but in Maine they have things like logging roads, trucks, power winches, and skinning hoists, so it really wasn't very hard. Since it took my father 30 years to get drawn for the tag, I look forward to another moose hunt when I'm 60 and he's 90!
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| The weigh station where you register your moose. 668 lbs. |
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| Home to show Huck and family. |
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| Skinning it at the butcher's house. |
It was also a great harvest time while we were there. My aunt gave us loads of tomatoes and cucumbers from her garden and
some of her homemade garden pickles and green tomato relish. We got to pick pumpkins from a pumpkin patch, buy fresh corn at a farm stand, pick buckets of potatoes behind the commercial harvesters, and pick wild apples to our heart's content.
We also were lucky enough to go on a horse-drawn wagon ride to see the leaves in their peak of oranges, reds, and yellows.
Fall in Maine is great!
