“Never again.” That’s what I said after completing a less than desirable drop camp moose hunt in Alaska in 2006, and I kept that promise for 16 years. When my cousin, Doug, asked me if I wanted to accompany him and his son, Aaron, on a drop camp self-guided moose hunt in Alaska, I sifted back through my memories and came to the conclusion that I could change my definition of “never” to 16 years. As long as I could take my 14-year-old son, Thomas, and my wife did not present too many objections, I was in.
Saturday, September 3rd, we landed in Dillingham, Alaska. We consolidated our gear and loaded into a floatplane that would take us north into Wood-Tikchik State Park. When we landed, we got busy setting up tents and stowing everything away.
On Sunday, we inflated the boat and explored the lake. Moose season didn’t start until Monday, so we spent most of the day fishing and catching Sockeye salmon and Char.
On Monday, Thomas and I went one direction and Doug and Aaron went another. At the end of the day, although we had found much sign, we saw no moose and Doug had managed to step into a sinkhole and get thoroughly soaked.
We switched it up on Tuesday. Thomas and I tried a new area while Doug and Aaron went in the direction we had hunted the previous day. Not too long into the morning, we heard a shot. Since we had not yet figured out how to communicate between inReaches, all we could do was hope and keep our fingers crossed. Upon returning to camp for lunch, Doug said they had walked up on a bull and cow in the timber, and after a tense time of trying to figure out if
the bull was legal to shoot, the bull was down. When I asked how big it was, he replied that it was legal but not very big. Further questions revealed that the bull had six brow points on one side and was probably over 60".
After a quick lunch and preparing our packs for the task ahead, we made the three-quarter mile hike to the bull. Upon arrival at the bull, I was momentarily speechless. Everything about this animal was huge. His antlers stretched our tape measure to 64".
Wednesday was spent recuperating, and Thursday and Friday yielded a lot of rain and bugs but no moose. Saturday morning, Thomas and I explored a new area further down the lake. After cow calling in a huge meadow with no response, we returned to camp. When we asked if they had seen anything, Aaron’s nonchalant reply was that he had a bull down about half a mile from camp. “Not as big as Dad’s,” was his reply when we asked about the size. Once again, when we arrived at the bull, I was speechless. The horns were 64" wide, and it had a body as big as the first bull.
The next three days consisted of a lot more bugs and a lot of rain but no moose. A few times during spells of excessive rain or horrific swarms of bugs, the “never again” thought entered my mind, but we persisted.
On Wednesday morning, Doug, Thomas, and I took the boat several miles down the lake and hiked about a mile uphill to a promising meadow we had found the previous day. The morning was beautiful and the sun was shining, but the moose were contemptible and would not join us. Around noon, we had had enough and hiked back down to the boat. We decided to quietly row the boat out into the lake a little ways and make a few cow calls, hoping the sound would carry across the water and produce a response. About two calls later, we heard loud splashing in the water. We couldn’t pinpoint where it came from, so we rowed a little further out. Suddenly, Doug, who was sitting behind me, grabbed and yanked on my coat like he was about to send me swimming in the lake. When I looked back at him, he was pointing frantically to our left. About 300 yards away, a bull was working his way down the shore towards us. With one brief look through my binoculars, I stated that the bull was legal enough to require a bullet. Thomas had a good prop for his rifle, but the boat and the moose were both in motion, so he couldn’t shoot. Moments later, the bull worked his way further inshore, so we paddled our way back to land and set up next to a tree. A few more calls and he came in to about 150 yards, but all we could see were his horns above the brush. Then he vanished. We sat there for a while and finally decided to quietly pull out and head back to camp.
After lunch and a nap, we decided to send Aaron and Thomas back to try for the bull again while Doug and I tried a different area. We hunted until it was almost dark, and since we had to pass camp on our way back to pick up Aaron and Thomas, I told Doug to drop me off at camp so I could wash dishes and begin dinner preparations. Doug had barely gone 200 yards in the boat when my inReach vibrated in my pocket. It was a short text from Aaron, “Bull down.” With no way to contact Doug, the next 45 minutes seemed like a week waiting for everyone to return so I could hear the whole story.
Upon returning, the lucky hunters said that after we had dropped them off they had set up in a ditch under a pine tree. Aaron set a cow moose decoy up in front of them and began to call. A short while later, the same bull from earlier came in to about 70 yards but did not give opportunity for a shot. They said he seemed to see the decoy but because the breeze was swirling, he caught their scent and vanished once again. They were devastated and thought they had been defeated, but they decided to keep calling occasionally. About half an hour before dark, the beautiful cow decoy and Aaron’s melodious calling enticed the bull in for another try. This time, two well-placed shots from Thomas swept him off his feet. At that point, Thomas was the happiest and most excited 14-year-old lad on the planet. He’s probably also one of a very small group of 14-year-olds who have harvested a 65" bull moose.
We knew we had experienced a pretty successful hunt, but when we got back to civilization, our outfitter, Brian Donovan, said in all his 30+ years of guiding and outfitting, he had never seen a group of hunters harvest three bulls as nice as these. At that point, we began to realize how fortunate we had been.
What an awesome experience! Perhaps I should be more careful when using the words “never again.”
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