I began applying for Colorado’s big game draws 13 years ago. Every year when selecting the higher point species such as moose, I have strategically applied for a specific unit based upon the statistics page, points needed, and antler measurements for that area. Only months after my submission, I noticed a credit card charge notification from Colorado Parks and Wildlife, and I immediately knew I had been selected for a coveted resident Colorado moose tag. I couldn’t wait to share the news with all my family and friends. This was a once-in-a-lifetime hunt.
I had never spent any time in the unit I drew, so in order to be successful, I needed to dedicate some time to scouting. After countless hours on onX, I felt confident that I had some solid moose areas located. In late July, my dad and I made our first five-hour trip up to Walden, Colorado to get a feel for the territory. We covered most of the public land in the unit, found glassing points, and located common moose traveled drainages. Even in the early stages of scouting the area, we located plenty of cows and bulls; however, it was still summer, and even though things would change as we got closer to fall, I felt confident in multiple locations for a successful hunt.
Between work and archery hunting in Utah, I did not return to the area until September. The tag I had drawn was a season choice tag, which meant I could hunt any of the seasons with the proper method of take. First season was archery/muzzleloader combined, which ran September 10-18, and archery extended through September 30th.
When September finally arrived, I was working out of state on a USFS wildfire contract. I flew home on the 14th and met up with my good friend, Nic, from Wisconsin at the airport in Denver. The minute we landed in Grand Junction, we began packing to get on the road early the next morning. We were hunting by the afternoon of the 15th. The first spot I had picked while scouting, which ultimately would be the area most hunted, had the highest glassing point. Within seconds, Nic had a cow spotted, and not far from her, to no surprise, were paddles. There was not just one bull but two! The first bull looked decent but not exactly what I wanted in a Shiras moose, plus, it was the first bull we had seen. My dad was arriving the next day, so we opted to keep watching the flat and get footage of the bulls for reference. We named these bulls “Tempie” (temptation) and “2 Year” as he would be what I was looking for in two years.
The next morning, we explored some different country. While we waited at camp for my dad, we talked to multiple elk hunters who almost all commented on seeing moose everywhere in the area. The next few days were slow, and the bull moose activity was minimal. Certainly nothing topped Tempie, even with my girlfriend, Becky, joining for good luck. After consulting my buddies, it was decided I would pursue Tempie. Day after day, we went back to the same glassing spot but instead found another bull we called “Indy” (Indecisive). After about a week of no show from Tempie, I decided to make a stalk on Indy to get a closer look at him and assess the drainage to see how wet and how tall the willows would be. The terrain these animals live in is nothing short of challenging.
My dad and I set out for the line of timber towards where Indy and his cows were bedded down. Nic was positioned at the top of the hill to help guide us in. Stepping in those willows, we had no idea of what we were getting ourselves into. Without a doubt, this would be the wettest stalk of our lives. The flat was covered in no less than three inches of water with the moose bedded smack in the middle. We inched in slowly, circling the wind in our favor, but it was impossible to be quiet with the sloshing water. Occasionally, we looked back at Nic, making sure the moose were still bedded. When we got approximately 40 yards out, the first cow stood up at 35 yards and immediately had me pegged. Then, the second cow stood just to her right. After I had the attention of the ladies, I started calling and there he was, Tempie. He stood 45 yards from me. I had no clear shot at his vitals. If he would have given me a clear shot, I would have taken it, but the wind began to swirl, and just like that, they were gone. We learned a lot about stalking moose that day. Pretty much keep the wind in your favor and you can do just about anything.
It was early morning on the 10th day of struggling to find Tempie or a bull of equal or larger caliber. My dad had to leave the night before, so this just left Nic and me for the last day of archery before heading back to work. We hiked out to the point as we had days before, and the wind from the west was strong. However, just as we crested the hill, Nic spotted a moose in the willow flat, a bull. It was time to move in. We watched as the bull acted like a rutty whitetail making rubs and scrapes everywhere until he finally bedded. I knew exactly where I needed to go in the flat this time as it wasn’t far from where I had made the previous stalk. Unlike my previous stalk, I was prepared and had muck boots in the back of the RZR. Just as I was leaving, Nic reached in his pocket and said, “Here.” He handed me a 22-250 round. I knew there was something special about it but didn’t ask, I just placed the bullet in my pocket and took off.
I hit the flat with confidence that my muck boots would do the trick, but with my first step filling my boot mid-calf, I was quickly reminded about the importance of checking your gear. At this point, I didn’t care and continued towards my bull. Nic had signaled me that the bull had gotten up and was moving left towards me. I snuck up the timber stringer to a cluster of pines and approached slowly through the chin-high willows. As I once again sloshed in the wet terrain, I wasn’t worried because the wind was directly in my face and my favor. However, I knew I had to be close. Suddenly, there was a paddle! The adrenaline started to flow as I was only 50 yards from my moose. I moved around below the willows looking for windows and found myself at the edge of a beaver pond with nowhere to go but towards him. After watching him, nocking an arrow, and letting the nerves calm a bit, I inched straight at him. The chin-high willows were covering his vitals in every direction. I called at him, but there was no reaction. I inched closer to 25 yards, and while he was fully aware I was there, he was unsure of what I was.
With no shot, I stood on a log to gain elevation and he decided he was going to back off. Turning and moving to the north side of the willows, I follow behind him downwind, knowing he was in perfect view for Nic. I popped out of the willows with my rangefinder on him. He was at 35 yards walking towards me. I stowed the binos and drew back. He stopped and slowly turned left, leaving me the perfect open vital shot. I released and watched the carbon-tipped with a 100 grain Magnus bury into his ribs. I knew it was a done deal. I was prepared to have to get another in him, so I immediately reached to nock another arrow, but instead, I watched my bull moose stumble and tip over. From there, I had a rush of emotions I’d never felt before come over me. This was an indescribable moment in time I’ll never forget.
I sat and basked in the moment and gave the bull time while Nic made his way to us. We celebrated and walked up to the bull together. We were in awe of how giant and magnificent the critter was. We took some photos and started to get to work. I reached in my pocket and handed the 22-250 round back to him and asked, “It must be lucky?” He replied that he had taken some of his father’s ashes and loaded them inside so he could be with him on his hunts. That made this moment and this hunt even more special!
After multiple pack trips out, we were finally back in the truck and on the road 12 hours later with soaking wet feet and empty stomachs, but this memory was worth every minute of the last week and a half.
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