My buddy, Dan Smith, and I ventured into the Alaskan wilderness in 2013 on a self-guided float hunt. Dan wanted a moose, and I wanted a caribou. Ironically, I got a moose and Dan got a caribou. When the hunt was over, I promised Dan that someday we’d come back to get him his moose. Finally, five years later, we set off to (hopefully) fulfill that promise.
We planned our hunt with the assistance of Larry Bartlett and Pristine Ventures, and after much research, we prepared ourselves that though we had two tags, we’d probably only shoot one bull. This particular river didn’t have a high population of moose.
When we arrived in Fairbanks, we spent a day preparing. We rented a van, stocked up on supplies, and picked up our rafts. The next morning, we drove up the Haul Road, traveling about five hours north to a predetermined location. We were picked up by a plane, brought to Bettles to check in with our charter, Brooks Range Aviation, and then shuttled out to a lake where we began our adventure.
The first two days, Dan and I hunted around the lake, trying to get a feel for the lay of the land as well as remember how to hunt moose. After seeing very little sign, we decided to begin our slow journey downriver.
Over the course of the next five days, we camped at different locations along the river and spent one or two days hunting at each spot. At this point, we had not seen or heard any moose.
On day six, we started to see tracks and fresh moose sign, and we occasionally heard a cow moaning, but still, we never laid eyes on a single moose. The weather was beautiful this entire time, almost too beautiful for moose activity. We did, however, encounter other wildlife. At each location we stopped at, we camped by a lake and every lake had a beautiful pair of swans on it. Every night, we would hear wolves howling. Since I was carrying a wolf tag, I would get up in the morning and try to call them in, but they eluded us throughout the whole hunt. Once, while we were calling for moose, a beaver tried to attack us. Dan was concerned as he was stuck in the mud and couldn’t get away, but fortunately, the beaver backed off. We had prepared for many dangers going into this hunt, but being attacked by a beaver had never crossed our minds.
One of the highlights during those days to help fight off discouragement was catching northern pike in the river. We had many dinners by the fire with a cooked pike, and as long as we could avoid the bones, fresh fish was a delicious way to break up the monotony of freeze-dried meals.
By day 10, we had resigned ourselves to the fact that we would be lucky if we were able to shoot one mature moose, much less two, as we only had three days left in the hunt. That evening, we pulled up a bank with our rafts to investigate the area. We finally heard what we had been waiting for – a bull moose grunting. It was too dark for hunting that evening, so we quietly set up camp, anticipating the possibilities for the next morning.
On day 11, we woke up with a renewed sense of excitement. Within 30 minutes of calling, we heard a bull across the river. We couldn’t get him to come in, so we decided to cross the river ourselves. We spent the entire day waiting, calling every 45 minutes. Towards evening, the bull started to respond. He came within 100 yards in the willows, but he backed off and left without a shot opportunity. We returned to camp, deciding we would take another stab at it the next day.
The next morning, we began in the same area, but it was silent. As we called and waited, Dan had one request, “If he comes out, don’t make me nervous by telling me he’s huge.”
Just as evening was setting in, we finally heard the grunt of a bull. We looked across the lake we were by, and there he stood. Forgetting Dan’s earlier request, my unfiltered reaction was, “Dan, there he is and he’s huge!” The bull moose made his way around the lake and within 200 yards of us. Dan was able to keep his composure and made two shots to take him down.
By the time we got to him, it was too dark to butcher, but we were able to measure him at an impressive 54". We would butcher him first thing in the morning, which would be our last full day in the wild.
That night, we were able to sleep great knowing we had a moose down. It felt great to fulfill the promise I had made in 2013, even if I wasn’t able to fill my tag. There simply wasn’t going to be time, and I was truly OK with that.
The next morning, we got up and made breakfast. While breaking branches for the campfire, I let out a few moose calls and scraped some trees. It was a half-hearted effort. I wasn’t going to put too much work into calling a moose in, but I still wanted to give it a try.
We were just finishing up breakfast by the campfire when all of a sudden, across the river, we heard a bull moose grunting. Dan and I looked at each other, astonished. By the time I grabbed my gun, the bull was already coming out of the woods. There was no question that he surpassed the 50" minimum, so I waited for him to turn broadside. It seemed like he stared at me forever before he finally turned. I was able to take three shots, and the bull was down.
Dan and I were shocked at how fast our hunt had changed. We went from thinking we had just gone on a 12-day camping trip to both of us filling our tags. We realized the enormous job we had ahead of us that day to butcher two moose and get down the river to our takeout spot. It just wasn’t going to be possible to do it all in one day, so we called our air charter to tell them we were going to be a day late.
We headed across the river, eager to check out the bull I had just shot. Since it had happened so fast, I wasn’t really sure how large he was, but walking up on him, I realized he was much larger than the 56" bull I had killed in 2013. After measuring, we realized he was a 64" bull. Then, we began the giant task of butchering. Fourteen hours later, after both bulls were butchered and packed out, we slept well from a day of hard work.
The next morning, we packed up our gear and meat in the rafts. Unfortunately, we had a slight delay when one of the antlers punctured Dan’s raft. We had to wait for the patch to dry. Finally, with inflated rafts and everything loaded, we headed downriver to our takeout. Once we got there, we had to shuttle our meat 300 yards from the river to a lake through the woods. This took several hours, but it felt great to finally be at the takeout.
The next morning, the weather began to change as rain and fog were coming in. It was questionable whether the plane would be able to make it through the fog, but thankfully, it did. After two loads out, we were finally able to make our way towards home with two awesome bull moose and memories to last a lifetime.
I’d like to thank Dan Smith for his patience and for the ministry he does as a missionary in Guatemala. I hope this trip was an encouragement and time of refueling for him. I’d like to thank both of our families for allowing us this time out in the wilderness, being in creation, and recharging for everyday life. Also, thanks to Huntin’ Fool for the resources they provide in making hunting dreams come true. Thank you to Larry Bartlett at Pristine Ventures and Brooks Range Aviation for sharing his knowledge of this area as well as pointers on how to hunt it. We couldn’t have done this trip without the help of so many.
Looking back on this hunt, it’s amazing to see God’s hand in the details. We were able to have 12 days of beautiful camping weather without worrying about meat. The last two days were intense but so satisfying. While it’s not an easy hunt, it is definitely an experience every hunter should have.
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