Outlined in the haze of wildfire smoke, the owner of Medicine Bow Outfitters crabwalked back down the ridgeline a few feet to where my wife, Tiffany, and I were crouched in the sagebrush. With his eyes wide, Jared said, “I know it’s the first morning, but any hunter in the country would take this bull in a heartbeat.” He looked at Tiffany and asked if she was ready.
Getting to that point had been a long journey. Although I’d grown up hunting, Tiffany had never picked up a gun until a few years ago. We got a bird dog, and she started chasing pheasants with me, but she still wasn’t interested in hunting big game. However, she’d always said she wanted a moose mount for the wall. I’ve been a Huntin’ Fool member for years, and you know what they say, so six years ago, I began applying for her for moose in a few states. It’s normally a 20+ year process to draw a tag, so I figured I’d have time to get her into big game hunting.
It was such a remote possibility that I didn’t even check her results online. It was an incredible shock when she walked into my home office with an envelope from Colorado in one hand and a 2020 either-sex moose tag in the other. That started a summer of new experiences. I started by finding a guide. With this being Tiffany’s first big game hunt, I was more concerned about the overall experience than finding the biggest bull. After a bunch of calls, I found Jared and Medicine Bow Outfitters. They have non-motorized access across the private valley floor and use horses and wagons to cross a couple miles of sagebrush to a beautiful little camp tucked behind a hogback with access to miles of National Forest.
With the hunt booked for the first week of October, we started working with Tiff on using a rifle. Almost every day, she’d practice getting a solid rest with my 7mm on a tripod or pack and dry firing at moose pictures taped to the living room wall. Then we moved to the .22, hanging more moose targets on trees. You’d be surprised how realistic it is to shoot at an 8x11 moose picture at 30 yards. Through the scope, it looks like a real animal at 200 yards. When she was smoothly squeezing the trigger without any recoil, we moved up to the .223 and eventually the 7mm at the range. She was driving tacks by September.
Driving in the day before season was nerve-wracking because camp was only 16 miles from the big Mullen fire and there was a massive smoke plume billowing into the sky. The wind and forecast were in our favor, so we piled our gear into the wagons, jumped on the horses, and in we went. As we were settling into camp, I spotted a cow up the mountain and Jared showed us a video of a really nice bull that had walked through camp the day before. That night from the hill above camp, we glassed up a number of other moose, elk, and deer out in the sage.
There were two deer hunters in camp plus a few guides getting ready for the upcoming elk season, so we had plenty of eyes. Jared, Tiff, and I rode out early on opening morning. After an hour or so of riding in the dark, we tied up the horses and climbed to the top of a knoll just at dawn where we could see miles into the sage. The wildlife smoke made it tough, but we were able to make out a few moose in the distance. As we were starting to plan a play to get closer, Jared got a text and we scrambled back to the horses.
It turned out one of his guides had glass on a stud moose that was beating the tar out of three smaller bulls about a mile away. We were back on the horses, hightailing it that direction, when one of those beaten bulls walked across a hillside across from us. He was big in his own right, but a close look revealed a big tine on his left antler was broken off. We’d just missed a heck of a fight.
Another half hour of riding and climbing, and we were on the ridgeline with Jared. We peeked over the top and could just make out the bull and cow bedded down behind the one big pine tree on the hill. Jared popped open a cow moose decoy, and the three of us got behind it and crosshilled until we had a clear line of sight. They were both peering at us from 225 yards, but they didn’t seem concerned about the interloper on the hill. Tiff got a sold rest on the tripod and then we waited for the bull to stand clear of the cow and give us a shot. That was the longest and most exciting 30 minutes of my life. He was massive – black and blocky, long fronts, wide palms, and a flame on the right side. Just a huge Shiras bull. Jared was whispering quietly to Tiffany about what to expect, and I was taking a ton of pictures through the spotting scope and trying to stay out of the way. Finally, the bull lumbered to his feet and started heading down to the stream. I heard Jared tell Tiff to wait until he stopped him. Jared let out a load moan, and the bull stopped and glared up the hill. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Tiffany fired, and he staggered. Through the scope, I watched his whole body shudder. He caught himself and started moving when Jared’s next moan stopped him again. Jared told Tiff to shoot him again. She looked up from gun with a shocked expression and asked, “Why? Did I miss?” All our training had focused on making the first shot perfect, and kind of on purpose, I’d never told her that she’d need to shoot a second time. We quickly sorted it out, and with one more shot, the bull nose-dived into the sage.
What an amazing experience it was walking up to him. I’d never seen a bull moose on the ground, and massive is an understatement. Every part of him was huge. Tiff had hit him perfectly, two shots a few inches apart right behind the shoulder. After a whole lot of celebration, we started breaking him down and getting the meat cooled and hung. Coming back the next day with the string of horses was another highlight of the trip. We took our time, winding our way through the sagebrush and golden aspen, looking for sheds and arrowheads as the sky was lit up a spooky orange by the fires.
The goal of this hunt wasn’t to kill a record book bull. I was more concerned with making sure my wife’s first big game hunt was a positive event, which made it even more amazing when we put a tape to the antlers back in camp. With a taxidermist helping, we came up with a spread of 49 7/8" and a gross score of 150 2/8". That would just qualify for Boone and Crockett. Even more exciting than that is that Tiffany loved the whole hunt and we’re starting a new chapter in our marriage! She now wants to try for bugling elk in September and rutting mule deer in November. I’ve been wearing out the Huntin’ Fool Advisors to find the best options and can’t wait to see what happens next.
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