Average Joe Hunting Adventures with Dan and CJ

After we sorted my buddies goat out we started our way back with the intent to glass some areas that looked promising. The first bowl we glassed held 12-15 does and what looked like a good buck.
The terrain wasn't very helpful, but I did find a blind spot that cut me down from 800 yards out to 350.
Then I noticed a small bush that I could use as a blind spot to get me closer, but... I had to crawl
It took me a bit, but I was able to shave off another 150 yards. I was now 200 yards away from a very nice buck.

I picked my spot, boom, and the rest was history.






I couldn't be more proud of this buck. He had so much character to him. His ears were torn from right and his cutter was smashed too. He also had a massive head and white ivory tips.... just a beautiful old buck!







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I couldn't be any more pleased with the entire experience. New Mexico is honestly my favorite place on earth.

Now begins my 1300 mile trip home.




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Another great hunt.

I also picked up my 2017 elk mount today.... tell me this isn't AWESOME!











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Impressive Euro.

I like the patriotic theme and Zia symbol.

Is 17 your 17th biggame animal or 17th deer?

Awsome mount

bobbydean said:

Impressive Euro.

I like the patriotic theme and Zia symbol.

Is 17 your 17th biggame animal or 17th deer?

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I love how it turned out, the guy who did this all did a great job.
The 17 was for 2017.

duckhunt said:

Awsome mount

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Thank you!

Duh! The year never entered my mind. Thanks.

**This is going to be long, so please stick with me as I'll need several posts to tell the whole story **

We all have aspirations, desires, and things we dream about doing some day, and the majority of those things never come to fruition. Ever since I saw my first wild bull moose in the mountains of Northeast Washington, I knew I wanted to hunt them. I was extremely blessed to have had many encounters with the massive beasts while working one of the most unique jobs in the military. I've seen bulls nearly kill each other during the rut, and even hit one in the head with a snowball once. The thing that drew me to them more than anything was how unpredictable they are. I knew they'd be a challenge to hunt, and I couldn't wait for the opportunity.

When I moved to Idaho, I had to take advantage of the opportunity. I did a ton of research trying to figure out which units I would put in for. After a lot of deliberating I put in for the unit which had the best mix of success rate and highest historical draw odds. I knew the unit was rugged, had terrible access, and a low moose population, but I didn't really care. I put it on my application... And as luck would have it, 18 other people had the same idea as me, but I still drew the tag.

When I was able to get up to the unit for a scouting trip, my expectations were... crushed. It was far worse than I thought it would be. The vegetation was almost impenetrable, the terrain was far steeper than I anticipated, and the trail access only lead to more steep and impenetrable areas. It sucked.

This doesn't at all mean that I was going to hang it up and quit; it just helped me set my mind straight and have realistic expectations. I was prepared to spend up to 4 weeks in the unit without seeing a single moose. I've grown accustomed to being able to cover ground and seek out my game, so it was going to be tough sitting in only a handful of spots waiting for the action to come to me.

I would be hunting solo for the first 3-6 days depending on when my buddy from Spokane would be coming down, so my plan was to check out the 3 spots I'd be hunting and solidify my game plan for the rest of the hunt. I was going to sit in those spots all day and call every 30 minutes to an hour.

I mention all of this because I want to try to paint the picture of what my state of mind was going into this hunt.

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I had a bit of a rough start to my moose hunt. Thursday after work I was doing an ops check on my truck and found both of my lower ball joints were worn out. I would have normally done the work myself, but I had a lot of other things I needed to get done. I.e. packing, food prep, recheck the zero on my rifles, and most importantly spend some time with the wife and kids.

I dropped the truck off at the shop as soon as they opened on Friday with the hope they would get it done by noon so I could pick it up during lunch… Well they didn't finish until 4, so my departure was set back a few hours. I was also slowed down by an insane number of whitetail does chillin on the roads. I could have easily killed 5 deer with my truck on the way to the mountains. I didn't get to camp until 230am. After I had the bare essentials setup, I distinctly remember setting my alarm and it telling me I had 1hr 31min before the wake up.

Well, about an hour into my sleep I was woken by a combination of excitement and the disappointment from hearing the pitter patter of rain on my tent… I hit snooze about 5 times, but the rain wouldn't stop. Begrudgingly, I pulled myself out of my sleeping bag and through on all of my gear. I was MOOSE hunting, no time for waiting on the weather to improve.

The hike back to what I'll refer to as “The Hill” was 2 miles along an overgrown trail. By the time I got to the opening I was soaking wet. For whatever reason I thought I could get by without rain pants for the hike. It's been a few years since I've really needed to be concerned about the rain, and it was a rookie mistake. I should have known better.



I sat for a few hours the first morning before I got too cold and bored to take it anymore. I spent the next few hours walking around The Hill looking for any fresh sign of moose. I didn't find any evidence of moose being there recently, but I knew from talking with the local outfitter that the area I was in would only get better as time went on.

I did see lots of bear and wolf sign though. Even found them together...





What the area lacked in moose sign, it sure made up for in amazing natural beauty.







I warmed myself by a small hardwood fire, as the sun set over my first day of moose hunting. I knew I was in for the adventure of a lifetime, and if it was going continue to be like the first day, I was in for a tough but awesome hunt. I returned back to camp cold, wet, and tired, but optimistic.

When my alarm went off extra early on day 2 I was infinity grateful for the propane heater I bought last minute before I left. During all my years of training and instructing I woke up to wet or frozen clothing far too often, and just the thought of it makes me cringe with discomfort. Having that heater was a HUGE psychological win for me. There was no need to build a fire and spend hours drying myself and my gear before going to sleep. More sleep is more better.


Day 2’s plan was to explore a spot I scouted in the spring, but didn't really get too good of a look at. I packed up 2 days worth of food and everything I'd need to sleep on the ground that night. The drive from camp to the trailhead was about an hour and a half and I got there just as light was peaking through the rain clouds. It was going to be another soaker. (Don't worry, this time I wore rain pants)





To my surprise, the creek was full of spawning cutthroat trout. It was amazing to watch the hundreds of fish do their thing. I watched the fish for around an hour before I pressed on up the creek bottom… And what a nightmare that was. When I was last there in June, the thimbleberry, stinging nettle, and devil's club hadn't grown up yet so travel was a little easier in the spring. I also made a bad call and tried to travel of trail to see if I could find anything worthwhile. All I found was bear scat, bear tracks, bear beds, and an insane amount of giant dead cedar trees. *It took me 4 hours to walk just 2 miles to the overlook I wanted to get to.





Once their I dug in, and got ready for a long day and night. The view was absolutely beautiful, but it didn't offer much as far as spotting and shooting opportunities. The vegetation was far too thick, and there were only a few clearings I could see through to the forest floor.



I sat under a large fir tree for almost 8hrs and only saw one raghorn bull elk just before sunset. It was another slow, wet, cold and windy day. As I was getting ready to fall asleep in my sleeping bag, the only good and encouraging thing from day 2 happened; I got a text on my inreach from my buddy telling me he was going to be coming at the end of the next day.

With the lack of moose sign and sign of anything other than bear, I decided to pack my stuff up and go back to The Hill and spend the entire day there. Hopefully the weather would make a turn for the better.

The long ride back to camp in a warm truck followed by a hot Mountain House meal, and knowing my buddy would be there there next day was very encouraging. I slept like a rock that night.

sn.outdoors - awesome photos! As concerns the fish, those red ones you see are Kokanee Salmon. I see one real nice cutthroat in there, but they're spring spawners.

vanish said:

sn.outdoors - awesome photos! As concerns the fish, those red ones you see are Kokanee Salmon. I see one real nice cutthroat in there, but they're spring spawners.

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That's what I thought too, but a local fisherman had me convinced me they were cutthroats. The facts just weren't lining up in my mind. Haha. I was very much concerned about other things at the time, so I just took him at his word.

Despite my optimism that the weather would improve, mother nature had other plans. I woke up to the sounds of strong winds, and a mix of rain, snow, and slush beating against my tent. Great… another day of wonderful weather. There was a significant drop in temperature and a crusty but wet layer of snow on everything, and to my dissatisfaction, my boots hadn't completely dried the night before. Nonetheless, I saddled up, and headed down the trail to The Hill.

I knew I was in for a treat when the wind died down and the sun took forever to welcome in the day. Just for fun, I ranged everything I could see…. Everything was 50yds away according to my rangefinder. At least I wouldn't have much time to get excited by spotting a bull from outside my comfortable shooting range.



I did a little wandering to check out why there were a million crows hanging out in a few spots and I found this nice bull carcass.



It's a shame they left so much neck meat on the animal. I know it's not required by law to take it, but there are a few meals worth of meat there and I hate to see it go to waste. What made it even harder for me to understand was the fact it was only 30yds off the trail and less than 2 miles of easy walking back to the road.


Since the weather wasn't looking like it was going to get much better, I made a little nest of boughs under a giant fir tree. As the weather got worse, I slowly moved my nest further and further under the tree.





I got text from my buddy, Cory, around 1400 that he was headed my way. I told him where to meet me, and I patiently waited for him to arrive. He promised to bring clear skies and warmth, but that's the exact opposite of what happened.

[video=youtube;0GhKJ2E2z4M]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0GhKJ2E2z4M[/video]

Cory got to my camp and started down the trail. He would have made it to my spot with plenty of daylight, but the snow knocked all of the slash alder down over the trail. That made for a much tougher hike than I described to him. I also told him he would easily see me, and if not, I would definitely see him. Well, that was before the snow rolled in. I could no longer see the trail.



Just before the sunset, I spotted a dark object enter the trees along the trail heading my direction. I had no idea what it was, but I definitely knew it was something. I figured it was either Cory, a bear, or a moose. So I waited for it to come out, but it never did. Before the snow could cover up the tracks and the light was completely gone, I ran over to the trail to investigate. Sure enough, it was Cory. He walked out to the edge of the trees and couldn't see me so he turned around.

It was a long, lonely, and wet walk back to camp that night, but I was great to know a good buddy was back there waiting for me. Despite the bad weather, and being cold and wet for the first three days, I found solace in knowing I would no longer be suffering alone. My buddy was there, and we would suffer together.

I'll keep day 4 short since it was basically the same as day 3, but with nicer weather and more opportunities to pull the camera out. It was also great to have Cory there to fend off the boredom. We didn't see any animals until we were packing up our stuff to head back to camp. A group of 5 elk came to join us on the meadow, one of them was a really nice bull, but it was too dark for photos. Finally! Some animals.










If there's one photo that sums up what it felt like to be out there the first few days, this is it. Cold, lonely, and bored.


At least the weather finally cleared and there would be a high pressure system overhead for the next 3-4 days. Things were looking up.

Day five, curiosity got the better of me. I needed a change of scenery.

We hiked out to The Hill for a morning sit. Just before we got to our spot, we saw 2 does and 2 fawns feeding in the drainage below our tree, and one fawn nibbling on the branches from my nest under the fir tree. In less than 12hrs my animal sightings increased tenfold.

We sat under the tree until 10 before we'd had enough. I wanted to go down to the creek and see if we could find any fresh tracks.

No more than 1/2 a mile down the road from camp we came across the 3rd set of moose tracks I'd seen so far on the trip.



There are a few flat, swampy areas along the main creek that looked like ideal moose habitat, so I had to check them out.



Not surprisingly, there was moose sign just about everywhere, but nothing fresh enough to really scream at me that moose were there at the time. But it was very clear moose had been there and were coming and going at random. In addition to the moose sign, it was also very aesthetically pleasing.



While down on the creek I also wanted to gain some intel from some of the fly fisherman. One of the gentleman I spoke with had been fishing the creek every fall for the last thirty plus years and helped point us to where he'd seen the most moose and bear sign. We thanked him for his insight and watched jealously as he fished all day without a worry in the world. Cory and I made several comments about how we couldn't wait to retire and have the opportunity to hunt and fish all the time. But then I kind of realized how fortunate I've been to actually be able to spend so much time in the field both at work and on my own time. I've been blessed.

This will be me someday...


No more than 10 minutes after the fisherman was around the bend in the creek, I spotted what I thought was a bear along the edge of the willows. But when I pulled my binos up to my eyes, the dark spot was gone... Hmmm, must have been a stump. So I put down my binos and continued taking pictures of the beautiful place we were in.

A few minutes later, as we were debating whether or not to keep walking down the trail or head back to the truck to go sit on The Hill, Cory confirmed my hunch and spotted a bear eating elderberries down along the creek.



So I grabbed my rifle and ran down the trail to get closer, but when I got around the corner the bear was gone. He was no longer standing up, and he disappeared into the thick brush. I decided to spend the rest of the afternoon waiting him out, but I never saw him again.

Even though we didn't see any animals that night, it was one of those afternoon sits you dream of. It was quiet but not still, and there was a cool, crisp feeling to the air. With the sound of the creek calmly flowing past us, the sight and smell of fall filling the air I couldn't help but think of how lucky I was to be living the life I was.



Our plan for the morning was to get back to this spot and maybe relocate the bear.

Cory and I were feeling pretty good about day six since we'd already seen more animals in the last 24hrs than I'd seen the first 72 combined. I also decided to make a rifle change. I switched to my old, trusty .257wby. The rifle I carried the first few days had gotten soaked and I just wasn't positive how well the bore had been protected. Plus my weatherby has been nothing but a killing machine. It's never let me down, and I wasn't expecting any far shot opportunities.

We set the alarms extra early, and ended up beating the sun to our spot by more than an hour. I let out a few long cow calls in hopes a bull somewhere nearby in the thick woods would hear us and step out for a peak, but by the time 11 o'clock rolled around we'd seen zero animals. We decided to head back to camp for lunch and go to The Hill for the evening sit.

As we were eating lunch and talking about the plan, we had a change of heart. We figured our best bet of seeing some action would be to sit along the creek for a few more days. There was more fresh bear sign down there and more moose sign all together. I would have gladly shot any bear that decided to step out. So we loaded into the truck and drove the increasingly sloppy road back down to the bottom.

When we got to the bottom we saw Dan Everson, the outfitter I spoke with in June, tending his horses and mules. So I figured I would say hi and let him know how things were going. He was glad to see I hadn't given up on the unit. It's not everyday that a guide or outfitter offers free advice on an area, but he basically reaffirmed what I had already known. The unit was tough, the moose were in very few numbers, and that I was hunting in the best spots the unit had to offer... (That didn't mean they were "good" spots)

According to Dan, (and all of the physical sign) The Hill was a better late season spot, since it's a wintering area for the moose. He said they'll pass through there through all year, but it gets better later in the season. The tips and insight Dan and his guide Jeff gave me were extremely helpful in solidifying my expectations. I knew I had to continue to be patient, and keep putting in my time. It would happen eventually, and if it didn't I could always put in for a tag again next year.

After shooting the breeze for a little while, Dan offered to let us come down to his camp for a hot meal, and a shower... I don't know if it was because we smelled bad enough for him to feel bad for us or if he thought we were genuinely nice guys, but we gladly accepted his invite and told him we'd see him later that night.

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We headed down the trail and decided to head further down than we had the night before just to explore some new country. The further up the creek we went, the less sign there was. The terrain choked in on the creek, and visibility through the brush decreased to just a few yards. We decided to head back to the spot we saw the bear.

It was turning out to be just like all of the days before... uneventful. The wind was picking up and it didn't seem like things were moving much. So we started making our plans for the next day. Just as the sun was hitting the top of the mountain, Cory pointed and said, "what's that?"

I turned and saw what appeared to be a large log poking out of the grass and overhanging a small bog. I didn't remember seeing that particular log before. So I stared at it for a few seconds baffled, before I pulled up my binos.

HOLY CRAP!!! It was a bull moose... just standing there! 200yds away!!! I imagined a moose would have been easier to pick out in that grass, but he was tough to see even with binos.

Just like on my mule deer hunt last year with Cory, I looked at him and said, "it's a bull. I'm shooting it."

At this point all logical thought left my mind. Remember after my elk hunt how I said I do a really good job of keeping a cool and level head in the heat of the moment? Well that all went out the window in this moment. I grabbed my weatherby and beat feet down to the bull. I don't know why I ran, or really why I did any of what I did, but the next thing I remember is looking through the scope at the bull and seeing a droptine.

It was happening! It felt like my mind was in some kind of third person state of being. I was in the moment, but it felt as though I had no control over my body.

The bull turned broadside and came up out of the bog, and all I remember was thinking I needed to shoot for the lungs because I was shooting a small caliber rifle. As soon as my crosshair found its mark, the rifle went off. I nailed him! I'll never forget the huge shockwave of water that sprayed off his hide after my tiny little bullet, going somewhere in the neighborhood of 3400fps, struck the side of that massive beast. Since he was still on his feet, quartered to me, I racked another round into the chamber and put in into his onside shoulder. After the second shot, he did a backflip and landed in the beaver pond he just come out of. After all of the commotion of me running, and the massive animal splashing into the water, the woods fell silent.

HE WAS DEAD!

We wouldn't be making it to Dan's camp for dinner. Cory and I had our work cut out for us.



I'm glad I had a mule along to help get the moose out of the water.











It was an amazing moment. I couldn't have been more happy to punch my once in a lifetime tag and put it on this bull, and not because he's a unique bull, but because of the entire experience. Having Cory there to share the moment was very special.



The last time I was this excited was probably after I killed my first deer. I couldn't stop smiling.... Still can't.

We hardly noticed that our legs and feet were completely soaked and covered in a mixture of mud and blood, nor did we care that the temps were dropping and it was getting late. We took our time and did our best to enjoy every part of the experience. I told Cory, "I can't believe it happened," "I can't stop smiling," and "I just killed a bull moose!" about a million times.

We had the bull de-boned, caped, and our first load packed out and back to camp by midnight. We ate a double portion of Mountain House and slept like kings. We didn't set any alarms. It didn't matter when we woke up.

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My excitement had me awake at 630, but I forced myself to get a little more sleep. Cory didn't have the same problem. He was sawing logs like his life depended on it. When 830 rolled around I heard a truck coming up to the saddle, so I threw on my blood covered pants and my camp shoes.

The truck belonged to Dan and he stopped to say hey. I apologized for not making dinner last night and told him we got a little busy and had a bull down. He was genuinely excited for me and said, "well... Let's see some pictures!"

I shared the story with him and he congratulated me on killing a nice bull in a tough unit.

As luck would have it, his guides Jeff and Dave were packing some feed to an elk camp that day, and they'd be passing by where we had the moose down. Dan offered to pack out the meat for me, and Cory and I enthusiastically accepted. I may not be a smart man, but I do know a good deal when I see it. Cory and I could have packed the moose out ourselves without too much trouble, but since we both jump out of airplanes and have a history of back problems we were very happy to save our backs for another hunt.

Although, they were willing to pick the meat up down by the creek, Cory and I felt obligated to bring everything up to the trail so Jeff wouldn't be too inconvenienced by us.

The weather was beautiful and made for some awesome pictures.

We brought one of my favorite snacks along for when we waited for the mules.

Way to stick at it! That is a great bull even if it were a unit with lots of animals!