Last week’s moose hunt proved truly extraordinary, and not just because I’d waited 31 years to have my name drawn for a permit.
As I wrote in my article a week or so after the June 15 lottery, I got all my wishes; the September season, a bull tag, and zone 6, the territory right around my home! In the end it wasn’t even the successful conclusion that put the cherry on the sundae, it was my hunting partner, a handful of dear friends and even a couple of local businesses that tied the whole hunting package together with a joyful, memorable ribbon I’ll cherish to the end.
Bit by bit, piece by piece, I collected and stockpiled all the items that would certainly be needed if the hunt lasted only a few hours or the full week. By design I upgraded my decades old binoculars to a new set of Swarovski 8 X 42 EL with a built in rangefinder. By chance I came across a rare 50-plus year old Saco 300 H & H rifle with an FN action topped with a 3 X 9 Leupold scope, and the price was a steal.
Federal’s Premium Vital Shok 180 grain bullets with trophy bonded tips were my shell of choice. My very first test shot from the shooter’s bench hit dead center of the X-ring on the target. Follow up rounds fired at increasingly longer yardage proved rifle and ammo combo to be a tack driver on paper. Now all I needed was a moose.
During the week prior to my hunt several friends called to offer assistance. Not advice or lip service, but real hands on help; some would scout, others volunteered equipment and trailers, and a few promised to be just a phone call away — regardless of how early or late the hour, to help handle the downed moose. Sunday evening the truck was loaded with guns, optics, and ammo; ropes, pulleys and come-alongs; tarps, chainsaw, cutlery, bucksaw, sharpening tools and more. Anticipation peaked, anxiety rose and sleep proved as elusive as the big bull moose in any sportsman’s dreams.
Buddy Horr of Dedham was my sub-permittee, as I had been his on two previous hunts in zone 6, as well as playing guide for his son Brian’s successful first moose venture last fall. Now I was the shooter and the burden seemed heavier. Twenty minutes after leaving my house at 5:45 a.m. our hearts accelerated, then plummeted when s large dark, distant shape crossing a grain field turned out to have no antlers after we checked with binoculars. Answering my cell phone, minutes later, Bob Lento of Mars Hill informed me a small bull was standing in a swale, just outside of town. A lost cause; we agreed I was too far away and the moose possibly too close to municipal limits.
Another single large cow, then two pair of bulls and cows, one frustrating, unsuccessful stalk and some hopeful but fruitless moose calling filled most the first day. At roughly 6 p.m. my cell phone rang and Rod Mahan, another enthusiastic scout, reported two cows and the largest bull he’s seen all year. I was 10 or 12 minutes from his location but said I’d hurry.
When I was less than a mile away, I slowed for a sharp 90-degree corner and right there ahead of me stood a moose. One hundred yards away along a field edge the moose watched us stop and stood as we checked him out with binoculars and range finder. It took 30 seconds for me to count six points on a five or six hundred pound animal and decide to pass,—it might be a Friday shot, but not a Monday. Of course when we finally reached the field where Rod was watching, all the moose had wandered off, and so ended day one.
Day two
Tuesday’s rain and wind proved worse and more bothersome than the first day and despite many miles and much calling the morning was a complete bust. My cousin Steve Hitchcock called to report a bull moose in a grain field, but once again I was in the wrong place at the wrong time! During a particularly heavy mid-afternoon shower Buddy spotted a large cow roughly 60 yards away in a power line cut, right beside a no trespassing sign. No matter, we needed a specimen with horns.
Tom Tardiff, a longtime friend and registered guide from Robinson, met Buddy and I about 3 p.m. to check out a region abundant with moose enticing cuttings. Sure enough, Tom spotted a bull about 5:30 p.m., but try as we might only the large rack and part of the head could be seen. I changed locations, adjusted the scope and Buddy used the cow call to no avail. The brush proved too thick, the wind was against us, and finally the head and horns turned and disappeared quickly with no good shot available.
To add insult to injury, Rod Mahan called 5-minutes later to report another moose sighting. I was at least 30 minutes away with no chance to be there in time. Rod got within 25 yards of the bull and took video with his phone to authenticate his sighting. Day two slowly slid from dusk into darkness without a shot fired.
Day three
At 6:15 a.m., Buddy and I spotted three moose 400 yards off in a pasture, but they were gone when our stalk culminated, once more the wind gave us away. Wet and weary already, we trudged back to the truck, but as I prepared to unload my rifle a bull appeared from the woods 500 yards across the field. We snuck through the trees and bushes, Buddy used the cow call, we angled downwind and finally at roughly 200 yards my .300 H & H boomed and sealed the deal at 6:45 a.m.
Four phone calls and 30 minutes later Rod, Steve, Bob and Tom joined Buddy and I to celebrate and lend a hand. Bob and Tom dressed the moose, Buddy and I got out chains and cables and Rod threaded his small Jeep through the trees to hook onto the heavy animal. Steve had his trailer backed in and ready so in less than an hour the bull was cleaned, loaded and tied down for transport.
Next stop, Ben’s Trading Post’s new Main Street location for registration, tagging, and weighing. And boy, were they organized, well manned, and ready for business. Ben Sr. ran the store, Darlene handled the moose paperwork, and Ben Jr. with two helpers took care of the scales, tooth extraction, and photography. There were two moose on site when I arrived, four waiting when I left and unless you were shopping no one spent more than 20 minutes on site.
My final stop, and a crucial one for any moose meat connoisseur, was the meat cutter. Word of mouth and a top-notch brochure made SPW Meat Cutting on Pulcifer Road in Mapleton a simple choice. Cold storage aging, vacuum packing with tag number and cut of meat labeling, and sausage making, as well as caping and antler taxidermy care provided at a very reasonable price. Troy and Tabitha Haines and their well trained crew offer top notch service, efficiency, and will even deliver the finished product anywhere along the I95 corridor in Maine. I can’t wait for my first taste of tenderloin!
Ask me years from now what I remember most about 2013 moose hunt and it will still be my friends and companions. The event is short-lived, even a bit anticlimactic, but the memories and photos will last as long as I do.
