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For the first time in 4 years, I drew a moose tag in my favorite area. Actually four of us, all related, applied for what is termed a 'shared hunt'. All names get entered into the game department computer and, when the draw is done, as soon as one of the group's name comes up, the group gets 2 tags.

So we headed north a couple days before the season opener. The 500 mile trip took all day, including stops for groceries, extra gas, and so on, and we got into deep snow for the last 30 miles. But we made it to camp and the weather itself was very pleasant for the week we were there.

The season was still not open for the first full day we were there. So we commenced to do some serious scouting. Since the snow was recent, we knew the tracks we encountered meant moose in the area and we were optimistic. Even at that, there was only one cow spotted that day. We did, however, find lots of other hunters arriving, setting up camp, and beating paths in the deep snow on various narrow roads.

It was our plan to try and discover some hidden/little known meadows away from the roads. This turned out to be a good idea, since almost all the hunting activity was confined to the roads. We checked out numerous likely looking spots by plowing our way into the woods wherever we saw what could be a little opening or start of a drainage pattern. We got wore plumb out by following these wild goose chases, but finally discovered meadows a half mile off the road in a couple different places.

Having found one particularly good looking meadow in the middle of day 2, my one cousin and I decided to hunt it that evening. He was to approach it about half way along the length and I would follow a drainage down into it at one end, about 1/2 mile from my cousin. The hope was that I would scare a bull toward his position.

After sneaking several hundred yards, I heard the unmistakable gurgle of a moose alarm call; I had been busted and a moose was heading for the meadow. He provided me with a glimpse from a couple hundred yards only long enough to allow gender identification but not long enough for a shot. However, after a tense wait of a couple minutes, the welcome shot from a rifle rang out. Our 'plan' had worked to perfection and the bull trotted into my cousin's waiting arms.

The moose was not a mature one but certainly big enough to have us work up a sweat. The shot was from 140 yards and the 30.06 bullet took out the top of the heart, certainly a fine shot. It was late in the day and almost dark by the time we finished field dressing him. So we propped him open to cool and left the carcass overnight, retrieving it early the next morning.

In 5 days of hunting, we saw only 2 bulls (too slow on the other one) and a few cows. Conditions were tough and we heard of just one other camp getting a bull. But we had a great time, as always, and learned how not to make coffee. Never, ever accidently use white cranberry juice instead of water - trust me.

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The rut is always an interesting time to hunt, or even just be an observer. This year I had the pleasure of watching a buck making his scrape, including rubbing his face in the branches of the overhanging tree, and a doe acting like the scrape was a barrel of catnip a couple days later. There were also lots of bucks on the prowl, looking for receptive does and bothering the heck out of them whenever they had a chance.

One morning, I spotted a buck in the company of a couple does and decided I should try for him. It meant a stalk across some very sparsely vegetated land, but they weren't acting like they wanted to come to me. Using some scattered mature pine trees to screen me, I began to creep gradually closer. It took some time to get within 50 yards, but when I did, the buck suddenly wandered in my direction. I could only act like one of the trees, being totally without cover at that moment. He didn't seem to notice me and stopped broadside at 22 yards.

Cooperatively, he turned his head and looked away from me. That produced the needed opportunity to draw and settle my pin half way up his side. The arrow passed through him and landed softly on the ground beyond. He immediatley wheeled away and half-heartedly trotted about 45 yards. There, he toppled over and expired, still within my sight.

This happened on November 7, a full week before the rut normally seems to be in full swing. I'll be interested to see if it ends sooner or simply lasts longer than usual. My next hunting won't be until the last part of November now, the late archery season for does.

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From November 25 to December 10, the hunting season winds down with a late archery season. During this time only, a hunter is allowed to shoot a doe. Often there is still some rutting activity and I always enjoy getting out in the snow and seeing what this time of year has to offer.

Having several great vantage points up my sleeve, I had no shortage of opportunities. However, with a buck and a third of a moose already in the freezer, no more meat was required. So, on several occasions, I just sat and watched as the deer filed past me. The above photo is one of the does that came well within range and which I watched leave at her own leisurely pace.

It was a fine year.