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Moose Story

(This account was written some x years after the fact.)

The location:

          Park:            Parc Matane, Quebec Canada

Territory:      ???

          Cabin:          ???

The hunters:

          Fred:            Soon to be known as ‘The Pessimist’.

Marcel:         Soon to be known as ‘The Optimist’.

          Bob:             Soon to be known as ‘Bear Bate’ or ‘Squeaky’.

          Rob:             Soon to be know as ‘The Walker’.

The weather: Sunny

Prologue:

This was our first moose hunting trip as a group. Marcel had been entering the ‘moose lottery’ for years before he was finally selected. Moose hunting in Parc Matane is ‘a once in a lifetime’ opportunity according to Marcel as the success rate there is almost 100%. This is not a typo; the success rate is almost 100%.

Before long, the group (minimum 3 hunters by regulation) was assembled, with Marcel being the only truly experienced moose hunter in our midst. In Quebec, you are notified that you are a moose lottery winner in February. This gives you until September, 6 long anticipation filled months, to plan your trip and to equip it. There’s the menu to plan – bring nothing but the best, this is a vacation so spoil yourself! There’s equipment to scrounge or to buy. Moose bullets to buy. Rifles must be sighted. You need to arrange for a rental trailer to transport your moose back. You’ll need an axe and chain saw to quarter the moose if you are unlucky enough to shoot it in a ‘jeep inaccessible’ area. Don’t forget the pulleys, a come-along and a block & tackle. And rope, lots and lots of rope. Bring a bone saw and knife sharpeners. Someone says that we should have a canoe in case we shoot one in the water – add a canoe to the list. And paddles. Don’t forget the life preservers and, yes, more rope. Buy topo maps of the area and pour over them for hours searching for just the right spot in your territory. (When you win the moose lottery, you are assigned an exclusive territory within the Provincial Park that you are hunting. You are not allowed to shoot a moose in another group’s territory and, unless it is an emergency, you're expected not to travel on a road that is in another territory during hunting hours.)

On and on it goes. Group meetings. Food lists. Telephone calls. Equipment checks. Clothing lists. Equipment lists. Trailer reservations. Emergency tool kit. Hunting licenses. Driving instructions. Food shopping. Knife, axe and saw sharpening. Boot water proofing. Survival kit preparation. Tire checks – spare tire too. Lists of lists. Check, cross check and double check.

Arrival at the Parc Matane – 8:00 am:

You are given a specific time to arrive at the park and don’t be late – more on this later. Upon arrival you are required to ‘check in’. What the park game wardens really want to do is ‘check you out’ before they let you in to their domain. Here is a partial listing of what they want from you before you set foot into their park: all of the hunter’s names and addresses, phone numbers, moose licenses, rifle makes, models and calibers, (.243 is the minimum caliber permitted for moose in Quebec) all of the vehicles makes, models and plate numbers, including those on the trailers and ATV’s. They verify your reservation, charge you for any extras such as an additional person brought along as ‘the cook’ – cooks are not allowed to carry a rifle but they are allowed to go along with the hunters. Then you are sent to be ‘oriented’.

‘Orientation’ is why you should not be late. A number of groups are given the same ‘check in time’ so that the wardens can cram you into a small conference room where they give you the ‘moose 101’ course. It begins something like this: ‘This is a picture of a male moose. This is a picture of a female moose. This is a picture of a calf. Don’t shoot a female or calf if you do not possess the special license entitling you to do so. Your group is not allowed to shoot 2 moose, so you must stay in contact while hunting. If you do shoot 2 moose…’ On and on it goes. There is one bonus to being oriented – they show you, on topo maps of each territory, where hunters said that they shot moose in previous years. Note that I said ‘… where the hunters said that they shot moose…’ Moose hunters lie, I know we did. The whole orientation plus check in takes about 2 hours, depending upon the number of groups that actually show up on time. (Not all parks offer such intensive orientation but Matane is different, it is the jewel of moose hunting territories in Quebec. There are so many moose there that it is a tourist attraction for non hunters. Hell, they even shoot ‘moose movies’ there!)

After orientation is completed, the parking areas around the orientation center take on the appearance of the starting of the Indy 500 with groups of hunters armed with jeeps, trailers and ATV’s all racing off at once to their assigned territory across the parks network of dirt roads – believe me, no one wants to be left trailing along behind in the dust cloud created.

We arrived at our cabin around noon. After off loading the equipment and provisions, it was decided that we would scout our territory with an eye toward selecting a spot for our afternoon/evening hunt. We all piled into one jeep and drove along the numerous logging roads that criss-crossed our territory. We’d stop and poke around likely spots searching for tracks or droppings. We discussed the surroundings and the likelihood of moose traveling through the area. We found many spots that looked real good and decided on one to return to later. I didn’t like it. The selected spot had a number of roads where the forest had been basically clear cut back about 200 yards on each side. I didn’t like it. These clear cuts, with their associated new growth, is where moose are reputed to hang out at feeding times, early morning and early evening. I didn’t like it. The atmosphere in the jeep was charged with enthusiasm (except for me) because you couldn’t travel a foot without seeing some kind of moose sign. Whether it was branches stripped from small trees or bushes or just plain old hoof prints, the whole place seemed to be alive with moose. We did not see any.

We returned to the cabin to unpack our rifles, change our clothes and pack provisions for our evening hunt. After a quick snack, we were off! We dropped Bob off first, near a tree stand we had found during our scouting – it gave him a super view of the area. Then we dropped off Marcel. Fred and I continued along for about half a mile where I dropped off. Fred continued along the road and disappeared from view.

There I was, standing in the middle of nowhere, looking for a moose in an area that I did not like. How ridiculous is this? I thought to myself. Why would a moose hang around here? There is no cover to hide behind. It’s clear cut for 200 yards in all directions. This is dumb. What am I doing here? Oh well, I guess I should make the best of it and maybe tomorrow we’ll find a more moosie area. I’ll walk through the clear cut to that little clump of trees they left standing in the middle. They (the cutters) must have had a problem over there or maybe they just didn’t like those trees. Who knows! Who cares! It will be a nice walk. Anyway, in about an hour and a half it will be time to go back to the cabin and this place will be just a bad memory.

The kill:

It was all over in 15 minutes.

15 minutes into the afternoon hunt of our first half day in Matane and an 850 pound 3 year old blond/brown bull lay dead on the ground, and, the hunt was over! We hadn’t even slept in our cabin yet.

This how it happened:

I loaded my rifle and set off through the grassy, stump riddled clear cut towards the small clump of trees which were about 100 yards from the road. There was about 100 yards of clear cut beyond the clump and then the uncut woods. I figured that I’d stand in amongst the trees in the clump. That way, I wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb – as I said before, there’s not much cover in a clear cut. After picking my way 50 yards through the stumps and grass covered branches something moved in the tall grass 75 yards to my right and 25 yards closer to the clump. I turned to see what seemed like a golden, giant moose stand from its bed in the tall grass. I was shocked! I’m certain that my jaw dropped in disbelief. The sun was at such an angle that it made the moose’s blond mane glow – it was truly a beautiful and breath taking sight that I will never forget. As I watch spell bound by the beauty of it all, the moose slowly walk toward the clump of trees. By the time I remembered that I was here to shoot this beautiful wild creature, he was just starting to pass behind the far side of the clump, heading for the forest beyond. I decided to make a beeline to my side of the clump to see if I could get a shot at him before he made it to the woods. I covered the 50 yards very quickly, and not very quietly. I stopped to take a looked. Shit! He made it to the woods! Oh well, he was too beautiful to shoot anyway. I dropped my knapsack and decided that I would stand around where I was for the remainder of the day. I looked at the forest line some 100 yards away and thought that if I saw a moose there, and shot, that I must take care to nail him well or he’d plunge into the dark forest, never to be seen again. What’s that, something is moving on the other side of the clump! It’s him! He didn’t even try for the woods. Why did he do that? He sees me! He’s heading for the forest. He’s moving slowly. Why? I’m going to shoot him! Look through the scope, twit! Safety off. He’ll be totally out from behind the clump soon! There he is! Shoot him behind the shoulder. BANG! He went down! This is easy! Oh no, he’s up! He’s going for the woods. Shoot him again, asshole! It’s never easy. BANG! I don’t want him to suffer. He’s having trouble walking! He stumbled. He’s down! He’s up again! SHOOT! BANG! He’s down! Go over to him! He’s still alive! This is sick! He’s looking at me. Shoot him in the brain! BANG! That did it, he’s gone. He doesn’t look beautiful any more… This is why we are here. Signal the others. Three shots, 30 seconds apart. BANG! BANG! BANG! OK, head for the road but mark this spot well. Leave the knapsack and rifle. It’s going to get dark soon. We’ve got to gut him. I’ve got to gut him. Yuck! How would it look if I didn’t? If you aren’t ready to gut it, no matter what, don’t pull the trigger, no matter what. I can do it. I’ll ask Fred to guide me through it. Got to get to the road.

Fred appeared - he was grinning from ear to ear. I gave him a brief blow by blow and then he left to pick up Bob and Marcel. This part is not clear in my memory. We all walked in to see the kill. Handshakes and hugs all around. Some pictures, I think. Then someone went to get the trailer we had left back at the cabin. The rest of us started to gut the moose. It's very hard work because a dead moose is very heavy to handle. Before long, after a lot of pushing, pulling, prying, and maybe some swearing, the moose was ready to be transported back to the cabin. Fred was able to pick his way though the stumps of the clear cut to get the jeep within a ropes distance from recently deceased. We tied one end of the rope to the jeep and the other to the moose's head - not the right thing to do. The moose's antlers were forever digging into the ground. Eventually we tied the rope to his hind legs and were able to drag his 850 lbs right into the trailer. Night had fallen without a sound…

On the drive back to the cabin, under a moonless, black, Gaspésie night sky, a female moose jumped out into the road in front of our jeep and we almost had a third passenger sitting in the front seat! Fred swerved, the moose swerved and we all gasped. We came within inches of having a very bad evening. The moose, it seemed, were out for revenge! None of us will ever forget the wild, panicked look in the eyes of that seriously frightened moose as it stared through the windshield of the jeep at us. I doubt that she will forget either. She ran down the road, in the beams of our headlights, for about 50 yards and then vanished into the woods before our very eyes - David Copperfield could have done no better.

Back at the cabin we hoisted the moose up the hanging pole and pried its’ chest open with a stick so that the cool nights air could circulate. Someone rubbed pepper over the exposed flesh to deter flies and skunks.

Into the cabin for supper, celebration and then to bed, only to relive the moment as we drifted off to sleep.

We stayed another day to explore the park and to take in its’ beauty, and then, we were gone.

The End.