Around 9:45 this morning, while picking the last of the corn in the garden, I heard excited voices from what sounded like a nearby dirt road. I couldn’t understand them but the excitement was unmistakable. I grabbed my camera, pen and paper and jumped in the truck in search of successful hunters. I drove half or three-quarters of a mile out West Lake Road but didn’t see or hear anyone.
I’ve done a little moose calling here at home. There’s nobody around to hear or see me so it doesn’t matter if I make a complete fool of myself. I’m learning. I’m not great at grunting but apparently, I’m not terrible at it either.
What the heck. There wasn’t anyone around to see me. I parked the truck just past a small four way intersection. I stood in the middle of the West Lake Road with a gravel side road in front of me and an overgrown grassy road behind, and I grunted. Nothing. I grunted again, this time a little deeper and louder. Still nothing. I looked up and down the road to be sure I didn’t have an audience. One more time, then I needed to get back to the garden. “Wuh. Wuh. Wuh.”
I heard the sharp snap of a branch giving way under pressure from beyond the gravel road. “Wuh Wuh.” I thought I saw a little movement. “Wuh wuh wuh.” More movement.
Oh my gawd. Now what? I don’t have a moose permit. I couldn’t do anything with this moose. I debated with myself for a few seconds. Keep doing this or quit? I wasn’t sure of the right thing to do. The only way I can shoot a moose is with my Canon. Keep grunting or get back in the truck? I grunted again.
I waited but he didn’t step into sight. He had to have seen me standing there in the middle of the road. I was kind of goofing off. I didn’t expect to be close enough to a moose to be heard, and I especially didn’t think it was going to answer me. I walked back to the safety of the truck and grunted again. I didn’t see him for the next five or six minutes. I grunted, and got my camera out and ready to go. While I waited, I called my uncle. His brother-in-law and nephew are here to hunt. I left voice mail telling him exactly where I was, and that I was watching a small bull.
I couldn’t see or hear the moose so I took a few steps toward the intersection to see if he’d gone back into the trees. He was there, almost to the main dirt road. I grunted and this time he grunted back. Ohh…I wasn’t expecting that. I took a few steps backward to the open truck door. He came close enough to the road to see him through saplings growing on the corner.
Oops. I didn’t stop to focus. He’s there, through the blur.
He walked into the road, turned his head and looked at me. I forgot about the camera for a minute. He started to walk away so I said “Hey…” He stopped, barely glanced my way, and started to walk away again. “Hey moose…” I spoke quietly. He was already bored with me.
I was never as close as the photos make it seem, and I was always between the open door of the truck and the driver’s seat. I had a 70-300mm lens on the camera.
A five point yearling bull.
The entire adventure took about 10 minutes from when I heard the first crack until he walked away. I spent very little time actually watching him but it was still very exciting! I need more practice grunting. I can’t do a cow call yet, but I’ll learn. I hope I need it when I get my permit next year.
And then he was gone…
He walked into the road, turned his head and looked at me. I forgot about the camera for a minute. He started to walk away so I said “Hey…” He stopped, barely glanced my way, and started to walk away again. “Hey moose…” I spoke quietly. He was already bored with me.
I was never as close as the photos make it seem, and I was always between the open door of the truck and the driver’s seat. I had a 70-300mm lens on the camera.
