I dropped the truck into gear and looked at the time on the dashboard. It read 10:06 p.m. We had about an hour’s ride back to camp from deep within the North Maine Woods. 656 feet of rope was heaped in a jumbled pile along with the rest of the retrieval equipment in the bed of the truck – winch, ramps, snatch blocks, chainsaw; I’d sort it out later or more likely tomorrow back at the lodge. What was most important was nestled in the center; a big bull moose I first laid eyes on exactly four hours earlier.
The hunt
I met my clients Jake & Gary Holmes before the arrival supper on Sunday at Fish River Lodge in Eagle Lake, Maine. Bennett’s Guide Service was the host and operator for our October bull moose hunt and Wayne needed a hand with a full client roster. I was happy to help and work with an old friend.
Gary was the sub-permittee and had been moose hunting before, taking a nice bull years ago. His son Jake had been on a moose hunt before but never had a chance to connect – he was my permit holder and both Gary and I were determined to see Jake get his shot.
We rolled out of camp Monday morning heading to a few locations I had success in the past and had recently scouted during the September bull hunt. Jake, Gary and I quickly developed a comfortable rapport.
We covered a lot of ground, set up on lots of good sign but the bulls were not responsive. Tuesday morning we headed to a new location with much of the same. For the afternoon hunt, I decided to head to a big valley with a brook running through the bottom that is a very moosey spot – it may not be in the dictionary but I can assure you it is a word in guide vernacular.
I set up at the northwest corner of the valley where the wind was in our favor. I could feel a front slowly moving in, the wind blowing steady from the southeast and the far ridgeline darkening. I called my guts out to no avail. But I knew there was a bull hanging up down on the floor of the valley around that brook, I saw the fresh raking of sapling trees all the way in. I decided to move to the other side of the nearly mile-wide and two mile long ravine and try again.
We traveled roughly 625 yards when Gary told me to back up; he thought he spotted something down ridge. The road followed the drop off tight to the edge affording a decent view between patches of heavy cover. “It’s a cow” he said. Jake had a different angle and said he thought it as a bull. He said “I need you to put horns on it.”
I grabbed my binoculars, bailed out of the truck and skirted around to the valley side and scanned the floor. “It’s both. Bull to the right, a cow to the left 25 yards ahead of him headed east.”
I made sure Jake was in position and had the moose in his sights as I continued to glass the bull. Some quick back and forth ensued. Can we get him out of that valley? We don’t want to take a chance and lose him down there. Can you make a clean shot through the cover? Jake was confident in making the shot at over 200 yards so I simply said “He’s a great bull. If you can take him clean, it’ll be a long haul and a tough retrieve but we will do whatever it takes to get him out.”
His Remington Woodsmaster .30-06 boomed across the valley and I watched the moose go down.
The retrieval
It was a long slog uphill. Jake rigged a 3:1 mechanical advantage as I worked the capstan winch to help ease the moose up the nearly 130 feet elevation change to the truck. Every stump and blow down for over 200 yards challenged us. Then it started raining as dusk fell. We kept at it – cutting blow downs by headlamp light and slipping on everything that can get wet. Gary worked the radio, withstanding the cold rain and acted as my go between to Jake. Four hours of back-breaking, bone-wearying work later, Jake and his bull crested the hill and were at the truck.
I’ve never had a tougher retrieval, but it was worth every hard-earned inch and every drop of sweat left on that valley floor and hillside.