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I have been hunting with a recurve
for about 7 years now and with a compound for about 10 years
before that. In all those years, despite taking elk, bear,
whitetails, mule deer and sheep, I had never harvested a moose
with my bow. Not for lack of trying either. Moose were my
nemesis. That was finally going to change.
October 2nd promised to be a beautiful fall day
after an unusual amount of precipitation in the month preceding.
It was a perfect day for hunting birds and maybe having a wiener
roast with the kids. I was in the middle of making breakfast and
packing a lunch when the phone rang. It was Kelly on his cell
phone. Kelly owns a farm in the W.M.U. that I got drawn for
moose in. " Guess what I'm looking at right know." he
said excitedly. After I assured him that I had no idea, he told
me he was watching two young bull moose sparring with a cow
watching them from nearby. This was all on the back of Kelly's
property! I told him I couldn't make it over until I was done
with breakfast Kelly told me that the way the bulls were acting
and the fact there was a cow, probably in heat, with them that
there was no way they were going very far in the next few hours.
I arrived at Kelly's place 1 1/2 hours later. After
checking the wind and getting the kids settled in the house, we
set out on a cut line that would take us right to were the bulls
had been. The plan was to call once we got near to where they
were last spotted. About half way there we had to cross a short
piece of muskeg. In the back of my mind I thought the moose
might head for the cool of the muskeg on such a warm day, but I
chose to ignore my instinct. A I was walking through the swamp I
was looking past it trying to make sure that we didn't bump the
moose by getting to close Kelly was about five steps
behind me when I suddenly heard him whisper something. I turned
around and asked "What?" " RIGHT THERE!!"
he hissed, pointing into the thick willows and swamp spruce. I
tried to see see what he was pointing at, but all I could see
were trees, so I took a step backwards and I could make out some
black!
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As I took
another few steps back I could make out the outline of a small
bull at about 15 yards! Kelly really meant 'right there!!' I
franticly looked for an opening to shoot through. I stared to
panic as I realized that there was no hole. That bull was not
going to stand there forever! Out of desperation I put my head
down were my knees were and found a break in the willows, just
big enough that I could probably get an arrow through; if I was
lucky. I wasted no time in canting my bow parallel to the ground
and 18" above the ground. I remember drawing back and
suddenly the arrows was there, right at the bulls elbow. As the
bull spun and ran all heck broke loose as a cow, calf and
another bull ran across the line. Two whitetails also started
snorting behind us. We were left shaking our heads in amazement
at how quickly things had happened, the fact that I had walked
right by the bull and the shot I had just pulled off. " I
could never had made that shot with a compound!" was all
Kelly could muster.
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"Kelly really
meant 'right there!!" |
We watched the line for a few
minutes, just to make sure my bull didn't follow the others,
before heading back to the house. ( Which I could see from were
I shot ) We had a coffee and gave the bull the mandatory 1/2
hour before starting the tracking job. There was almost no blood
trail to speak of but that really didn't matter as the bull only
traveled about 60 yards. Once the congratulations, back
slapping, picture taking and field dressing were complete my
friend Dave showed up with his four-wheeler to haul the moose to
the skinning pole. I had called him from the house. He was on
his way home from his own close encounter and was more than
happy to swing by and help me out.
The total elapsed time from when we
left the yard to when we were back in the house was probably
somewhere around 20 minutes, so it seemed like the shortest
moose hunt ever but in reality this hunt had stared 17 years
ago. It had been a long, fulfilling journey. He's not the
biggest moose but, being my first with archery tackle, I'm just
tickled that I got him with a recurve and long after those
delicious, tender, butterball moose steaks are gone: I'll
remember the cool-under-pressure, purely stickbow shot I made.
Sometimes the animal isn't the trophy. The memories are!
Written By: Randy Herman
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