2012 Minnesota Moose Hunt - The Story

[NoWiser]

Hey all,

I just recently found and joined this site while doing some research for my first elk hunt coming up in Wyoming this September. I like to do things on my own, so was instantly interested in all of the stories and information here. I figured I'd add my own in case anyone is interested in reading it. This is the story of my dad's 2012 Minnesota moose hunt in the BWCA Wilderness. In 2011 I shot an 11 1/2 year old bull in the same area, which led up to this hunt. So, here is the story:

The story actually started in 2011 when I was drawn for the moose hunt with a good buddy from college. We enlisted my dad for help and we had a very successful hunt. My dad enjoyed it so much that he decided to put in with a friend for the 2012 hunt. He talked about it much, but I tried to temper his excitement a bit knowing the odds of getting drawn were very slim. Sure enough, though, we were driving home from a weekend of walleye fishing last May and he got a call from my mom. He got drawn his first year applying! Both of us were just giddy that we had another adventure in front of us! There was also a bit of apprehension, knowing how much the trip hurt last year. Not enough to stop our excitement, though. The best part was that he was hunting the same zone I had the year before. The calls, emails, hours pouring over maps, and all other research was doen. He knew right where he wanted to go, so all that was left was training. I joined a gym and he started running. In the 5 months leading up to the hunt, we both got in the best shape we have been in years. We were ready. His friend ended up not being able to make it so his brother stepped up to help us, knowing the two of us would struggle getting a moose out alone.

Before we knew it, the moose orientation class was behind us and we were loading up the truck and ready to go. We took off the Thursday before moose opener and drove up as far as we could before we pulled off the road and set up a tent for the night. Early the next morning we were at the entry point and ready to go!

 

[NoWiser]

Day 1 - Friday - Moose Opener Eve

Although we would be hunting the same general area as the year before, we decided to use a different entry point. The previous one made it necessary to cross two very big lakes. This was a problem and LED to a dangerous situation when the wind kicked up on our way back, loaded with moose meat. We were not willing to risk this again, so decided on the alternate route. The downside was more portages, longer portages, and steeper portages. In total we would need to do 8 portages this first day to get to our predetermined campsite. I should mention that my dad's brother could not make it right off the bat due to work, so the two of us carried the majority of the camping and hunting gear, while he would join us on Sunday with the bulk of the food. Anyways, the first 3 portages went well and we were in good spirits. We met a couple on the far end of the third portage and talkedwith them for a while. From the sounds of it, things were about to get tougher for us. The 4th portage, a 100 rodder, was tough. We made it and had a bite to eat before we took off, eager to get to camp. With the low water levels, though, we had trouble finding the next portage. Finally we found a trail even though it wasn't exactly where the map showed. I threw on the biggest pack (about 80 pounds) and took off with my dad to follow carrying the canoe. Soon the trail petered out. I heard my dad yell "the trail is farther to the right", so I decided to take a shortcut over the hill hrough a burn. I soon found myself literally rock climbing with 4 hands to the top of the hill where the portage had to be. When I got to the top, there was nothing there but more rocks, blowdowns, and brush. Finally I decided I needed to head back to the canoe, and had to crawl down the same hill I just climbed up. This all took close to an hour and by the time I made it back to the canoe, I was SHOT. Before long we found the real portage and were on our way and over the next few hours we negotiated the remaining lakes and portages, including one that we affectionately named "F!*@*ing Portage #6" which is how we referred to it for the rest of the trip.

We got to camp in the eveing tired and sore, but with enough time to check out an area of interest on the map. We found more than enough moose sign, but nothing extremely fresh. Either way, it was a good sign that moose were using the area.

We made our way back to camp and enjoyed a Mountain House meal while watching the sun set across the lake. We crawled into the tent with no real plan for the next day. As we were falling asleep we could hear a moose walking through the water on the opposite shoreline. Another good sign.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 2 - Moose Opener!

After the grueling previous day, it was decided that no alarm clock would be set for the first day of the season. We had 16 days to hunt, and honestly, we really wanted to wait until my dad's brother (we'll call him Bob) got there to join us before we got too serious. After seeing 17 moose over the course of 5 days the year before, we were confident (maybe a little too confident) that we would get a moose, and were not overly concerned by waiting a day or two to start. So, we slept until it got light, and then threw some water on the fire to boil for oatmeal while we stretched our sore muscles and patched up blisters on our feet. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day, and we had some exploring to do. Here is a picture of our camp.

Our plan for the day was to scout out a few areas, and do some calling along the way. Speaking of calling, I guess now is as good of a time as any to explain our moose hunting strategy.

When it comes to Canada Moose during the rut, it is the cows that call the bulls to them. The cows have their territories and can be somewhat protective of them. When the rut hits, they let out a call that is hard to explain, but kind of sounds like a domestic cow bawling. It is very loud and you can hear it from a long ways away. During the rut, the bulls roam around, listening for a cow. When they hear one, they come in and stick with her until she is bred. Then they hit the trail, listeing for the next opportunity. This makes calling extremely effective for moose hunting. If you can duplicate the sounds of a cow moose, you can cover many square miles of country without so much as moving. You just need to be patient and wait for the bull to come to you. For this reason, our strategy was to find the best looking spot we could in an area, and do multiple sets of calls from it over the course of a couple days. Often the moose you see in the morning was actually called in the evening before, and is waiting when you get there. You can make the calls sound more realistic by breaking twigs and branches, and filling up your moose call (basically just a funnel to amplify the sound) with water and pouring it out to sound like a moose urinating. Bull grunts, in the right situation, can also be effective, but should be used with caution as they can scare away skittish bulls. All of this I learned from a DVD set called Gouthro's Moose Madness. This is basically a 6 hour educational video that will teach you everything you could possibly need to know about moose hunting. It was BY FAR the most valuable purchase I made when I drew my tag. Anyways, our strategy was to call at these spots for 3-4 consecutive mornings/evenings and if nothing showed, we would then move on to the next area. Many people hunt the BWCA by just paddling all day, hoping to cross paths with a bull. In my opinion this is not nearly as effective, and you are relying on luck alone to put a bull in your sights. I'm not one that likes to rely on luck on a hunting trip. When I (or in this case my dad) is calling, I feel like we are in charge and are MAKING things happen, instead of just letting them happen. Plus, what is not to love about the chance to call a 1/2 ton beast into your lap, grunting and slobbering the whole way looking for you!

Anyways, our plan for the day was to find the best calling location we could in the area, and then to save it until Bob got there to join us. One area looked perfect from the satellite images. It was a pond surrounded by forest on 3 sides and a swamp on the 4th. Half of the forest around it had been burned 7-8 years ago. We had to portage our canoe to anotherlake to access it, but when we hiked up there, it looked perfect! The area was trampled by moose tracks. This was the spot we'd concentrate on when our party was all together.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon making a big loop to different lakes in the area and doing some more scouting. While there were some decent looking areas, nothing compared to the little pond we found. I should also mention that I was in charge of self defense on the trip with my dad's little Colt .22. This grouse charged us out of nowhere, and found itself wrapped in tortillas for lunch that day.

That evening we found a secondary pond a few miles from our #1 spot and sat there to do some calling. Mostly we were just relaxing, enjoying the warm weather, and listening to the sounds of the water trickling behind us. While there was moose sign in the area, it was not what I would call a great spot

We paddled back as the sun was setting, looking forward to another good nights sleep, and just enjoying the peace and quite in general. We predicted at some point during the hunt, we'd have a lot of work to do, but at this point we were just in chill mode, enjoying every minute of it.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 3

After another good night's sleep, we woke up and returned to the spot where we had ended the previous day, hoping a moose would be waiting for us. It was a cool paddle in the dark to get to the spot, but the sun peaking over the eastern horizon quickly warmed us up. We spent a few hours calling, but with no response paddled back to camp to relax and wait for my uncle, who was to join us that afternoon.

After a quick bite of oatmeal I took off behind camp for a walk and shot us another grouse for lunch. With more spare time on our hands this year than last year, we quickly regretted not bringing at least minimal fishing gear with us. Soon, however, another canoe appeared across the lake and paddled our way. They were the first people we had seen since getting to our lake, and as they passed by, we struck up conversation with them. Before long, we had made a barter, and traded 3 candy bars for 4 fish hooks and about 20' of mono fishing line. Now we were in business. My dad took care of cutting a couple poles from the alder thicket while I tried to figure out what to use for bait. Flipping over logs and stumps turned up no grubs, so I went down to the edge of the lake and was able to catch a couple of small crayfish. These would have to do. We rigged up our rods with mason's string line for the main line and the mono leader, with a single hook and crayfish for bait and walked down to the rock face in front of camp. Soon we could see some fish cruising by and it wasn't long until we had lunch!

Within 1/2 hour we caught one more and had more than enough fish for a delicious meal. With no real way to keep the fillets cold, we put the fishing gear aside, ate like kings, and relaxed. We both even managed to jump in the lake for a very quick bath. The air was warm but the water was cold! It felt great, though, and soon we dragged our air mattresses out for a nap on the rocks.

We woke up in time to see my uncle coming around the corner. He made it! We were slightly concerned about him coming to meet us by himself. A sprained ankle or twisted knee on one of the rugged portages could have made it impossible for him to meet us, and we'd have had to go looking for him. He greeted us with a big smile, stretched, and said "boy, that portage #6 was a B!$@*." We quickly fried up the grouse and some fajita mix and ate. Tonight was the night we'd finally hunt the pond that looked so good, and we were excited! Here is my uncle coming around the last corner to camp.

We informed him that we had one more portage to get to our hunting spot, but he was up for it. Soon we were off. It didn't take long and we were on the lake that would take us to our moose pond. Here is a beaver dam unlike any I've ever seen that was on the lake. It was made up of almost 100% rock. How the heck the beavers were able to pile up rocks like this is beyond me.

A quick paddle and about a 1/4 mile hike through the bush and we were at our pre-scouted spot and ready to call in a bull. From the rock we sat on, he could get a shot around the entire pond very easily. I believe it was about 250 yards to the far side. My dad and I sat up front while my uncle observed from behind us.

We called until dark, with no response at all. We paddled and portaged back to camp. Our optimism was still high. After another quick supper of Mountain House, we hit the sack, ready for the next day.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 4

Monday was pretty uneventful. We got up in the dark and paddled/portaged back to the moose pond. My dad called for a few hours and we didn't see or hear anything all morning. This was very different than the previous year when it seemed like we saw moose every time we turned around, and could hear them calling in the mornings. We were still a few miles from that area, though, and knew we could always head in that direction if we needed to. The morning started out beautiful....

but quickly turned breezy and foggy paddling back to camp.

The middle of the day was damp and drizzly. I chased grouse around behind camp for awhile, and eventually we all ended up back in the tent to dry off and take a nap. By mid afternoon the weather had improved and we headed back to the pond for the evening hunt with the same results. No moose heard, no moose seen.

Back at camp we ate supper watching the moon rise over the treetops. We discussed it and decided that we would hunt the pond one more time in the morning and then pack up camp and head south to look for some new areas.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 5

Tuesday morning. This was our last chance at calling in a bull around the moose pond. While I felt confident this was a good area, the lack of moose sightings was discouraging and the lack of a cow calling in the area was even more discouraging. If there is a cow in the area, eventually a bull will pass by.

Anyways, we got positioned on our rock like the previous couple of days and my dad proceeded to let out his best cow calls. He probably made 4 sets of calls over 2 hours and was getting discouraged and second guessing his calling ability. He turned around and asked if we wanted to pack up and get ready to move camp. My uncle came down to sit right next to us and I whispered that he should give a few more calls and we should wait a bit longer before we gave up. He let out a 3 part cow call and we heard a twig snap, below and to the right of us. My heart almost stopped. We were concentrating on looking down there when I saw a grouse hop up on a branch. Dang! I turned around to tell him, when we heard another twig snap and a definite "UGGGHHHH" sound directly behind us. It was the one direction we weren't prepared to see a moose coming from. All three of us spun around, waiting to see what appeared. We could hear steady foot steps coming our way, and steady breathing. What was it?? Our question was answered in about 30 seconds when a bull appeard on top of the hill, walking right towards us. It came steadily closer until I started thinking about what it would feel like to get stepped on by a moose. It finally stopped and turned broadside, staring at the 3 funny looking bushes right in front of it. It was an absolutely incredible sight. Drool slobbering out of its jaw, it's breath steaming in the cool morning air. I could see the individual drops of water falling off of his hide from the heavy dew, his body steaming as the sun beat down on it, trying to dry him out. He was so close that we had to stare UP at him. While a good Minnesota bull at about 40" wide, it was soon obvious that my dad was going to pass on him. He was a young bull with small paddles, and we had 13 more days to hunt. At this time I decided I needed a picture of this beast, and my camera was laying on top of my backpack right next to me. I tried to move as slow as I could to grab it, but the bull caught the movement and trotted off. DANG!! He must have been pissed we weren't a cow, because he stopped about 80 yards away and proceeded to beat the living snot out of a spruce tree. He was easily in rifle range for he next 10 minutes, which gave my dad a chance to look him over and solidify his decision to pass. We were all shaking like crazy! I told them to stay put and I would go to where the moose was standing and pace back to them. The bull was exactly 9 normal steps from where we were sitting, which works out to 8 or 9 yards. What a rush! It was just really unfortunate I was not ready to get a picture of him! As long as we were all on an adrenaline rush, we decided to canoe back to camp and get moving.

Here is a picture of Dad calling that morning.

We got to camp, ate some breakfast, and got everything packed up. It was time to move deeper into the BWCA and find a bigger bull. The area we were headed to was closer to where I hunted last year, but still a few lakes away. We were confident there would be moose around our next lake. We only had one portage to get there. Although it was fairly long, only the last 1/2 was bad. We had it done in no time. Here I am, loading my dad up with the canoe for the portage.

And here is my dad and I paddling across the next lake, looking for a campsite.

We found a nice island campsite, and then it was time to scout. Looking at our maps we found a big swamp surrounded by burn. We hiked through the burn to find it, and the swamp was mature spruce trees that survived the fire. The moose sign was THICK in the area. We decided this was as good of a spot to try as any, so we found a good calling location and sat down for the evening hunt. We talked amongst each other about what a great trip it was, and how cool it was to have all of this land to hunt, with no other people to worry about. Just about that time I was scanning the horizon with my binoculars when I saw two orange hats about a mile away, walking towards us. What the heck? We thought we were the only ones dumb enough to be that far back in. I figured they must be camping on the same lake as us, so I scurried down to the canoe and took off, looking for their camp or canoes. I wanted to talk to them to see what their plans were so that we wouldn't interfere with their hunt, and vice versa. After bucking the wind paddling around the lake, I could not locate any sign of them, so I returned to the others, and we hunted until dark without seeing anything.

Here is a view back to the lake through the burn we were hunting. There was quite a bit of smoke in the air from some fires burning across the border in Canada. It also gives you an idea of what it is like to walk through these areas.

And here is the sunset from the same location, right before we headed back to camp for another delicious Mountain House supper and a good night's sleep.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 6 - Wednesday

Without a backup spot on the lake we were staying on, we talked it over and decided our best bet was just to go right back to the same spot we hunted in the evening, do some calling, and then come up with a new game plan. We got set up as legal shooting time approached and my dad started his usual calling routine. Before long it became apparent that we would have some competition. Not from the other hunters, but from a real cow that we could hear bellowing about a mile west of us. Like I mentioned earlier, cows can be somewhat territorial, so my dad would match her calls hoping to bring her and a possible bull in. At times it sounded like she was heading in our direction, but as the morning went on her calls became more and more sporadic and finally ended.


With other hunters in the area, we needed a plan. Knowing they were not camped on the same lake as us, we figured they were two lakes south of us, the nearest with campsites. We would head down there mid day, find and talk to them, and then go scout a marshy lake that I have had my eye on since last season. I wanted to hunt there more than anything last year, but the warm weather and fire did not allow for it. So, we packed light, all 3 of us jumped into a canoe, and we portaged down to find the other hunters. Sure enough, we found them on the first campsite and talked to them for quite a while. They had seen some cows and calves, but no bulls up until that point. They said that they could hear bulls fighting at night, and one evening while paddling back to camp heard 4 of them fighting in one location. They had a great spot and were seeing good bull activity and didn't plan on moving. So, we told them we were heading one more lake down to do some scouting and we'd let them know what we found.

It was a grueling portage, but when we got to the next lake there was no question about it. Moose were there, and there were lots of them. I have never seen so much moose sign in my life. Everywhere you looked, there was moose tracks, moose scat, moose wallows. We found a campsite and 3 hunting locations (depending on the wind), and started making our way back to camp, prepared to come back the next day. On our way back we swung by the other hunters' camp and told them our plan. That evening we would hunt the same place we saw each other the day before. After that we would head down to a different lake further where we would be out of each other's way.

We got back to camp pretty worn out from the 6 portages that day and took advantage of the very warm weather by bathing, washing clothes, and relaxing. Pretty soon one of us said "hey, we should probably go moose hunting." It was later than we thought so we paddled down to our spot, got set up and ready to call. Then I looked to the east and sure enough, there were the other two hunters. Dang! We told them right where we would be hunting but I guess they wanted to hunt the same spot, too. My dad was pretty bummed out. I suggested, even though it was getting late, that we should hike back to the canoes, paddle a mile west, and do some calling where we heard the cow that morning. Who knows, maybe the cow called a bull in and he'd be waiting for us? I also mentioned that sometimes things that seem like a curse actually turn out to be a blessing. Not only that, but we had an awesome spot to hunt in the near future if this didn't pan out.

We paddled to the west shore, pulled the canoe up onto land, and began hiking up to the top of a ridge that we would follow away from the lake until it came to a finger about 1/2 mile inland. This would put us at least 1 1/2 miles from the other two hunters. It was brutal hiking through the rocks and deadfalls. I stopped my dad at one point and said "if you shoot a moose back here, it better be a BLEEPING big one! He agreed. We finally got to the end of the finger, and the view was awesome! The picture doesn't do it justice, but we felt like we were hunting out in the mountains somewhere instead of northern MN. There was still plenty of smoke in the air too. My dad let out a couple of cow calls

Within seconds we heard a very faint grunt coming from the south of us. It was a bull, but it sounded a long ways off. We quickly and quietly relocated to a spot about 100 yards farther south, that gave us a better view of where we thought the bull would be coming from. My dad made a couple more cow calls, and the faint grunting started again. It was coming from behind the ridge in this picture.

It sounded like the bull was getting closer, but soon the grunting stopped. My dad cow called again, and it started again. Uggghhh....Ugghh......Ughhh. But it just wasn't getting any closer. We had talked about possibly using bull grunts to tick off a hesitant bull after hearing about the other party's encounters with fighting bulls, so my dad let out 3 grunts of his own. This did NOT sit well with the bull. He got fired up and immediately headed right in our direction, and fast! My dad steadied the rifle on a rock, my eyes were glued to my binoculars, and our heartbeats were echoing off of the hills. Would it be a spike? Would it be another small one like the previous day? Would it be a giant? We knew we would have our answer in a matter of seconds....

 

[fowladdict]

We knew we would have our answer in a matter of seconds....

Sasquatch? A wolf? Dinkshooters neighbor? JK...great story so far!

 

[whyelkhunt]

Sasquatch? A wolf? Dinkshooters neighbor? JK...great story so far!

Pay a fee to see the rest of the story?

 

[NoWiser]

Sure, if you want to send me a check that would be just fine. PM me and I'll get you my address

I had to get a little bit of work done. Here is the rest....

All of a sudden a bull appeared in my binoculars. It was a sight that will be burned into my memory forever. Not only was it a bull, it was a BIG bull, and it was NOT happy. Time seemed to slow down. It kept coming straight towards us, antlers swaying back and forth, looking for the little punk moose that was stealing his cow. He stopped about 90 yards away, looking right at us. I kept thinking to myself.....shoot....shoot....shoot. My dad was much more patient than I, though, and waited what seemed like minutes but was probably more like seconds, for the bull to turn broadside. When it did I had the binocs on it, and heard roar of his .270 WSM. I could see his hide rippling from the impact of the bullet. He just stood there like nothing happened. Knowing the bull was hit, and facing the opposite direction of the canoe, I hissed "shoot again, shoot again". He jacked another cartridge into the chamber, and shot one more time. At only 90 yards there was no question the shot was on target, but the bull showed no sign of being hit. He just stood there, still looking for the other moose. My dad, knowing he had two good hits, did not want to shoot anymore so we watched. After a bit the bull let out a couple of loud coughs. It started losing its balanced, walked about 20 yards, and tipped over. My dad had shot his Minnesota bull!! We were all 3 in shock of what just happened. My uncle and I were so excited that we didn't know what to do with ourselves, and for some reason just started taking pictures of each other!!

We eventually calmed down a little and grabbed our stuff to hike over to the moose. This is what we found.

Here is one with just my dad and I.

Anyone who has shot a moose knows that with the excitement comes a certain sense of foreboding. This feeling is multiplied exponentially when you shoot one in the middle of the BWCA, and then again when you shoot one as the sun is dipping below the western horizon. We had a lot of work to do, and we knew it. The first order of business was to take the samples for the DNR moose study. This went very quickly due to my experience doing it the previous year. We sent my uncle back to camp with all of our extra gear, and he would return with pack frames and anything we needed to care for the meat. My dad and I would get to work immediately butchering the moose. Using the gutless method, we moved right along and had him quartered and the backstraps removed before my uncle returned.

Here I am with one of the oversized backstraps.

It was soon apparant that there was no possibly way we were packing the moose back to the canoe in the dark. It was going to be a challenging enough hike in the dark without 80 pound packs on our back. So, while I took care of getting the tenderloins, heart, rib, and neck meat removed from the carcass, the other two built a crib to get the meat sacks off the ground to cool.

Not knowing what the weather would be like, we decided to tent the meat off. Too much moisture can cause the meat to spoil faster, so we needed to keep it dry, yet maintain air flow around it to cool.

By about 10:00 p.m. we had done as much as we could do. Luckily my uncle had enough foresight to flag the trail back to the canoe and take a compass bearing from there back to camp so we were able to get back without too much trouble. We had double rations of Mountain House before bed, and had no trouble sleeping, despite the knowledge that the fun part of the hunt was over. We had work ahead of us, and lots of it.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 7 - Thursday

We awoke as the sun slowly rose above the eastern horizon. The pressure of finding, calling, and shooting a bull was lifted off of our backs, but we were all too aware that it was soon to be replaced with the weight of moose quarters strapped to our packs and the duty we had to get the meat back in good condition. In talking to our fellow hunters the day before who had a weather radio, we were aware that we were under a winter weather advisory. Beyond that, we had no details. The morning was fairly calm, so we prepped camp for the meat we were to be bringing back, and set out to retrieve it. Before too long we were back at the kill site. Due to the ruggedness of the terrain, we each cut ourselves a stout walking stick, loaded our packs, and headed back towards the lake. The going was very tough through the burn. Head high brush, standing and fallen timber, rocks of every shape and size, and a smattering of yellow jacket nests which we had to mark and avoid.

Here are my dad and I almost back to the lake with our first load. The front quarters.

The three of us got our first load to the canoes and returned to the kill. My uncle and I each strapped on a rear quarter and headed back to the canoe, while my dad began to cut the antlers off of the massive head. We returned just as he finished up, and between the three of us were able to strap everything else onto our packs, and make our final trip back to the canoe, pulling the flagging tape as we went. This was far from an easy hike, but we were rested up well, and finished with no issues. My dad proudly carried the antlers on the last trip, and never left them out of his sight from that point on.

We made it back to camp and had planned on deboning and peppering all of the meat at that point, but the wind was picking up from the SE. We had the two biggest lakes right ahead of us and had to paddle to the north side of each of them. We decided that when the storm hit and wind switched, we would be out of luck, so decided to quickly pack up camp and put on some miles. Before long we were at our first portage. It was long, but 1/2 way through it it flattened out wasn't too bad. We had it done in short order and took off paddling. I was by myself in the smaller canoe loaded down with all of the meat, and with the wind at my back, decided to head right down the center of it. I'm absolutely 100% positive that I set a record for crossing that lake solo with a canoe full of moose. By the time I got to the north side, I was practically surfing on the whitecaps. I hit shore full steam, ready for portage #2 for the day. This one seemed easy a week earlier, but this time around it was a whole different ball game. It may have been short, but it was steep. We were all pretty well spent when we finished the portage. It was about 2:00 p.m., the temperature was dropping FAST, and the wind switched to the NW and was roaring. Our options were to either camp on this lake, or to keep paddling. But, the next campsite was 3 lakes and 4 portages away. It really wasn't an option. We needed to stay on that lake. Here I am with the loaded canoes after the 2nd portage.

We landed the canoes at the closest campsite and quickly hung and covered the meat, set up the tent, and crawled into our sleeping bags for warmth. It was only 4:00 but it was going to be our bed time. It was too cold and windy to sit outside. It was hard to imagine that only a day earlier I was walking around camp shirtless, washing my clothes. Our supper that night consisted of candy bars and Tylenol PM. Even so, it was hard for me to get any sleep. I could hear trees falling down around us, and I just layed there, praying nothing would land on the tent.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 8 - Friday

Everytime I woke up the night before, I kept expecting to hear the wind dying down and the moon to make an appearance. That was not the case. The wind in the morning was every bit as strong as when we went to bed, and we could hear the sleet and rain hitting the tent. I crawled out to take a leak, and this is what I found.

Sorry about the blurry picture. I may have been shivering a little bit.

We talked about it and decided that we would be nuts to try to paddle in this weather. The meat was nice and cool and in great shape and there was no reason to be in a hurry. We popped a few more Tylenol PMs and fell back asleep. And that is how the day went. We'd wake up, look at maps, eat some tortillas or candy bars, drink a bit of water, and fall back asleep. Day turned into night, and we stayed hunkered down. It was too miserable to be outside, so the only other option was our sleeping bags. Before this trip, I invested in a really good, inflatable, goose down insulated sleeping pad. This thing is more comfortable than my own bed, and was worth every penny for this trip along.

Here is my dad making his favorite snack, butter on a tortilla, while we were stuck in the tent.

 

[NoWiser]

Day 9 - Saturday

After spending 40 straight hours in our sleeping bags, we were ready to be on the move in anything less than a hurricane. Luckily, the wind had subsided and conditions were pretty decent. Our biggest fear now were the wet rocks on the portages. We had 8 to do, including the worst 3 of the trip, and "bleeping portage #6" was the second one.

Not many words were said this day. We all knew what we had to do, and we just put our heads down and did it. This is where all of the mornings at the gym every day before work paid off. We were hit by a couple of snow squawls throughout the day.

And the two portages that weren't steep rocks were mud.

Here is my dad with a typical load for a portage.

Every portage required 7 trips across it. 4 were loaded down, and three were return trips to get more gear. In total we did 9 miles that last day of portaging along. Close to 6 of those were loaded down with between 70 and 100 pounds on our backs. We packed up camp when the sun was rising, and were coasting into the landin just as the sun hit the tops of the trees. We did not stop to rest once all day. We ate candy bars and drank water on our return trips on the portages. I don't know that my legs have ever felt so dead, but I don't know that I have ever felt so alive. It was an incredible feeling knowing what we accomplished, and we were all still smiles when we got to the trucks.

Here I am on the home stretch

Here is my dad and uncle coasting into shore at the landing.

Soon we had the trucks packed up and it was time to head back to civilization, but not before one last picture.

We started the long drive home, but had time to stop for our first real meal in days, and an ice cold beverage to celebrate the trip of a lifetime.

 

[fowladdict]

Great write up! Thanks for sharing. Is your dad not having the bull mounted?

 

[Carrion Carrier]

I sure do miss the BWCA! Great moose, thanks for sharing

 

[NoWiser]

He decided not to do a mount with it. He really doesn't have any ceilings tall enough to put it, so he has the antlers proudly displayed in his garage where he can look at them when he leaves for work and comes home each day.

Unfortunately the moose population is not doing well at all in Minnesota, and the season was canceled for 2013. It's sad these animals are disappearing from this state, and also that nobody else will be able to experience a hunt like this until they recover, if they ever do. We are very lucky to have been able to experience two hunts like this in the last two hunting seasons that were offered.

 

[MtnWest]

Great pictures and story!

 

[stillkickin]

Awesome post and welcome to Hunttalk!

 

[track1]

Great story and pics. i really enjoyed it!

 

[MNHunter]

Very nice! I was fortunate to hunt moose in MN in 2006. Very sad that others won get to do it in the forseeable future. Congrats to you all!