Just back from a week of moose camp. A rocky start and painful finish. Type 2 fun and I home to take care of some things.
I finished packing Sept 29th. I realized you are never really finished packing until you get to camp and understand that whatever you forgot, you are doing without. I had all the essentials.
I shorted myself meds and that will come into play later.
It is a 5 1/2 hour drive by the shortest route to moose base camp. 4 1/2 by the longer route. SIRI has no understanding of USFS road conditions vs Interstates at 75MPH.
My notes from talking to the outfitter said to be in camp Sept 30. My iPhone calendar said "Sept 30, Moose Camp 4AM." I panicked and left home at about 11PM to get there by 4AM.
SIRI is a lying bitch. I arrived at camp at 3AM. The camp was dark and I put the truck seat back at went to sleep.
I woke up about 7AM to find camp completely deserted but for some mules with a manger full of hay. Absolutely Twilight Zone. I checked out camp and took some photos, then went back to the truck for a long nap.
Ray Holes is a legendary local saddle maker. These are very old Decker type pack saddles. The tack shed at camp is the original USFS cabin from before WW2.
The sign on the outhouse door.
I slept hard and woke up to find wrangler, guide, and returning archery elk hunters in camp. They informed me that they were not expecting me until the next day and that the outfitter had a family emergency and had to go home. They set me up in a cabin and fired up the generator. This got the Hughesnet and DiSH working. When I got my phone on the wireless it pinged a message from the outfitter that his wife had a medical crisis and he had to delay my pack-in for a day. He wanted me to arrive a day later. So much for that.
The outfitter told them I would be in on Monday evening because he had sent me a message. The message I never got because I was out of coverage drifting corners on USFS roads to get there by 4AM on Sunday. (Damn you iPhone and the idiot that created that calendar entry. )
I headed down to the river and caught my first ever Mountain Whitefish and a couple of West Slope Cutthoat in about 30 minutes. No pictures. I got tangled in some old USFS steel telephone/telegraph wire. I fell on my face but saved my 10' 5wt. That ended up becoming the theme for the week. (I will get to that.)
All genial company. An evening of dinner, FOX news & football on TV, and second-hand cigarette smoke ensued. The two returning elk hunters were planning on going out in the morning to do some calling. The outfitter explained the since they had been able to change their flights, they had gotten an extra day due to his crisis. He was taking them to Missoula after their morning hunt. He would be buying supplies and be back in camp Monday evening for a Tuesday pack-in. I hit the rack early wondering how the hell this was going to work out. I was confused about the Fupped start dates and still am.
The outfitter pulled out with the bow hunters about 10AM. The guide would follow him in a other truck, it seems. This left me alone with the 19 Y.O. camp hand/trainee cook. We did camp chores and got to know each other most of the day. We ended up hitting it off really well. In late afternoon the other moose hunter and his son arrived in camp. I had not known there a was another moose hunter, but his tag was for a neighboring zone so I wasn't feeling too competitive. The son had a bear tag. They seemed nice enough. They set up in the other cabin. (I learned later that was a good thing.)
The outfitter and guide made it back by late afternoon and we set in all the supplies they brought back. Some for the stock and some for the humans. Soon it was time for dinner and another evening of FOX News and second hand smoke ensued. You-bake pizza from the ZooTown Costco. Pack-in day in the morning and I was getting super stoked. Before bed I thinned out my duffel.
Let the hunt begin.
www.hunttalk.com
My guide, Jeff, folding up the mantie top pack for all the hunter's duffles. 
The black mule is "Wilma" and was my ride for the week. Redeemed at the glue factory door a few years ago and she is smart and sure-footed. She did most everything I demanded. There was a testing period for the first couple of hours until she learned I wasn't a push-over. 
Moose butchering the new way.
The view from the outhouse...
IDFG and USFS prescription burned this in 2019. There is a lot of lodgepole blow down to deal with, but a lot of ceanothus and willow re-prod.
Eventually you get to the sub-alpine. The outfitter calls these "meadows". Ok whatever - Lots of aspen and woody browse.
Almost 180° of visibility from our glassing spot. There were fresh tracks and what I would call early rut sign. I heard one bull grunt far across on another ridge, but little else. Lots of long days glassing and calling.
I caught some crap for wearing "fancy duds", some seemed to be hoping the gear would catastrophically fail. They were disappointed.
Snow on the high rims. The cell phone can't do it justice. 
Guide Jeff in the high aspen.
