Yeti GOBOX Collection

A Yukon Delta Moose Hunt

The trip to Alaska started early for a 6AM flight out of Phoenix and getting into Bethel around 7:30PM Alaska time.
On the way, we ate the worst burrito ever made in the SEATAC airport.

Arriving in Bethel via Anchorage via Seattle, we were picked up by PBA staff and taken to their lodge for the evening.
Here we sorted gear and prepared to be flown out in the morning.

The morning of the 13th the weather was partly cloudy, with some sunshine - something that should not be taken for granted.

PBA’s headquarters is on a small lake but they prefer to depart heavy from the river, so we drove to town and down to the river, got on a float plane and headed out.

We made some conversation with our pilot on the trip north. He was taking us a little over a 100 miles, which would take about an hour.

3/4 of this flight is over barren, swampy tundra without a moose or any other wildlife for miles.

Once you hit the vegetation such as willows and alders this changes and changes quick.

We landed at our target destination and unloaded the Beaver float plane with the tent, cots, chairs, cooking equipment, Mercury outboard and inflatable zodiac raft provided by the outfitter along with our personal gear.

Within an hour or two, a campsite was selected and the tent was up.

We elected for more wind exposure but higher and drier vs being tucked into vegetation but camped on a sponge surrounded by 4 foot grass.

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By late afternoon, I was looking for moose. We actually had some topography and I was glad to have brought the spotting scope and tripod, which from what I hear can be almost worthless to bring if your location is a flat one surrounded by alders. It would serve me well on this trip.

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Them big, white paddles are a long ways away. Let’s see what we can do closer to the water and to camp before getting any stupid ideas.
 
You can’t hunt on the day you fly in AK, so I just spent the rest of that evening glassing. In the morning, we went back out to the same little knob that I’d glassed from to sit, glass and do some calling.
Figured it would be best to hunt near camp before spreading out and making noise and scent all over the place.

After about 45 minutes of calling, which I’m totally winging and hoping I don’t sound terrible, I readjusted how I was sitting and as I did so, I could see a rack about 200 yards away in the alders slowly coming our way.

Slow is what I thought it was anyway. An animal with a stride this large moves fast even when it moves slow. He was on us in no time, barely giving us time to set up to shoot, if we decided to.

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Not a bad bull at all, however my father in law has waited 62 years to moose hunt and we didn’t want to kill this bull 200 yards from camp halfway through the first morning.

It was incredible to call him in. Watching him rake and display, close enough to hear him breath was heart pounding. My excitement level for this hunt got a hell of a lot higher after this experience and we were just getting started.
 
The bull that we called in eventually wandered off and we both hoped that letting him go would be the right decision. We called off and on for the rest of the day. By mid afternoon I had glasses up many moose including a good looking one that appeared to be in reach of where we could get the boat to.
The bull we would hopefully target the next day.
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Before dinner, we went down to the lakeshore to pump up the boat, and install the motor, gas tank etc and make sure we knew how to run it.

Right before dark, my FIL went to bed. I snuck back out to the knob to check in the bull we’d glassed.
While there two more bulls walked up on me and I added approximately another 10 moose to the tally with the glass.

See bullwinkle selfie below. Also, the nicer bull that passed by.
Moose in swamp was about 800 yards out to our north.

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On the morning of the 15th I got up early, sent an in reach message to my friends in the Beartooth. I had spent every September 15 from 2014 to 2020 there so this was a change.

Then just as it was getting light, walked down to the lake shore, loaded up our inflatable dinghy and made our way along the lake, around a point and hopefully as far up a slough as I thought we would be able to, to get as close as possible to the last spot I had seen the bull.
It worked out quite well, and we beached the boat in the grass and mud and with our waders on, trudged to shore and made our way toward the moose.

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The going is tough around here, the high, semi dry areas are extremely unlevel tussocks, while everything else is like walking on a waterbed, or just a downright swamp. We try to make our way from tussock ridge to tussock Ridge in the direction of the moose.


My father-in-law, with two knee replacements was having a tough time with the unlevel and extremely soft ground. He mentioned that we maybe should have killed the bull the day before. I was certain this one was nicer, and that it would be worth the extra effort and he agreed. We continued on.

As we got within a couple hundred yards of where I believed the last spot we saw the nice bull was, we sat down to have a snack, look around, and then potentially do some calling. As we were sitting there I could see a cow, and one of the small bullwinkles that he was with in the alders about 400 yards away. I presumed that he was right there somewhere. Before we knew it, we could hear a large animal coming through the willows making the noises that only a bull moose makes when he is fired up in rut.

At first I could see the paddles above the alders, and then he stepped right out in the open, raked some willows and stood there broadside. My FIL was already in position to shoot, and I threw up my binoculars, quickly counting his brows just to confirm that it was the bull we were after, I said that it was and with three quick shots from his 300 WinMag the bull went down.

Not only did he go down, he went down on dry, solid ground. We pre-determined that this would be one of the most important parts about killing a moose and we were very thankful to see it work out.


We made our way to the bull, and we both amazed at the size of the animal before us. We took some photos and got to work.

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We shot the bull at 11:30. By 7, I had two loads to the boat and we headed for camp.
 
The following day was a real ass kicker. I had 4 more 100+ lb loads of meat to carry, plus the head.
The distance as the crow flies was “only” 0.68 miles. Probably close to a mile after the zigging and zagging. Doing this in waders in bipolar weather switching from hot sun to a cold rain requiring rain gear made for a tough day. I was averaging about 2 hour round trips.

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By 6PM the moose was in the boat. After a sat phone call to Papa Bear, I learned that they had a plane in the area dealing with another camp. We motored back to camp and it wasn’t 45 minutes and the humm of the Beaver broke the silence.

We loaded the meat and rack on the plane, chatted with the pilot a quick moment and went to camp to eat a well earned dinner.

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