Canadian Moose Hunt

[Bucnutz.wis]

Ok Guys,

I need some expert advise/opinions/recommendations.

My brother emailed me the other day and asked if I would be interested in a 2011 Canadian Archery Moose Hunt.
(Of course I would, who wouldn't be...?? but only if I don't win any of my Elk lotto's)

Neither of us know much about Canada hunting so that's the reason for this thread....

- My brother mentioned hiring a guide, I prefer DIY - is that even possible or are you required to use a guide in Canada ?
- Where is the best Quality of Moose found in Canada ?? We heard Alberta or BC ??
- Where is the highest Quantity found ??
- Where can we find the Regulation Info for each Providence ??
- Anything else that might help us launch this Moose Mission ??

We've just started our planning, so any help is greatly appreciated.

Thanks !!

 

[Goldtip]

Canada you must use an outfitter for starters. Unless you have a relative up there who is willing to take you.

Alberta and BC both have big Moose, Some of the northern sections of BC the moose are basically of the Yukon variety but still classified as Canadian species, so they get real big, but you'll pay close to Yukon territory prices as well. But you can kill some dandies in Alberta as well. I took a very good Canadian in 2008 as did my buddy hunting just out of Grande Prairie with an outfitter I'd hunt with again in a minute. If you want his info, send me a p.m. Here is a pic of four bulls we took in 24 hours in this camp.

 

[The Hedgehog]

I have a couple friends that have taken B&C caliber Canadian moose hunting with Bryan Martin (Canadian Mtn Outfitters) in northern BC. Might be tougher wilderness type hunts, but the trophies are there. A friend of mine took one last fall and said it was about the best hunt he's ever been on.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

...Holy Moose Goldtip !!! That's awesome... Congratulations on great success !!

Are any of those Archery Moose ??

I had a hunch that there was an outfitter requirement but wasn't quite sure.

Are there any size limitation in O' Canada ?? I think there are some in Alaska.. does anyone know the details on that ??

How about the Eastern half - Ontario & Quebec ?? I know Quebec is known for Caribou, but how is it for Moose ?

Greenhorn - I found the info - thank you !!

 

[Elkwhisper]

I would also strongly suggest Bryan Martin's Canadian Mountain Outfitters. When we did our Canada moose hunt he was on the top of our list of outfitters, but we just couldn't make the schedule work. We ended up going with Scoop Lake Outfitters and were definitely treated right. I took a nice moose but my partner / boss went home empty handed. Not for lack of trying on the guides part, just never came together for him. Darwin and Wendy run a first class operation, and most of the other hunters they had that season did better than we did. Great people and a great outfitter, but I don't think they cater to bowhunters very often. That said, I could have easily taken my bull with a bow, and was kicking myself for not brining mine.

Elkwhisper

 

[Goldtip]

...Holy Moose Goldtip !!! That's awesome... Congratulations on great success !!

Are any of those Archery Moose ??

I had a hunch that there was an outfitter requirement but wasn't quite sure.

Are there any size limitation in O' Canada ?? I think there are some in Alaska.. does anyone know the details on that ??

How about the Eastern half - Ontario & Quebec ?? I know Quebec is known for Caribou, but how is it for Moose ?

Greenhorn - I found the info - thank you !!

Nope none of those are archery kills, but two of them could have been, or at least were within 50 yards when shot.The outfitter does do archery specific hunts earlier in the season.

As far as AK goes, the size requirements vary depending on the unit. Many (maybe all)NR units require at least 50' width or 3 brow tines to one side, some are 4 brow tines on one side.

 

[The Hedgehog]

Here's one a friend of mine took with Bryan last fall.

 

[1_pointer]

That's a MOOSE! That thing has some amazing brows.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

That is a Dandy Moosie - thanks for sharing Greenhorn.

 

[bonedogg]

I live in Alberta, and you need to determine if you want to hunt canadian moose or the bigger yukon/Alaskan. Alberta, sask, and BC all offer great opps at big canadian moose in the 40-60 inch range, but they don't compare to the immense size of the bulls further to the north of Northern BC, Yukon, or NWT. 50-70 inchers. Almost every zone in Alberta offers tremendous moose hunts when the right research is done to determine what kind of hunt you are looking for, ie;horseback into the back country mountain bowls, parkland cabin hunts, or prairie motel. Some of the biggest bulls taken in Canada lately are coming from SE prairie zones of Alberta and the flat stuff of Sask. Hope this helps a little.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

The story is coming soon... but here is a crappy phone pic for now.

 

[Goldtip]

Looks like they had a great hunt, am looking forward to more pics and a story. Bucnutz, I sent ya a PM by the way.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

Thanks Jay, I appreciate that.

Ok, here's what went down.... Back in February, I shared all of your recommendations with my Brother Jeff, who already had an extensive list of potential outfitters. He was setting this up and it was supposed to happen next year in 2011.

What ended up happening was this: The outfitter that Goldtip recommended had an exceptional web site with many references including one from Goldtip himself:

http://www.wildkakwaoutfit.com/huntingstories/Jay-St-Onge.asp

My brother called & discussed our plans with them and found out they cater to both archery & rifle hunters and have an excellent success rate... And they also had 2 openings available for September of this year... I think he might have peed himself but didn't tell me that part.

I could not join him this year because of prior commitments so he asked his wife Cindy to join him. She said yes, and she was the one that killed the moose in the picture.

So, I have an article that Cindy wrote about their hunt so I'm going to try and post that in the next few Posts... If I mess something up - I apologize.

Thank you all for your tips - it greatly appreciated !! Enjoy the story - it's a little long but worth it.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

Highest Highs, Lowest Lows and Back Again

By Cindy Braun - Page 1

Highest Highs, Lowest Lows and Back Again

By Cindy Braun

The ground was littered with the distinct tracks of wolves, grizzlies, moose, elk, deer, fox, coyotes, lynx and every other North American wildlife you could imagine. Tracks were everywhere. Here we were, closer to Alaska than home, in the middle of the foothills of the Canadian Rockies, pursuing the half ton Canadian Moose just armed with bows and sharp sticks. It was my husband’s dream to hunt this creature with only a bow and arrow. When he found Wild Kakwa Outfitters, back in February and asked if I’d like to hunt with him, I couldn’t refuse. Little did we know when we booked the hunt, we already had an ace in the hole with our young guide, Ricky Houweling.

My eyes were filled with rolling valleys, brilliant yellow aspens reaching for the skies and snow capped mountains slicing the clouds in the distance. It had become perfectly still and the sounds of the woods engulfed my spirit and mind. I could hear the snow melting and creating droplets which in turn create the sound of water. I could hear the wings of the ravens cutting the air as they flew overhead. Yet I strained to hear what our guide had proven he could; the subtle grunt of a Canadian Bull Moose in the distance. Our guide Ricky was a strapping young man that has mastered the language of this Canadian giant. We walked, listened and somehow, over all the other sounds of the wild, he would pick out the sound of a subtle grunt produced by one of these creatures. He could decipher the sound of a raking bull 100 yards out from that of branches swaying against each other. For every one grunt my husband Jeff and I would hear, he would hear three. He would crawl up on a stump and first listen and absorb the sounds. Then he’d raise his hands to his face and begin to speak their language. Then listen intently, turning his head to better take in all of the sounds of the woods and pinpoint the location of a reply.

Several times he’d get excited over something that Jeff and I couldn’t hear, but we trusted him and went along. It was this way that our five day Canadian moose hunt started. It was the first morning of our hunt and the skies were slightly overcast, but were turning sour to the west. A weather front was headed our way. Having never gone moose hunting, I didn’t know what to expect. I’ve heard about guys shooting moose along river banks and from boats, but clearly this was going to be different. We would be calling, locating and setting up on these giant creatures, very similar to elk hunting. We were both sighted in for 50 yards but by the looks of the thick bush, a closer shot would be probable and necessary.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 2

We were up before daylight, ate a hearty breakfast provided by Rita and Vanessa and hopped in the truck to head for the location of the day. After a twenty minute truck ride on greasy narrow roads we stopped, grabbed our gear and headed into the bush. We followed a pipeline cut through the vast wilderness that lead down to a gas lease site. It was relatively easy walking “downhill” but I wasn’t looking forward to the “up”. “This wasn’t supposed to be the mountains like elk camp” I thought to myself. After about 100 yards we stopped, listened and called. Nothing answered so we proceeded further down the hill.

Again, we stopped, called and listened. Ricky cocked his head, threw us an interesting glance, turned and headed further into the bush to overlook the valley below and get a better idea of what he had just heard. Jeff and I heard nothing, but followed him regardless. He had heard a bull moose raking in the thickest snarl of willow undergrowth I had ever seen. “Let’s see if we can find an opening.” And down we went through the mess. After about ten minutes of descending through the willows we still hadn’t found a clearing to offer any sort of bow shot so we retreated back up the hill to regroup. What did I get myself into?

As we got out of the bush and back onto the cleared pipeline Ricky called again but heard nothing. We decided that the bull was not accessible or responsive so we ventured further down for another opportunity at a bull. It wasn’t far, probably another 100 yards where we stopped again and called. This time, the bull grunted back and was raking trees with his antlers. He was clearly moving in our direction! We quickly scattered. I posted high, Jeff posted low along the hill and Ricky went across the pipeline to call the bull over to him with hopes to draw the bull within bow range of Jeff or me. My heart was pounding with excitement, but the bull became quiet. We posted and waited while Ricky diligently called and raked and made a racket behind us as if he were a challenging bull with a cow. Yet still, no response from the bull. After about 30 minutes of this we again decided he’d winded us or wasn’t up to the challenge so again we gathered our stuff and headed further down the pipeline to where Jeff was posted.

Just as we reached Jeff, he was sure he heard a large branch snap on the other side of another willow thicket. We all stopped, stood still, held our breath and listened. “Grrrrruuulp” snorted the bull out of sight behind the willows but nearly on top of us. He sounded huge and he sounded mad! Eyes got wide and Ricky silently but urgently mouthed “Set up!” I immediately eyed two large aspen trees on the edge of the pipeline that were just at the edge of the thicket. Jeff headed around those trees and into the bush, but posted in an open area of Aspen and pines just on the edge of the same thicket. I quickly cleared a spot with my feet so that I wouldn’t make any noise should he present himself. Ricky scattered again to the other side of the pipeline with the intention of drawing the moose within bow range between Jeff and I.

Then reality kicked in. “What am I doing here?” I just positioned myself directly between a half ton, ticked off Canadian Moose and what he believes to be another challenging moose with a hot cow. I looked around my post to see where I would dive if he got too close. I didn’t have anywhere to hide but behind more of the same willows he was shredding or the two huge aspens I was posted between. I picked the aspens but had to stand my ground. “Get it together woman! You chose to be here!” I scolded myself. I took a deep breath and began to range the area with my range finder. It was twenty-six yards to that little pine tree in the middle of the thicket, fifty yards across the cleared pipeline and forty yards to that white pine. Yet somehow I knew the shot would be at twenty-six yards. I knew he would come out just behind that little pine tree.

Crunch, crunch, CRACK! The moose was coming and was obviously getting more and more aggressive as Ricky called. He was using both bull and cow calls, so this moose was getting fired up and ready for confrontation. I heard the moose enter the thicket. He was making a racket, raking and ripping through the thicket with his seemingly massive rack as he went. He was ripping the two inch thick willows to shreds with every movement of his head. He had the deepest, most intimidating grunt that I’d ever heard. All this and I couldn’t even see him. Step by step, he was coming closer, faster, louder, directly to Ricky. Directly past me! I knew it would be my shot. My heart was pounding, trying to get out of my chest. The adrenalin was rushing taking over my body. How was I supposed to take a shot at this thing in this condition?

Then I saw just the upper reaches of his left antler moving side to side through the thicket only ten yards from the pipeline. I could not see any part of the approaching monster’s body. The world went still and nearly silent in my head. I drew my sixty pound, Mathews Drenalin bow knowing I could not move when he stepped out. The thicket was still getting thrashed by this beast. But yet all was calm and time nearly stood still. I put my kisser button to the corner of my mouth. I felt the bowstring in position on my nose.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 3

I looked through my TruGlo Sight and lined up my twenty and thirty yard pins vertically where I thought they should be. He would be stepping out just behind my twenty-six yard, little pine tree. The moose continued forward grunting, thrashing, stepping, but it was all muffled, quiet to me. I studied my pins as a huge brown mass moved broadside through them and stopped at the vitals. I had held perfectly with the pins centered over his body, just a few inches back from the leg, just as I had practiced a thousand times in my head prior to the hunt.

I felt him turn and look at me. I saw a blur of green willows wrapped around his antlers and I saw a blur of his breath. I released. I watched as my twenty-four inch arrow armed with a G5 broad head sunk deep within his body as if in slow motion, but did not pass through. Just the fletching of the arrow remained outside his dense dark chocolate hide. He swung back around and headed back into the bush. I squatted, put my head down, prayed and listened. Ricky continued to call as he didn’t know what had just transpired. I heard the bull stop, then rustle around and then moved on silently, then more rustling in the thicket. Again all went quiet. My shot was well placed. I had him dead in my mind. But wait, more noise behind me. Then quiet. Finally, what sounded like fifty yards back I heard a smaller bit of movement and then heard nothing. I just knew he was lying just on the other side of the thicket, yet was concerned that I had heard more movement than I wanted to.

All this and I had no idea how big he was. I didn’t “see” his eyes when he looked at me. I didn’t see the width of the rack or its height. He was a decent sized bull I was sure. I didn’t see the hump on his back when he was broadside. I wasn’t even sure whether I even saw his entire body. I was so focused on the shot, that all I knew was that I sunk my arrow deep into the vitals of a huge brown mass at twenty-six yards with a great shot and the arrow remained inside his body. I assumed it was a double lung shot.

Finally, it was time to go after him. We followed in on the trail that he had come to me on. About 20 yards in we found the first blood. It was a good amount which led us then to a pool, where he had stood and swayed, about 80 yards from Jeff’s post. Then he took a few more steps and stopped again leaving us another puddle of blood to track. Then he moved on and the blood trail got thinner and thinner and my heart began to sink. I knew it didn’t help that the arrow didn’t pass through. There was no exit hole for the blood to escape from. Finally, the last blood we found was about shoulder height to me on a small tree indicating a well placed shot. We marked the spot and carefully looked around for sign and tracks with any blood in them.

We each painstakingly searched for a drop or a fresh track, we came together and did a grid type search. The threatening weather was moving closer and it began to sleet and then snow. We each made circles around the last blood hoping that one of us would cross his path and he would leave us a sign. I had shot him at 9:20 in the morning and we didn’t quit looking until one o’clock that afternoon. “He should be dead. He has to be close.” I thought, but began to doubt my shot and myself. It couldn’t have been double lung. The color of the blood wasn’t right and he should’ve been down. We headed back to camp for lunch and to get more help for the search. I was sick.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 4

We were back to the location within an hour with Rick Sr. and Wally from camp. By the time we returned nearly 4” of snow covered what little blood trail we had. We told them where the bull had come from, what we heard, how he acted and we all determined that he must’ve gone back in to where he had come from deep below the thicket. We all searched around the last blood again, and then formed a grid pattern from the blood trail and walked in line to the east with guys on each end calling. We found a beautiful area loaded with moose sign but no moose. We came back to the blood trail and did another pattern. No moose. And again. No moose.

My mood continued to sour the longer we searched and came up empty. By this time we were soaked through and a blizzard was upon us. After six hours of searching, we decided that my shot must not have been as well placed as I thought. I was devastated and returned to camp while Ricky and Jeff continued further down the pipeline for the remainder of the evening hunt. The shot replayed in my mind a thousand times. “It was a good shot. I knew it was a good shot. How could we have lost him? What did I do wrong? What did we do wrong when searching?” As far as I was concerned the hunt was over. I had my chance at a Canadian moose and blew it.

The next morning we were up as usual and woke up to rain. I had no appetite, but ate anyway and we headed out again to another location up the mountain roads. At that elevation, we were greeted with 8” of fresh, heavy snow. With a heavy heart and heavy snow and heavy boots the hike about killed me. It was primarily flat walking but my attitude was in the tank and the animals were not moving. My feet must’ve weighed fifty pounds each, my bow one hundred pounds and my soaking camo over two hundred pounds. Not to mention the rest of me. I felt like I was dragging around five hundred pounds of dead weight through waist deep snow. After five miles of agony we headed for the truck.

I was exhausted, took a nap, choked down supper because I knew I had to. Roast beef and mashed potatoes with gravy and I had to choke it down. I was a mess. The evening hunt was not much better than the morning hunt except my boots may have gotten a little lighter. By this time there was still eight inches of snow, but the sun had melted the top layer to a crust. Just one lone wolf left his tracks on this evening. All other life was silent. We again were soaked through from walking through trees and brush heavy with snow.

Tuesday morning was a slight improvement, my bow got a little lighter, the hike was a little shorter and my attitude may have been improving slightly, (Jeff may disagree) but there were no animals talking. By the evening, the snow was down to about 4” of sloppy wet mush. We took the quad (Canadian word for ATV or four-wheeler) 6 miles down a valley only to find two other hunters camped in a prime hunting area. We retreated back to the top and followed some fresh tracks. The moose were starting to move, but they were still not talking.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 5

Wednesday morning I felt better, told myself to “suck it up and get over it.” The plan was to go back to the area where I had shot the moose and hunt and search for him. This was exceptional moose country by the sign. We found several rut pits and rubs on trees and fresh tracks, but nobody was responding to Ricky’s calls. We hiked two and a half miles in and down the valley when we decided to turn back. There was no sign of my moose either. However, we followed the fresh tracks of a huge grizzly bear on the way out. They were nearly seven inches wide and I was no longer comfortable in this valley.

As we headed out of the bush we approached the intersection of the quad trail that led us up to the pipeline trail. Ricky looked back and asked “You guys ready to head out, or should we just check around this corner?” I looked at him with disappointment in my eyes and said, “Why not? Can’t hurt right?” We had no grizzly encounters, so on we went following a game trail around a nice ridgeline in an area that we had looked over when searching for my moose. Then, I caught a whiff of something unusual. Ricky’s face lit up and he ran back to me and nearly shouted “There’s your moose! Congratulations!” I couldn’t believe it! We found my moose! I was thrilled!

Then I looked at his size. He was a monster! His head, his neck, his body, his legs were huge and ripped with muscle. His coat was thick with coarse black-brown fur. His rack, the half that I saw, was amazing! Then Ricky started prancing around the dead moose with his rifle at the ready. “We need to get outta here now! Snap a picture and let’s get out of here. We need to be loud!” His attitude had changed quickly. I didn’t doubt the urgency considering the scene. I let out a huge “Yahoooooo!” and nearly ran up the ridge. A grizzly bear had been hard at work attempting to bury “my” moose and was sure to be in the area. This bear was not looking for confrontation and neither were we, until later. We were going back to camp to get more guys with more guns to retrieve at least the rack of my moose. The meat and cape were spoiled and would be left to feed the bears.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 6

We inhaled our lunch and headed back into the woods with four guys with big guns and me toting an ax and the camera. We discussed the worst case scenario. We planned the approach. We would line up on the ridge. Scan and glass the area. We would be twenty yards apart from each other, so only one would be attacked and the others would be at an appropriate distance to shoot the charging bear if necessary. We discussed it all. Make sure you don’t shoot the person if the bear is on him. The person will be ok, just make sure it’s a clear shot. Make sure no one else is in the line of fire. We were to get in and get out as quickly as possible. It was absolutely intense. We lined up. My heart again wanted to jump out of my chest. It was like an ambush on an animal we couldn’t see and didn’t want to see. We called to the bear. “Coming in, bear! Get outta here, bear! Coming in, bear!” We waited watched and approached closer. There was no movement. No bear, yet. Finally we were at the carcass. It reeked of death. Flies were everywhere. I didn’t care, it didn’t bother me.

Ricky handed me his rifle and he began cutting around the chin of the beast. The other three guns had their backs to the kill and were scanning the bush for any movement; any movement at all, but nothing. I asked if we could snap a few pictures. Ricky agreed and we hastily pulled his half buried head out of the dirt and snapped a few quick pictures and then proceeded with the task at hand. Within a minute he had it cut down to the spine and grabbed the ax. I stood on the lower antler and pulled with all my weight on the top to stretch the neck for the ax. With one motion the ax was over his head and down again. The ax smashed through the neck and the head was off. “I’ve got the head, let’s get outta here!” Ricky and I started carrying the head up the ridge and the other three guns backed up the ridge behind us with their eyes focused yet on the bush, covering our backs. We had to take turns carrying the head up the ridge. The head and rack must’ve weighed over 150 pounds.

Somehow, during the shot I blocked out all the detail of this great animal. The only thing I was focused on was the shot and its placement. The ten inches of rack that I saw through the thicket turned into a massive set of antlers with fifteen inch daggers on each side. His body size was intimidating! How did I not see that? His body was ripped with muscle that he had built up over years of scaling these valleys. His coat was so thick and soft and coarse and dark, dark brown with black and gray hair intermixed in. He was amazing! Even Rick, the owner of Wild Kakwa Outfitters congratulated me. He said, “I was wrong. You did place your shot well. We’ll have to measure him. He’s a good bull.” I replied, “I’m glad you were also wrong about the grizzly protecting his new found kill. We must’ve looked too prepared for battle.” He just smiled and we headed up the trail, all with a sense of relief and accomplishment.

 

[Bucnutz.wis]

By Cindy Braun - Page 7 (Last one)

What an emotional, intense hunt. I went from the highest highs, to the lowest lows, and back again. On top of all the turmoil surrounding the hunt, we put a tape measure to the rack. This moose not only was a trophy class bull to me, but also qualified as a Pope and Young bull with a score of 159 inches! To have the opportunity to take this quality of an animal, recover it and then find that it’s a record book sized animal was absolutely priceless.

I was completely disappointed in the loss of the meat, but thrilled to have been able to snap a few quick pictures of the kill, see and feel the grizzly’s at work and recover the trophy rack and what a story to tell. It was not for lack of effort or poor shot placement that we were not able to recover the moose. Mother Nature stepped in and yet we still did everything that we possibly could to find it.

There was no fault. The moose had spoiled by our standards, but became important sustenance for the bears and other animals for the impending winter.

Wild Kakwa Outfitters knows these mountains and completely respects the animals that live there. I owe it all to them, their professionalism and understanding of the moose. And more, I owe my moose to my husband, Jeff. Without his dream of taking a moose with the bow, I would not have taken this trip with him. It was supposed to be his trip. He was supposed to shoot a moose and I wasn’t worried whether I’d get a chance or not. But this moose, the only moose that offered a shot to either of us, stepped in front of me on the first morning of the first day. I guess it was meant to be. Had Mother Nature not stole two days of the hunt he may well have had his own story to tell.

Thank you, Jeff and thank you to everyone at Wild Kakwa! We’ll see you again next year for Jeff’s round with the Canadian Moose!

Wild Kakwa Outfitters can be reached at [email protected] or www.wildkakwaoutfit.com and 780-513-1338.