A hunt to remember

My brother Chris said when
he woke up Saturday morning he felt like it was going to be a good
day.  As for me, any day I can stumble out of my house without
running into something is a plus.  So we were off to a good start.
Going hunting with my father and brother is something I don’t do
often enough and I was really looking forward to it.  I knew that if
we didn’t get a moose, at least we’d enjoy a day in the outdoors
having a barrel of fun trading enough yarns to fill a book.  I’ve
said it before and I’ll say it again;  I come from a whole family of
characters, I’m just the only one who writes stuff down.

As we travelled to the
area we were going to hunt, I peered out the window in the darkness,
wondering if the moose gods would smile upon us.  It was day three of
the three day hunt, and so far all Dad had seen were some tracks,
which are pretty hard to cook.  If he didn’t get anything this time,
we would have to get pretty inventive with the frying pan.  Slowly,
we made our way past the woodlot that had been harvested recently,
which was our destination.  As the light chased away the darkness, I
imagined an army of moose running and hiding as we approached,
sticking their tongues out at us if moose can do such a thing.

It was still too early, so
we drove past our spot, turned and came back, giving the animals

moose can be hard to see at the best of times

ample time to make their escape.  When we returned it was light
enough to hunt, but mother nature wasn’t being very cooperative.  It
was cloudy, damp and a mist rose from the ground in the clearing.  As
another yarn was being shared, I stared out the window.  Then I saw
it.  The outline of a large animal.  “Stop!”  I butted in,
“There’s a moose!”

My father got out of the
van and took aim as my brother and I stared breathlessly out the
windows.  I have no problem admitting I wouldn’t have been able to
make the shot, unless I had a grenade launcher.  It was just too far
and poor visibility to boot.  After what seemed like an eternity the
moose started to move.  It turned broadside to us.  The rifle
cracked, cutting through the morning stillness like a sword.  Dad’s
shot was perfect.  The moose fell as my brother and I yelled out in
unison, “You got it!”

I said recently in a blog
that my father had done a lot of things well in his life.  I forgot

Being a meat shop owner for years, Dad does an expert job of dressing the carcass

to mention what a marksman he his.  Turns out, the moose was 150+
yards away, and he got it in poor conditions with no scope.  Just open sights.  Old school. That’s something to be proud of right there.  After some hard work, we had the beast loaded and delivered to the wardens and then the meat shop.  Skinned and dressed, the
animal weighed 430 lbs, the size of a young beef.  That would’ve made
it close to 800lbs on the hoof.  A big animal.

I saw a lot in the woods
that morning.  More than just a successful hunt.  I saw that you can

beat the clock, at least for a little while anyways.  In the dim
morning light, my father was young again.  In an instant he became
the man I knew as a child.  The best hunter as he made the perfect
shot,  the fastest as he beat my brother and I to the downed moose,
and the happiest as exclaimed how great it was to be there with us to
share it.  For a little while, in a clearing in the woods, I watched
thirty years melt away before my eyes.  It was magic.   And I
wouldn’t have missed any of it for the world.  Way to go dad!

This entry was posted in autumn, hunting and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to A hunt to remember

  1. Amber Beshara says:

    What a beautiful story. Nothing greater than spending time with family & to get the moose was just a bonus. Happy times & good eating guys.

  2. Kermit says:

    Your stories are all great…but this one was awesome.. …

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