[Rhodes22-list] Hunting Moose

[Slim]

Ed, I'm glad you mentioned the pictures.  I read the story but didn't notice
the pics posted at the bottom.  Wow!!  And I didn't think a .44 mag would
drop a bear in his tracks like that.  Double wow!

I'm not a big game hunter but I'm a pretty good wing shot if I do say so
myself.  I use a Rem 870 Wingmaster, of course.  And I have a Govt. Colt .45
just for fun.  

Slim

On 10/31/06 4:24 PM, "Tootle" <ekroposki at charter.net> wrote:

> 
> Hank,
> 
>    I enjoyed the story and the pictures.  I only carry a 357, so maybe I
> need to move up.  But then I have no intenion of going hunting in Alaska.  I
> am strickly in the southern appalacians and my 357 should suffice.  However,
> the local ferel hogs are quite big.  They are the only critters that will
> attack.  The coyotes, bears and moutain lions don't.   But we do get some
> big snakes around here.
> 
>      I am waiting to see the hate mail you get.
> 
> Ed K
> Greenville, SC, USA
> addendum:  "chairman - person who sits in front of and directs the operation
> of a small pot still."
> 
> 
> 
> Hank-5 wrote:
>> 
>> If any of you guys are into hunting you'll like this story my Uncle sent
>> me.
>> 
>> Hank
>> 
>> This is what I call gun control. - nfs
>> 
>> 
>> 
>> We all have read about or seen movies entitled, "The Longest Day," "The
>> Longest Yard," "or The Longest Mile." Well, I am going to tell you about
>> "The Longest Minute" of my life.
>> 
>> Reed Thompson and I had been hunting hard for five days. The day was
>> Thursday, September 7, 2006. The weather had turned from beautiful sunny
>> skies to gale force winds and the blasting rain that comes with fall
>> storms.
>> Never has the weather dictated hunting time to us, so out we ventured into
>> the Alaska bush. Not seeing a single bull for several days, we decided to
>> hunt an area downstream that had always produced one.
>> 
>> Late in the evening, we were walking down a raised half mile long finger
>> of
>> ground that was full of grass and alders. This turf was slightly higher
>> than
>> the swampy tundra on either side of it. We had slogged across the swamp as
>> quickly as possible, during a sudden deluge, to get to the downwind point.
>> Our hope was that our passage would not be observed with the sudden
>> increased wind and rain. About halfway down the finger, Reed turned to me
>> and said, "I think there is a moose up ahead. It looks like two white
>> sticks
>> in the grass. It would surprise me if it was not a moose." I glassed the
>> area about one hundred yards ahead and to the left. With Reed's help, I
>> zeroed in on the two white sticks and watched them for several minutes.
>> With
>> the slightest movement, the two sticks transformed into a white paddle and
>> then back to the two sticks. The bull had moved his head ever so slightly.
>> 
>> I moved my scope out to ten-power and focused in on the two white sticks
>> as
>> Reed moved about ten yards further down the high ground. Then as Reed
>> focused on the white points, I moved to his location for a better shot.
>> Reed
>> began moving toward our quarry as I watched for movement though the scope.
>> With nothing solid or high enough to rest my rifle on, I was forced to aim
>> free-hand. When Reed had taken a few steps, I saw the horns rock to the
>> right and then back to the left. The big boy then stood up and was looking
>> directly our way. Even with the forty mile an hour winds blowing directly
>> at
>> us, he sensed our presence. I squeezed off a round from my Browning .338
>> and
>> felt good about the shot, but the bull took two or three steps to my right
>> and disappeared out of sight behind some alders. Reed could still see him
>> and shouted, "Do you want me to shoot him?" I yelled back at him to go
>> ahead
>> because I did not want the bull running too far. I heard his shot as I was
>> scrambling forward to get a better look. After a thirty yard hustle, I was
>> able to see the huge fellow still standing. I put another shot into him
>> and
>> watched him drop. We both hesitantly, but with great excitement,
>> approached
>> this giant and realized that he was dead.
>> 
>> This was a mature bull with a beautiful rack and the biggest body mass I
>> had
>> ever seen. The fun was definitely over; now, the real work was read to
>> begin. After consulting the GPS, we noted that we were a half mile from
>> the
>> slough and boat. It was decided that both of us should return to the boat
>> to
>> discard unnecessary items and return with the gear needed to prepare and
>> pack out the meat. We placed red and blue handkerchiefs high in an alder
>> bush so that the sight could be located from the adjacent high ground.
>> This
>> was the easiest half mile hike of the day. I was pumped up and excited
>> beyond explanation.
>> 
>> At the boat, we left our heavy rifles. We gathered our pack frames, game
>> bags, ropes and knives. After Reed repositioned the boat, to compensate
>> for
>> the upcoming low tide, I asked him, with hand signals, if he remembered to
>> get the handguns. He did not understand my award winning charade
>> performance, but I let it pass after observing his revolver strapped to
>> his
>> chest.
>> 
>> Upon returning to the moose, we were hot, sweaty, and wet. The rain had
>> abated for awhile, so we removed our rain gear and hung them in a small
>> tree
>> about five yards perpendicular to the moose belly. Reed removed his
>> revolver, hung it on a branch opposite his jacket, and brought to my
>> attention that it was hanging there.
>> 
>> With darkness approaching, we decided on removing the top front and rear
>> quarters, tie them to our pack frames, gut him out, and then roll the
>> behemoth over to cool through the night. We would return in the morning to
>> finish up. Two non-spoken traditions when hunting are: whoever pulls the
>> trigger 1) does the gutting and 2) hauls the horns out of the woods.
>> 
>> After removing the two quarters, it was time to remove the internal
>> organs.
>> After cutting, tearing, and ripping, I had removed all but the heart and
>> part of the esophagus. Darkness was settling in pretty fast and I could
>> barely move my arms. At this point, Reed said that he would trade places
>> with me. Instead of moving up behind the moose, I just scooted to the rear
>> leg area and watched Reed crawl up inside the gut cavity. After a couple
>> of
>> cuts the ordeal was over. As Reed pulled the heart out and tossed it
>> behind
>> us, a loud "HUFF" snapped us to our feet. Turning around, we saw standing
>> before us, on his hind legs a large, chocolate brown grizzly bear.
>> 
>> The next minute seemed to last an eternity. The term surreal is so over
>> used, but the next minute was dreamlike, bizarre, fantastic, and unreal.
>> The
>> bear was standing next to the tree where the pistol was hanging. We both
>> started shouting and waving our arms back and forth, as we moved somewhat
>> to
>> our right, toward the tail end of the moose. The bear came down off his
>> back
>> legs, onto all fours, and started circling to his right -- toward the head
>> of the bull. My only thought was to get to the gun so that we could scare
>> him off. I sensed that he charged us from the head of the moose as I broke
>> for the gun. Reed commented later that the bear vaulted over the moose and
>> went straight for him. Halfway to the tree, I tripped on a fallen log and
>> went down on all fours. From my peripheral vision on my right, I saw the
>> bear going after Reed, who had moved into the tall (5 foot) grass. It
>> appeared that the bear had knocked Reed down and was standing over him. My
>> worst fear was that my friend was being mauled. did not know how I would
>> get
>> him back to the boat and then home.
>> 
>> I grabbed the holster but was unable to remove the revolver, regardless of
>> how hard I tugged. As I looked up, I saw the bear charging toward me. I
>> started backing up as I continued screaming and hollering at the bear. I
>> was
>> frustrated that the pistol would not break free from the holster. With the
>> bear almost on top of me, I fell over another log. I did a back drop and
>> felt him grab my left leg. His huge head was above my lap, just out of
>> reach
>> of my holstered club. I tried to hit him with the pistol but a crazy
>> thought
>> entered my mind that I could scare him into thinking I was going to shoot
>> by
>> waving it back and forth. Unable to remove the pistol from the holster, I
>> tried to shoot through it, but the strap held the hammer down on the
>> single
>> action revolver. Just when I thought all was lost, the bear rose up,
>> pivoted
>> 90 degrees to his left, and was gone. The grizzly had charged back in the
>> direction of Reed as he had jumped up and yelled once again. Later, Reed
>> stated that he had seen the bear knock me down and thought he was mauling
>> me. The thought entered his mind that he was a goner. He was alone in the
>> grass with no weapon. I was down and I had the gun. When the bear started
>> moving toward him, Reed dropped back down into the low wallow area where
>> he
>> had fallen during the initial charge. Reed saw the bear face about a foot
>> from his own. He could hear the bear trying to sniff him out. At that
>> point,
>> the bear stood up, pivoted to his right, and charged back to me.
>> 
>> When Reed distracted the bear from its attack on me, I had time to
>> concentrate on the holster. I saw a buckle with a strap running through
>> it.
>> I could not figure out how it held the gun in place, so I grabbed the
>> buckle
>> and attempted to rip it off. To my surprise, the buckle was actually a
>> snap
>> and the strap peeled away. As I pulled the revolver out, a sudden calm
>> came
>> over me, and I knew everything would be fine. I looked in the direction of
>> Reed only to once again see the bear charging at me. He was about ten feet
>> away coming up and over the initial log that I had tripped over. That was
>> when I pointed the revolver and fired at center mass. The .44 magnum
>> boomed
>> in the night and the bear fell straight down, his head three feet away
>> from
>> where I stood. As he fell, he bit at the ground and ended up with a
>> mouthful
>> of sod. I stood in a dumbfounded stupor. I had no expectation that the
>> pistol would kill the bear. My hope was that the shot would sting the bear
>> and help scare him away along with the flame and loud report. As his head
>> sagged to the ground, I shot him three more times in quick succession, out
>> of fear and anger.
>> 
>> My next sensation was hearing Reed voice ask if the bear was dead. I
>> answered, "Yes." He then yelled at me to save the rest of the rounds
>> because
>> we still had to walk out, and he did not have any more bullets with him.
>> The
>> minute was over. We hugged each other for a long time, before packing out
>> the two quarters.
>> 
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