Home Forums Hunting & Shooting General Big Game Another Campfire Moose hunt in Idaho...

It started with a range-finder.

More precisely, it started with a "WTB" ad I placed here on the Campfire. I was looking for a used range-finder for my son Rowdy. He had just turned 14, and was beginning to venture out on his own in pursuit of critters. I think I had $200 at hand, and was simply looking for the best "deal" I could find. Shortly after posting the ad the blinking envelope appeared and a hunting trip for the ages was set in motion.

Greg (AH64guy) from here on the campfire responded that he had a couple of options if I was interested. We exchanged phone numbers and struck up a conversation. In what came to be a pattern, Greg stated the rangefinder in question wasn't working perfectly, and insisted I'd be doing him a favor if I would simply take it off his hands...gratis. Plainly stated, he was completely full of chit. Rowdy is 21 now and is still using that range-finder whilst finishing his senior year in college. It still works perfectly for the record. He simply wanted to do something nice while being as low-key as possible about it. That would be the pattern in the years to follow.

I tried to make a habit of sending field photos of Rowdy's adventures with said rangefinder along the way. Greg genuinely seemed to enjoy the photos, and it was a nice conduit to continue various hunting/life conversations. The military had taken him out east, but he'd grown up just a few miles north of Moscow and the University of Idaho where we'd both graduated from college. Greg was more than a little tickled when Rowdy later decided that was where he'd also be attending school.

As it happened, Greg was still coming out to Idaho each fall on an archery hunt for elk a few hours north of my home in Boise. We were finally able to link up for dinner a few years ago before he flew home at the conclusion to one of his hunts. He was just as affable in person as he was in electronic communications. He also kept sending things to Rowdy....muzzle-loaders he wasn't using, nice KUIU gear he'd "outgrown", AR parts he said he didn't need. I very much appreciated all of it, but at some point I started to feel terribly guilty about how decidedly one-sided this friendship had become...at least in terms of material things. One night I had an epiphany...I could host him for a moose hunt and maybe try and balance the ledger a bit.

I'd already offered as much to Tim (TDN) here on the Campfire, as we had exchanged various hunts over the years. I had Greg and Tim start putting in for a particular moose hunt I've had success with a couple of years ago. To my utter shock, Tim drew a NR moose tag in the unit on his first try! That hunt was chronicled for the Campfire shortly thereafter...MOOSE HUNT #1.

It was an amazing hunt. A great time with a great friend. It would be hard to top quite frankly. The most difficult portion would be simply drawing the tag. Unlike Tim, Greg's application would be a part of the resident pool which gave him considerably better odds...which is to say still in the single digits, but certainly more likely than Tim. SOMEONE has to draw as they say. I think it was late June when I found myself slack-jawed and looking at a screenshot from Greg that read "successful for moose applicaiton"...or something to that effect. Holy chit...we were going moose hunting!

The season is extremely long, so we had some flexibility in deciding dates. For reasons I won't bore you with, we settled on the first week of November. It would hopefully be late enough for the leaves to have dropped and assist with long-range glassing, but early enough that we wouldn't be battling snow the entire time. I would leave the mountains of central Idaho on the 27th of October from my own elk/deer hunt, and pick Greg up late that night from the airport in Boise. We'd depart the next morning on the 28th. I'd also invited a colleague/friend of mine (Randy) to join us. Randy has been applying for the unit for several years and wanted to be a part of the fun. Randy has been around the block as they say, and I knew he'd add value to the camp and he and Greg would likely get along. For the record, I was right on both accounts.

Greg's flight was a little delayed, but sometime after 1 am we got back to my house and Greg sauntered off to bed in the guest room. The alarm sounded extra shrill when it began shrieking at me at 6am the following morning. We hastily re-packed my pickup and brewed some coffee for the road. Randy pulled up in front of the house at 7:30 sharp, and our little caravan pulled out of Boise at 8am on the button.

The drive took considerably longer than I had anticipated, as the roads were a bit greasy coming in. It didn't help that I kept stopping to glass as we entered the hunt unit. The good news was that I spotted the distinct outline of three moose on a distant ridge I knew we'd be hunting the following morning. Even at a distance of a few miles, I could make out their paddles through my binoculars. Seeing those three bulls really had everyone excited when we pulled up and hurriedly began setting camp. We were rapidly running out of daylight when Greg finished pounding the last of the tent-stakes.....




 
To be continued....

I've been patiently waiting for one of these threads Dave, looking forward to the full story.

I can already tell this will be a good one!

Yep - gonna be good!

Looking forward as well.

yea me to , Dave posts great hunting trips

continued.....

Let me state for the record that Greg knows his way around a grill like no one I have ever shared a camp with. I LOVE to eat good food in hunting camp, but my apathy towards cooking generally leads me down the path of least resistance. It's usually sandwiches or Mountain Houses for lunch, and hot-dogs/hamburgers most evenings. There would be none of that for this camp. The highlight of the trip was when he decided to fire up the "slow cooker"....a device I had never heard of in the hunting camp context. It looked like a medieval cauldron of sorts, but the smells emanating from it could not be ignored...





Randy worked for the Sheriff's office for 30 years and is generally not an easy man to impress. I knew Greg had done something special when Randy shoved me out of the way as he sprinted back for seconds. It would have been delicious if cooked in the confines of a full restaurant. To have made something so delicious with nothing more than a pot on the griddle was borderline scorcery....



I digress however. We went to bed with full bellies and hope in our hearts for the morning to follow. The route in to where I wanted to hunt was in bad shape, so we decided on a late start to avoid navigation in the dark that first morning. It goes against all of my hunting instincts to leave camp that late, but it was the right call given the circumstances. We were only halfway to our intended destination when I glassed a small herd of elk on a distant hillside. Randy had pulled a cow elk tag and could have rightly made a run after them, but unselfishly insisted we "get to the moose area" so as not to give away any of Greg's hunting time. We loaded back in the UTVs and continued on our way.

As we neared the first good area to hike over for a peek, I had Randy and Greg stay put while I scooted down the hill for a quick look. I hadn't gone a hundred yards when I bumped a cow/calf pair, and a small bull moose just down the hill. It got my heart racing, but ceratinly wasn't the quality of animal we had spent weeks talking about finding. I climbed back up to the UTVs and we proceeded on our way.

A mile of so later I eased the UTV over and grabbed my pack in anticipation of hiking to our glassing spot. Just as Greg and Randy pulled in behind me, I caught a glimpse of a couple of dark spots a mile or so down the ridge from us. I threw up the binos and immediately knew I was looking at a mature bull likely over 40", and a smaller, but still nice bull in the mid-30s. Randy has been around me enough to read me, and said "You see something don't you?" before I could even think to mention what I was looking at. "Weelll", I said, "let me get the spotter on him before I say something stupid".

I dropped my pack and ripped my spotter out as quickly as I could. A quick adjustment on the focus ring brought a VERY impressive bull into focus. My first instinct was that I was looking at a mid-high 40's bull, with good eye-guards and solid paddles. Randy dropped in behind the spotter and a sharp intake of breath proceeded him saying, "That is a really, really nice bull".

Greg and I had spent months talking about what his expectations were. I told him the floor was 40", and something that impressed us both. Greg's aspirations were much more modest. He said he wanted to "have a memorable hunt with good people" and anything over 30" would be just fine by him....and even that number was malleable as it pertained to proximity to a route we could get the UTVs to. He had arrived in Boise with the WORST respiratory infection I've ever heard in my life. Randy has had more knee surgeries than most people have fingers and toes. Thusly, Greg was feeling extremely sheepish about the prospect of me having to pack an entire moose out solo. We had a week to hunt though, and I repeatedly told him I could get a moose out of anywhere he could shoot one in four days at most, and likely half that. "You shoot it Greg, and let me worry about getting it out" was a statement I made no less than a dozen times leading up to that moment.

The bull walked into some brush before I could get Greg on the spotter, but he seemed completely indifferent. "You two seem impressed. That's good enough for me". He was still more than a mile distant, so we took off at a fast clip to cut the distance a bit. Randy would stay behind on the spotter to watch the show, and report their departure route if they gave us the slip.

Here is Greg just before we left the UTVs. This is my absolute favorite part of any hunt, and one that I crave for months before and after hunting season. That part where you've just spotted something, and the unknown is about to unfold as you begin the chase...



It's also a good opportunity to point out how absurdly long his rifle is. I'll be making fun of this flag-pole for all my days to come....

to be continued....

Good deal!

I am pretty sure I saw Greg and that rifle today in McCalla Creek, Montana. It is hard to not notice a 30" bbl before the can on it: it'll really will make you look twice!

I must say that burgers and even Mountain House is way fancier than what I usually have for dinner at camp. You all are FANCY.

Good stuff!

Thank you for taking the time to share. Always look forward to your stories.

continued...

I thought I'd made a good mark on the stand of quakies the bulls walked into, but as we crested the last little rise between us and the moose I couldn't make out either of them. It looked too open to be hiding two moose, each the size of a small car,....but it's not the first time I've seen it happen. We were only about 300 yards out from their last known location, so I sat down and started picking apart the brush as best I could with my glass. It took me a couple of minutes, but I finally caught the tell-tale flash of a paddle in and amongst the brush and quakies. I felt a sense of relief knowing they were still in play for us, but didn't see an obvious path to success from our current location.

I suggested we stay above them and keep the thermals in our favor as we made our way around them to get a different, and hopefully more open line of sight. Greg stayed right on my hip as we moved past them and began our descent down a small finger ridge. We couldn't see them at all, but it didn't seem like they were in any big hurry to vacate the little patch they were currently in. I'd take two steps and glass into the thick brush. Lather, rinse, repeat for the next 100 yards. I finally I caught sight of the small bull staring at us from behind one of the few pine trees in their vicinity. He didn't seem particularly alarmed as Greg and I dropped down into a kneeling position. It seemed like we had a few pretty good shooting lanes in front of us, so we decided so set up and wait to see if the bigger bull would give us an opportunity.

It's not terribly clear, but you can make out the white paddle of the smaller bull near the center of this photo.



Here is Greg waiting patiently on the bigger bull to give him a shot opportunity. We could sort of make out the dark outline approximately 10 yards uphill of the smaller bull, but certainly nothing in the way of a clear shooting lane.



It seemed like a literal eternity, but was probably closer to 10 minutes before we both caught sight of the larger bull making his way downhill and presumably into one of the shooting lanes. I heard the safety flicked off just as the larger bull cleared a small pine and stepped into a nice opening. I was just starting to whisper "shoot" when the rifle barked...he didn't need me to tell him when the opportunity was there. I heard a distinct "whack" as the 200 grain Accubond found it's way home. Greg racked the bolt while I watched the bull stumble about 10 yards and slowly tip over. There would be no need for a follow-up shot. Greg stood up and I snapped this photo just before he threw me into a big, bear-hug.



to be continued....

RIGHT !!!!

Congrats on getting Greg his bull. Pretty dang cool.
Bruce

Doncha love it when a plan comes together. 😁


That rifle looks as long as I am tall. “Flag pole” is right. It was the first thing I noticed in that photo.

Most Excellent, can't wait for the rest.

Ah64 has it down pat. Cheapest velocity gain there is , a long barrel. Not a problem in open country either. Damn sure you can bet he isn't a card carrying member of the SBWC either. Good job.mb

I don’t remember walking over. I never do in these circumstances. As ridiculous as the flag-pole looked, I couldn’t argue the effects of the suppressor. The smaller bull acted like he never heard the report, and seemed quite surprised when we stepped out of the brush in close proximity…



About the time he trotted off, we caught our first glimpse of Greg’s bull. “Are you happy?” I asked. Greg broke into a wide grin by way of response. He was a great bull, and we took a minute to soak it in. Here is how we found him…



He was big from any angle….



To be continued…

A horse with antlers. Nice bull. 😊

That is a dandy! Fantastic!

Yeah that is a good one. Congrats to all well done
.mb