I don’t have the best track record when it comes to “Happy Birthdays”. Some my fault, many not. Over the years, my birthday has become a reminder of sorts, not something to celebrate. It’s become an annual benchmark that I have one less season left. An idea and a mindset I’ve tried to lean into since my realization of mortality many years ago. At this point in my life, I have fewer years left than I have lived. I’m past the 50% mark.
Mountain Discussion
I remember vividly sitting on the mountain, glassing for bears with my dear friend and hunting buddy, Isaac, when this exact thing was brought up. I’m fairly older than him, and he’s a helluva driving force to “keep up”. We were dwelling on age, birthdays, hunting, etc. And I simply told him, “Brother, I’m more or less done with birthdays. For me, it’s just a simple reminder that I have one less season left. We just don’t know how many we’re gonna get. How many seasons left?” For a young dude, he is an old soul. He paused, looked at me, and said, “Damn…that’s heavy”…. But we didn’t need to talk about it more. He got it.
A Calling
Fast forward several years. I felt a need —a calling, if you will —to make something fantastic happen. A considerable challenge that, when the time comes for Mother Nature to collect her due, the regret of not doing it wouldn’t be on her list…A solo DIY Alaskan moose hunt. I became unwavering in my pursuit to make this affordable, logistically possible, and physically capable. I already knew this wasn’t considered doable by many, dumb by most.
Finding a Pilot
Through countless hours of phone calls, emails, and texts, I finally found a pilot that was willing to take me on as a client. My “you don’t tell me, I tell you” mentality of a schedule was a deal breaker for almost every pilot I spoke with. Finally, I was able to find one that seemed to have a respectful laugh through most of our conversation; however, he agreed to my timeline, and ultimately, it became clear, I found my pilot.
Alaska
Texting, talking, and planning over several months leading up to the hunt, I settled on a hunt area that topographically fit my needs and his. September finally came, and I boarded my flight to Anchorage with a nervous excitement. Emotions that should conflict but combined to make an overwhelmingly positive feeling. Sweet and savory if you will. He picked me up from the airport, and after exchanging pleasantries, he said, “You ready to get out there tonight?”… It completely caught me off guard. I had planned a nice night in a hotel, getting my bags situated, and gear prepped. He simply said, “Nope, not if you want to hunt anytime soon.” Bad weather was rolling in. He had my interest in mind and wanted to get me out there as to not lose hunting days. The plan was set.
Starting The Adventure
We flew our first leg that night. A breathtaking several-hour flight through the Alaskan Range that left me short of words. The serene Alaskan beauty you only hear about I was now immersed in. We were able to beat the weather and hunkered down in a village for the evening, where we lodged in a cabin owned by an acquaintance of his. By the time we settled in, I had been up for almost 24 hours, and sitting down, my head bobbed and my eyes were heavy, inebriated with thoughts of what had been thus far and what was to be.
A Stormy Morning
The following morning came fast, and I woke up to him diligently checking his phone. The downpours were torrential, and the wind was pushing 30-40 knots. “Have your gear ready to go,” he calmly said. “If we get a break, we are out of here.” “Understood,” I replied, re-checking and re-packing my gear for what seemed to be the 100th time in the last couple of weeks.
As if it were scheduled, the weather break came. “Let’s go”. We drove to the Super Cub and loaded the plane. Everything was either a rush or a standstill. I didn’t have time to really process the emotions. This small-town kid from Ohio was getting ready to be dropped off in the bush of Alaska… alone and for an unknown length of time.
Hog Back Ridge
We landed on a ridge that reminded me of a feral hog’s back. Slightly sharp at the top, running north/south and falling down several hundred feet in all directions. The area I had picked was pretty one-dimensional. I had glassing knobs to the north and south, and the areas I could realistically pack a bull out were limited. That being said, I had an undoubted confidence in the place. I felt like it was topographically perfect for traveling bulls looking to pass on their genetics.
Starting The Hunt
Days went by. I had landed in the bush on the 3rd, and opening day was the 5th. The weather was rough throughout. Most days were heavy rain and high winds, with fog and limited visibility. I didn’t glass up my first bull until the 7th, and it was what looked to be a giant. I put the hard push on and was humbled by Alaska’s “F-You” flora. Alders and willows are something you need to experience first; make your game plan later. The moose was gone by the time I got there, but the understanding of what I was dealing with was now burned into my brain.
More bad weather. I made a conscious effort to glass during weather breaks. I used the sound of the rain coupled with the movement of my tent to judge when I had the opportunity to get some time behind the binoculars.
Bull Moose
On the 9th, during one of those breaks, I trudged to the top of the ridge, and it took me less than 30 seconds to pick up this bull making his way through the willows. Seeing this beast in person, full-bodied, was nothing short of majestic. Stoically, he strolled between alders and willows, occasionally raking larger bushes. Much like me, it seemed he had had enough of the wind and rain and bedded in short willows, leaving his antlers easily visible. It was then that I had time to run back to camp, gather my gear, and make a stalk without losing his whereabouts.
Watching his direction of movement and seeing the topography ahead, combined with the favorable wind direction, I knew I had a chance. Over the next 2 hours, I worked my way slowly and confidently to within 375 yards. Another 2+ hours passed.
The Wait
Now back behind the glass, I just needed him to stand up. I swapped out my binoculars for a gun clamp to rest my rifle in. The willows were about belly high, and getting prone wasn’t an option. It was surreal at that point. The bull stood up and presented me with a perfect broadside shot. I felt like I was in my “flow state”. If you don’t know what that is, I encourage you to look it up. I think we’ve all experienced it at some point or another in different situations, for different reasons. Two shots were fired with undeniable impact, followed by a third that was missed due to him falling as I squeezed the trigger.
Bull Down!
The bull was down. Landmarked by one of the few evergreens in the willow patch, I knew exactly where to walk. As I cautiously approached this larger-than-life quarry, my emotions were visceral. Emotions I have never known to exist, let alone ever experienced.
We did it, Pal!
I had lost one of my best friends a couple of years prior to cancer. We grew up together and shared countless hours in the woods and on the water. We talked about doing these hunts as children. He was my first and immediate thought. We were one another’s first calls after a kill. If only for a moment, the sound of his infectious laugh lifted the heavy, wet blanket of melancholy I have worn since his passing. I lay back while simultaneously laughing and crying, throwing my hands over my face, then on top of my head and saying as if he were right next to me (because I believe he absolutely was), “We did it, pal”.
Time To Reflect
Five days later, now the 14th of September, 10 total packing trips, and waiting for my pilot, I reflected on this trip, this adventure that I felt I HAD to do, more than wanted to. This strange dichotomy of the hands of life’s clock ticking louder despite its battery getting weaker should only remind us to go on the adventures, take the pictures, make the memories … because in the end, you’ll look back and think “if only I had known how many SEASONS LEFT”.
Comment or ask Jason questions about this adventure here.
