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Moose hunting is quite a big thing up here, and understandably so. Moose are not only very large animals and quite a trophy, the meat is exceptionally good, and substitutes for beef very well. And, meat in the stores here is expensive. So it just stands to reason that many people plan on a moose a year to help fill the freezer. ERRRR..... or, a box on the porch, during winter. Don't have to worry about overflowing your freezer here in the winter! The photos I have here are from last year, and were taken at Jim’s hunting camp, north of Fairbanks. The top photo is of the slough that comes into the river at this point. The slough wanders back into the wilderness for many miles, and is very good at producing moose. Jim has a small cabin here, and just comes up, makes camp, watches the slough. When a moose comes through, someone shoots it. If you look, you can see the big beaver dam on the left edge of the slough. They may do a lot of active trapping in this area, but from what I’ve seen, the beaver thrive on it, because they are EVERYWHERE! In fact, a recent newspaper article was telling us that there are so many beavers here that the state has to pay crews to dig beaver dams out of drainage pipes under the state highways, every year. Last year, moose hunting season came just a month after I arrived in Fairbanks. Jim was not going to go, but on two occasions when we made trips out of town, he carried two guns in the front seat with us. One was a .22 rifle with scope, which he uses for "bird" (grouse), and the other was his moose-hunting gun. Then, our friend Jesse returned from his hunting trip (got a moose early), so we all decided to take a day for moose hunting. We threw stuff together, piled into Jim’s airboat, and headed upriver to his hunting camp. Jim had told a friend he could use it the weekend before, as he was taking his kids moose hunting, but he expected them to be gone. It is about an hour and a half by airboat to the camp, but before we arrived there we knew they were still there. We ran into them on the river in a zodiac. They were still using the camp, so we decided to go on up and have lunch there, and unless a moose came during lunch, would go back downriver and hunt another location. It was all very different to me¾ not what I was used to seeing in the outdoors. The rivers fold back upon themselves many, many times. They do not have the steep drop that rivers do in California, because the mountains are not high as they are there. The trees are different, and the boggy places were something I had not seen at all. As were the sloughs, which were everywhere, snaking off into the wilderness to the left and right. Beaver dams, beaver ponds, and signs of beaver were everywhere. This was no manicured river, nor was it swept clean by winter and spring rain. "Spring Breakup" tore up banks and downed trees; log jams and trees hanging precariously overhead, were the rule, coming in some form around most every bend. It was a wild-looking land--and that's exactly what it is. Only the airboat or a canoe has access to the portion of river we traveled, and it was not into "man’s territory" that we ventured, but into "wilderness." You had better be prepared to handle whatever nature and wildlife can deal when you enter this area. We ate lunch at the hunting camp, Jesse lingering over the MRE’s that he loves to eat, while Jim and I had to be content with freshly made sandwiches that tasted scrumptious, around a campfire. A small ground squirrel came within a few feet of me, holding a nut in his mouth, and then scampered back home to store it away. As they talked hunting (that’s what they were doing in the lower photo), I took photos and watched the squirrel scamper to and fro, gathering things as fast as he could. There was a squirrel outside my apartment at the time, and he, too, seemed frantic during the day at that time of year to work every second, bringing as much food and nesting material as possible, to make his winter home comfortable. He kept stealing the fringe on a throw rug I had put outside the door on the balcony, and the third time or so that Jim opened the door and told him to "Scat!" he stuffed as much of it in his mouth as he could, and tried to take the entire rug! It was funny! Well, back on the river we did not see a moose, so we headed downriver again, to another spot Jim was familiar with. When he pulled over to the bank and I got out of the boat, it was obvious that this had been someone’s camp at some time. Jim said a friend used it as a base when moose hunting. The forest was thick with spruce here, and as we began walking along the bank of a slough, the guys were being very quiet. I assumed they did not want to disturb any unsuspecting moose, so I was quiet also. The ground underneath was covered with moss and lichen (this sort of looks like miniature Spanish moss… or a cross between that and regular moss, but is almost white. It is a great favorite of caribou, I learned. Our footsteps were hushed, and I soon realized we were on a moose trail. Moose, however, have very long legs, and things they step right over, were not quite so easy for me. I was busy scrambling up, over, under and around fallen trees and obstacles. The trail veered away from the slough, and then back again, and as he rounded a low-hanging branch of a spruce on the bank, Jim stopped and plucked something from it and was scrutinizing it (he even smelled it!). I was just grateful for a chance to rest for a moment. It seemed we’d come ten miles, but it was not nearly that far. As he continued to look at whatever it was, I finally asked about it. He looked at me a long time before he said "Grizzly hair…" Wow! In all the excitement about everything, I had completely forgotten about the bears!!! How could I have done that? Well, the hair on my neck certainly stood straight up now! As I looked at the light brown hair, it certainly looked like the hair of any grizzly I’d seen on TV. As we trudged on, the guys were ever more alert, and then it occurred to me that Jim was keeping in front of me, Jesse behind me, so I was protected on both sides. I was struck, on our very first trip anywhere, at the change in Jim when we stepped out of the vehicle in the bush. No matter what he was doing, he was either holding a gun, or it was within reach, and he kept making sure he knew exactly where it was. His eyes roved all the time. He was always highly alert, and it was evident that he knew he was in someone else’s territory. Nowhere I have ever been in the lower 48 has evoked that feeling, but it is necessary here. This is true wilderness, and a little uncomfortable at first. Well, okay… I was glued to his side. We walked on for another few minutes, and then Jim stopped where a small bluff met the slough, and said we’d wait there. Jesse described a place where he’d be, further up the trail, and we parted. Jim sat down on the trail in the sun, leaned back and shaded his eyes with his "Jim Alaska" hat, folded his arms across his chest, said to let him know if I saw a moose, and prepared to go to sleep! Well! I opened my mouth a couple of times and then shut it again… looked up the bluff behind us and noticed that it certainly could be a place where a grizzly could be, looked across the slough into the thick forest… Then I noticed he was peeking out at me with one eye open, and a big grin on his face. I punched him at least three times (very quietly, so I did not disturb any animals) and he laughed a lot (also very quietly). We spent 2-3 hours there on the bank talking in the sun, but never saw a moose. We finally walked up the slough to get Jesse, and on the way back, I discovered half a moose-jaw, bleached white by the sun. I brought it home as a momento. Jim said he had one, and I now have both mounted on the wall, one bleached white, one dark brown. They face opposite ways, but are mounted one above the other, and from a distance appear to be some kind of Viking ships, with the teeth being "rowers." I will have to take a photo to show you. Our trip home was pretty uneventful, which is a good trip in an airboat. There are a couple of other things to add, however. When Jim spoke to Mark--the friend using the hunting camp, he said he was on his way down to pick up his wife. That same evening, she bagged her first moose there, and it was a great one! Jim has photos of Bonni and her moose on his hunting page. (You'll find a link to it on our Index page) Another thing I wanted to mention was a place we stopped to visit on the way in to the hunting camp. It was the cabin of August Lohi. When I was in California, Jim sent me the notes he had on August, and I was fascinated. And now, here I was at his cabin. It was like stepping back in time. Jim has August's story on a page here. The log cabin was low to the ground, and although it had been in a large clearing, saplings and brush have grown waist-high. The cabin is infrequently used by its owners, but the clearing is discernible where they have cleared it from time to time. The roof of the cabin extends out about six feet beyond the front wall, giving a protected porch, and in rafters overhead are stored all sorts of hand tools used by August Lohi to keep his world intact. Hanging from a nail on the porch is a rusty thermometer that will register down to –80 degrees. A dog sled rests up against the side of the cabin, and in a semi-circle in front of the cabin are steep-roofed dog houses for his dogs. Further, the remains of a large teepee for storage, and under the trees on two sides are large stacks of wood… probably 15-20 cords, I’d say. There were several rusted out barrel stoves tossed into the underbrush behind the cabin, and down near the slough running by the cabin was an elaborate water system he had set up, that is unnoticeable except for the sound, the area is so overgrown. The front door and windows all around are protected by bear boards. Jim has adapted these to keep bears from his prospecting equipment out in the field. Bear boards are a great example of Alaska ingenuity. Essentially, they are pieces of plywood with nails or wood screws poking through, and placed with the nails facing out… or up, as the case may be. Bears do avoid things protected by them. They just have to be large enough to not allow them access. They must have to step on the boards, or have to get through them, for them to work. Well, that ended my first moose hunting trip. This year I could not go. We were moving in just a few
days, and I had only the weekend to pack, so… Jim went with Mark
(Middleton), for a three-day
trip. That is a very short one, but they did get one moose. I’ll have photos of it (I
just found out) as soon as I can get the film in his camera developed.
Jim usually does a lot of grouse hunting at about the same time of year, mostly because he lived out in Two Rivers for many years, and had time in the evenings and mornings to drive around and pick them off in the areas they like to frequent. Last year he did not have that much time... he was dating someone in town (me!), and did a lot of driving back and forth to town... so he did not get a lot of grouse. On one of our trips (to Circle City), he did get a few alongside the road the other side of Central. It is a small, two-lane road traveling through forest, and the fall leaves covered the edges of the road in many places. As we whooshed by some grouse on the opposite edge of the highway, they froze. Jim stopped and turned around as soon as he could, and we went back. They were there, still sitting, frozen in time. He got out and stood behind the door, aimed and fired. The gun mis-fired. The accommodating grouse just sat there, frozen in position, waiting while he reloaded, took aim and fired again. At that point they flew. There had been half-a-dozen in sight, but another half-dozen or so flew from the bush, and he shot several more. The problem with that is that the ground cover is so thick that it is impossible to find all of them.
So, these are the ones he was able to find. He did get more, but not as many as he is used to getting. They are very good eating, and we are still enjoying grouse that just pop up where you least expect them. You simply have to be ready for them when they are there... Jim uses a .22 rifle with scope for them and shoots them in the head. That way none of the meat is ruined from the shot. Let us hear from you! Send email and let us know what you think of this page, and the others on our website. It would help if you let us know what page you are looking at when you write, but please write! Copyright 1999-2006, all rights reserved
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Moos
(See photo below)