The perfect place for BOB.
I didn’t apply for a moose tag this year since we didn’t
need a full moose (especially with a bison in our freezer). Kevin didn’t draw a
moose tag either and wanted to go, so we planned a general harvest hunt back in
a place we went prior… Minto. The first time we were in Minto, we barely
scratched the surface of possibilities, yet we both brought home a moose. We
were hoping to expand on that experience this year and get a dandy for Kevin.
We would take BOB on this adventure. BOB, short for Blood On
Board, is our 18’ freighter canoe with a 23hp surface drive motor. This thing
is made for hunting shallow swamps with its UHMW bottom, ability to cut through
weeds, incredible fuel efficiency, heavy hauling capability, and light enough
for a couple guys to lift. Minto is BOB’s perfect playground.
We did a little map planning for potential routes and places
to hunt, but nothing major since we had been there prior.
Day 1
It takes about 10 hours of driving to get to Minto, and we
need to launch in the morning for our hunt, so we plan for a day of driving and
then starting the hunt early the next day.
I had BOB on the trailer ready to go when Keven came over in
the morning. We were taking his truck since my truck has been fairly unreliable
lately. We were all loaded up and hit the road at 9AM. It was raining when we left
and continued to do so most of the drive.
Driving the highways this time of year is interesting… the
terrain and surroundings are beautiful with fall colors, but the best part is
seeing all the hunting rigs coming out of the field with racks stacked on the
trailers and vehicles. Unfortunately, we didn’t see many antlers on our drive;
hopefully this wasn’t foreshadowing.
Once we got above Fairbanks, we started to see a bunch of
grouse along the road. We didn’t have a good way to keep them from spoiling or
else we would have had fun trying to put a few in the truck. Although we didn’t
shoot one, Kevin did end up hitting one with his truck (no way of salvaging
that thing).
We got to Minto a little before 7PM, drove around the village
to see if anything changed, searched for cell phone service, then returned to a
pull out just outside of town along the highway. This is where we would stay
the night in the truck… which I absolutely hate doing but refuse to dig out the
tent and setup everything for camping.
We got out our makeshift dinners and settled in for a movie
while we ate. I think we now have a new
tradition before we hunt Minto, because both times now we watched a terrible
movie to cap off the first day of traveling.
Day 2
We got up around 6:30AM… or should I say Kevin did, because I
barely slept. Scrunched in a car seat and listening to the freight train coming
out of Kevin’s nose all night meant I was doomed to not get any sleep.
It was dumping rain when we woke up, so we weren’t in a huge
hurry knowing it would be pretty bad on the open water. I had an important
email I had to send for work that I committed to prior to knowing we wouldn’t
have service. Kevin was very understanding so we drove around looking for a
patch of service. We ended up having to drive away from Minto a few miles
before we got high enough above everything to get service. I was shocked to see
even more grouse all over the road this early in the morning during a huge
downpour.
After that debacle, we headed to the boat launch. It was
still dumping so we decided to relax in the truck, hoping for a break in
weather to unload and boat in. It wasn’t until after 9AM when the rain started
to let up. We figured it was going to rain on us all day, so this lighter rain
was our chance for it to not suck as bad. We got out and quickly put on our warm
clothes, waders, and rain gear, trying to stay as dry as possible during the
transition.
It took a bit to load up BOB since we had to empty it to take
it off the trailer, then reload it with evenly distributed weight. I estimate
that this process takes about 45 minutes, especially because we need to make
sure we don’t forget anything, and we know where all our gear is.
We eventually pushed off for our hunt and headed to our Plan
A location. Along the way we saw six moose, one of which was a spike-fork bull.
The spike-fork was legal to shoot and he was along the edge of the river we
were in at the time. I wasn’t there to shoot a dink, but it was a good thing I
was driving. Kevin nearly jumped out of the boat knowing a legal bull was
within shooting range, but he would have had to swim to go after it since I
refused to stop.
We had some minor motor issues along the way with the motor
pulsing and not idling smoothly. This was likely caused by a gunked up carburetor
and failing fuel pump. I had an extra fuel pump, but it wasn’t catastrophic
enough to change.
Plan A involved getting to a huge lake off the main river,
connected by a small stream. This lake and stream were likely created by
beavers, and beaver dams are exactly what we were greeted with upon arrival. Depending
on how large the dam is, BOB can ramp over many beaver dams. The first dam was
about 12” higher than the lower water level. This is a little too high for
ramping, but we were able to pull away some of the dam to allow water to flow
over it in the middle, making the clearance a little less.
Kevin then stationed himself on top of the dam next to the spillover
in case the boat needed a push or got stuck. I was able to get about 30 feet away
for the approach I needed, which gave me enough speed to ramp the dam. After I
picked up Kevin, we explored the calm water above the dam, only to eventually find
a second dam. This dam was easier to ramp and didn’t need Kevin to leave the
boat. I think the beavers were mad at us too because they came out to inspect
the damage… and man were these beavers HUGE!
We were ecstatic to be able to ramp two beaver dams and get
into the lake we set out to explore! As soon as we got into the water above the
second lake, a huge pike splashed through the reeds and into the deeper water;
this got me excited for fishing!
We explored the lake, focusing on our intended points of
interest from map reviews. Unfortunately, nothing in our map planning really panned
out. There was no solid ground surrounding the lake to put a tent, the entire
lake had about 50 feet of cattails buffering the shore (if it existed), and
everything that resembled ground was actually swamp. We did find one place of
elevated ground to get out and explore, but with so much of the lake being
pretty much impossible for a moose to want to traverse, our dreams of hunting
this area quickly faded.
This patch of ground we explored was similar to a peninsula but
only had a walkable surface the size of a cul de sac. Someone hunted here a
long time ago because to see over all the flat ground, a makeshift ladder was
created on the few trees still standing. This made me think how different this
spot likely was 10+ years ago. On the plus side, there was TONS of moose poop,
but the moose had to be using this peninsula as a temporary walkway: I could not
see us shooting a moose here. I tried to make this spot work, thinking I could
walk to some other patches of ground that may be huntable, but everything was
mush and undesirable for a moose (or for us to cut a moose up in). As a result,
we decide to abandon Plan A ☹
There was another smaller lake nearby with a creek to it
that we called Plan A2 so we tried to get to that lake. The creek to the lake was
impossible to travel, and the trees/ brush were extremely thick from the creek
we were currently on. The lake was also accessible off the main river, so we
backtracked a little and checked it out from that direction.
We banked BOB and walked in through the trees to the lake.
The hiking here was amazing! The forest was covered with spread out birch
trees. Below them… nothing but gentle grass! It was a beautiful floor covering
that was ridiculously easy to walk. It was almost surreal, evenly spaced tress,
shin high grass, flat ground, light flickering through the canopy top, and
nothing but trunks every 5 feet or so to walk around. We had no problem getting
anywhere we wanted in this terrain.
We walked about a half mile half circle, finding a few small
lakes and openings that looked promising. We finally settled on a large lake
opening that stretched all the way into the flats of the beaver dam lake we
explored earlier. This lake looked to be about a half mile across and a mile
wide; it was outlined by birch with a buffer of dead birch/ upright trunks for 20
feet inside the live birch, then another buffer of about 100 feet of swampy
grasses, and then the lake full of ducks and geese by the thousands feasting on
the vegetation. This lake looked like a great place for moose, especially since
we saw many game trails, a bunch of moose beds, a ton of moose poop, easy
walking for wide animals, and plenty of flat ground for calls to carry. There
was actually an old tree stand on the far side of the lake by the other accessible
place from the river, but it was dilapidated and as old as the prior one we saw
earlier.
We jumped back in the boat and moved upstream 200 yards to a
better area of birch and shortening our walk to the lake we would hunt. This
would allow us to camp on the river, and hike a few hundred yards to our hunting
ground. Ideally, we would camp in a spot where we could overlook an area that
moose would potentially roam, but this was not be possible here.
The rain had stopped by this time, and it was only sprinkling
now, but the plants were still soaked. It took us a while to unload and hike
everything about 20 yards into the trees. In the midst of moving everything, I
pulled a classic Adam move and misplaced my GPS. I eventually gave up looking
for it, but luckily found it later in a spot I forgot I placed it.
We spent what was left of the evening picking the exact location
we would hunt from, setting up our decoy (Bertha), and calling to anything in
the area. After our first few calls, we were soon greeted with return calls,
but to our surprise, they were from wolves. Directly across the lake, about a
mile or two away, in a corridor that connected our lake to the hills that we
were hoping moose would use to come toward us… a pack of wolves started howling…
and howling… and howling; they didn’t stop for a good two minutes straight. Even
after their 2-minute rampage, they would fire back up for 30 second sessions
every 5 minutes or so. The terrifying serenade would go on for a good 30 minutes
or so. This was extremely disappointing. We somehow picked a hunting spot and
setup camp next to the largest wolf pack around. With that much howling,
barking, and growling, there was no way a moose would get anywhere close to us.
Disappointed, we waited a while until they finally went quite, belted out some
long and hard moose calls, then headed back to camp to sulk and sleep.
As soon as we got back to camp, it started to dump again.
Thankfully, we already set up the rain fly tarp so we had a place to stay dry. We
cooked up some dinner as we arranged camp even more. As the sun set, we crawled
into the tent intent on getting up early the next day and spending the entire
day calling over the lake. The forecast for the following day would also be
very wet… great!
Day 3
It rained all night. Something was weird was going on with Kevin’s
tent because that thing had a ton of condensation on the inside, and the
outside of our sleeping bags (or anything that touched the tent) got soaked.
Luckily I brought my water proof bivy to sleep in, so I had no issues. It was lightly
drizzling when we got out of the tent.
We got some breakfast together, put on our rain gear, and
headed to our hunting spot. It wasn’t long after we arrived when the wolves
started sounding off again. They were going absolutely bonkers, even longer and
louder than the night prior, in the exact same spot. With the wolves and the
crummy weather, there was little chance moose were moving anywhere nearby.
Regardless, we sat, and called, and waited, and got cold/wet from the wind and
rain.
I was discouraged by the hunting conditions so I decided to
walk toward the hunting blind we spotted at the other end of the lake. It took
me about 30 minutes to get there. Unfortunately, close inspection didn’t change
what we already knew through the binoculars… it was old and unusable. I then
headed toward the river where I spooked a grouse. I stumbled across an old camp
where I’m guessing the hunters that made the blind also stayed during their
hunting trip. There were old meat poles, boards, string/rope, and other things
from a long time ago. The camping spot looked fairly descent, but we probably
would have still picked the one we were in.
I returned to Kevin to report what I found. We then decided
to take turns at the hunting spot, not needing both of us to be out there in
the terrible conditions… but the important part was to make sure we continued
to call every so often to ensure if any bulls were around, they would hear and
plan to visit in the near future. If we weren’t around and calling, we risked a
bull passing near by and us not getting his attention. And doing this didn’t necessarily
need both of us at the same time.
We took turns staying
at the tent, taking cat naps, and making/ bringing each other hot chocolate with
peanut butter whiskey. It stopped raining around 2PM, but only for a couple
hours.
Nothing too exciting happened the rest of the day… we
called, we waited, we tried to stay dry, we hoped to see a moose, we took turns
being alert, and we repeated. The most exciting part of my day was seeing a
couple frogs between my walks to and from the tent to refill our hot chocolate
and PB Whiskeys.
We stayed dedicated to the routine until darkness started to
fall. We made our way back to the tent and prepared to do it all again the next
day.
Day 4
We were up before daylight with plans to get to our hunting
spot at dawn. It was just light enough to hike to see a few feet in front of us;
we could see the silhouettes of the trees from the faint light through the sky.
When we got close to our lookout
location, a huge owl spooked (scared us too) and quickly flew away. When we do
this pre-sunrise approach, we are hoping to see a bull close to Bertha, trying
to figure out why she isn’t responsive… but no luck this morning.
There was little activity on the lake and the silence was nice change of pace. Surprisingly it wasn’t
raining, but everything was wet, there were thick clouds in the sky, the air
was cold and moist, and the wind was blowing. About an hour after sunrise, the
wolves started howling again. They were a little further away than the prior
two days, but still blocking off the corridor.
We spent a few hours doing our calling and waiting thing.
Around 10AM, I swear I heard a moose causing a ruckus near the old campsite I
visited the day prior. I couldn’t tell if it was a cow call or a bull rutting/making
a bed, but it was short, and I never got confirmation despite calling many
times. This made me go crazy thinking I may have made it up in my head. Kevin was
dozing off so I couldn’t get confirmation from him either.
I ate my lunch I brought with around noon. Actually, I was
snacking on it most of the morning since it was pretty boring and cold calling
and waiting… so I finished off what was left, consuming the remaining protein
bar (those dang wrappers can be loud!). Kevin was still snoozing, so I belted
out another cow call, shooting it in all directions, but mostly at the trees
behind us.
As soon as my calls were done, a faint OOOMPH came from the
trees about 100 yards toward the old camp. My adrenaline instantly skyrocketed…
that was a bull moose, and he wasn’t coming… he was here! I then saw him move
between trees, not coming directly at us, but paralleling/ circling the lake in
our direction. [It doesn’t matter how far away a bull is, if they hear a call,
they know exactly where it is coming from. As they get closer, bulls will often
avoid going directly to the location and circle the call/ cow, trying to get a
good sniff before committing all the way.]
I immediately woke Kevin up and told him to get ready, a
bull was here. He shot up, grabbed his gun, and got behind the downed tree to
use as a rifle rest and to hide his body. As the bull followed his path
indirectly toward us, we began to see how big he was. His rack wasn’t monstrous
like we were hoping, but his tines were pretty cool looking. I suggested to
Kevin we may want to pass since we have plenty of days left (but I knew this
was a legal bull and Kevin wasn’t going to allow one to leave the area without bullets
in it).
I got out my camera to record the shot (see below). Since the
bull was just deep enough in the woods to be able to see out to the lake, but
not be exposed… there were plenty of trees preventing an easy shot. Kevin knew
the bull was going to follow his current path along the trees, so he picked out
a shooting line fairly free of birch directly in front of us, and he waited
until the bull crossed into his crosshairs 50 yards away. BANG! The bull
flinched and trotted at an angle deeper and away into the woods, stopping to
look back, at which point he received another round of copper. The bull dropped
with flailing legs and died shortly after at 12:30PM.
We gathered our things and made our way over to him. He
dropped in the most perfect spot I have ever cut a bull in (which could have
been nearly anywhere in this birch forest). He was wet from the shoulders down,
which indicated he recently swam across the river. I would like to think he
crossed the river after hearing my cow call, but who knows… he could have
crossed prior and then came to check out the call after.
The bull was 50” exactly and had three brow tines on each
side, making it doubly legal. We took our time cleaning the bull since it wasn’t
raining and we had the rest of the day to tend to the meat. We were surprised
to find that despite two bullets in him, very little meat was ruined or blood
shot! The sun decided to make a short appearance mid field dressing, which was
a nice change, even though it didn’t last too long. We decided to take a break
and bask in the sun for a bit and to our surprise, we heard a moose calling in
the distance. It could have been another hunter, but that was doubtful due to
our location.
We finished cutting up the moose and decided to hang the
meat right where it died instead of closer to camp. This would keep the blood
smell in one area and since it was on the edge of the trees by the lake, wind
would be able to touch it better to keep it cool (we would leave it there and shuttle
it out the day we were going to leave). I got the chainsaw out to cut a meat
pole, and I promptly kicked the chain. It took a bit to get it back on, but we
were in business soon after. I cut a tree to the exact size we needed between
our two desired uprights. The problem we faced now was getting that meat pole
high enough. Usually we have our ATVs to stand on and one person can hold the
pole while the other wraps the heck out of it with rope. We brought tree steps so
we were going to use them at the base of the tree which would get me higher up,
but then it would be a solo hanging debacle trying to tie it sturdily to the
tree. The struggle was short lived when we decided to use the tree steps as a
rest for the meat pole. We couldn’t believe how well and easily this worked! We
still secured the pole with rope, but there was no doubt this was the strongest
meat pole we have ever erected. We hung the meat, covered it with a guy-lined
tarp, and setup a bear fence all around it.
We headed back to camp for an early dinner and celebration
of vodka and electrolytes. We knew we were leaving the field early, so we
pigged out on anything we wanted. It was a tiring day, so the tent and our
sleeping bags were calling our names early; we happily listened and went to bed
early.
I couldn’t really sleep so I wrote in my journal and
reflected on the awesome day. That’s when I realized I accomplished a feat that
rarely happens… I didn’t cut myself at all during the butchering that day; my
first aid kit wasn’t needed on this trip!
The plan for the next day was to hang out, fish, tend to the
meat, prep the skull for a Euro mount, cook meat over the fire, and have fun.
Day 5
Well wouldn’t you know… we woke up to more rain! As I lay in
my sleeping bag not wanting to go outside in the rain, I could hear moose calls
in the distance. Being in the tent, it was hard to tell which direction they were
coming from; Kevin didn’t hear them though.
We eventually rolled out of the tent. Unfortunately, I made a
silly mistake and left my boots outside instead of inside the tent alcove. The
inside of my boots were wet meaning I would have wet feet all day ☹
We were in no hurry this morning and the rain magnified the
slowness. We lazily sat under the rain tarp, eating, goofing around, drinking
hot chocolate and PB whiskey, checked out the field/lake, cleaned the skull,
and tended to the meat. At one point, we heard what sounded like grunts and scrapes
down the river. We thought about calling to the bull, but didn’t want a hormone
fueled monster tearing up our camp if he got upset we weren’t the ungulate he
was after.
Despite the constant rain, we finally got over the hump and
prepared to go fishing and scouting. We put on our waders, gathered our fishing
gear, and pushed off the bank hoping to validate BOB’s name.
I wanted to ramp the two beaver dams again and fish the
lakes where we saw the pike slap the water, but Kevin wasn’t feeling that route
for some reason. We weren’t too far from the place we hunted the first time we
were in Minto, so we went in that direction to check out the terrain there and
to see if any pike were lurking in the deep creek nearby. To our surprise, the
grass and brush were extremely overgrown, and there was no way we would have
been able to hunt that area this year (good thing we weren’t planning on it). There
also was no fish there… so our first spot was kind of a bummer.
We decided to check out another hunting spot that had
potential for future hunts. There were moose tracks everywhere in this spot,
but it was difficult to get to (fairly long hike) and visibility was tough.
There were a good number of trees we could use the steps with though, so we marked
it on our GPSs and put it in our back pocket.
We then made our way to a small lake next to the river a couple
of miles down from our camp. This lake had a very small stream connecting it to
the river, so we had to ramp through cat tails to get into it. It was awesome
blasting from the river, through the cat tails, and splashing down in the calm
lake, where a cow and calf were eating and looked up at us in disgust.
We had no idea if pike were in this lake, but we tried
anyway. After about 15 minutes of nothing, Kevin finally had a strike, and we
put our first fish in the boat! That wasn’t the only fish he would catch out of
the lake. I then proceeded to pull in two small pike as well. I don’t remember
how, but at some point, I also broke my fishing pole ☹It
wasn’t hot action like we were hoping, but we didn’t get skunked!
It was raining on us all day, but when we were fishing on
the lake, the wind started to pick up and the rain turned to a downpour. This
didn’t make fishing very fun, so we headed back to camp to get warm and
hopefully dry. As we got back to camp, another boat approached us; it was a couple
of locals from the village. They then proceeded to tell us we were trespassing and
hunting illegally. We assured the individuals we knew where the private land was,
and we weren’t anywhere close to it. He didn’t like our answers and stormed out
of there. Good thing this was going to be our last full day on the river or we
would have been concerned this guy may sabotage something.
We then sat under the rain tarp for a while trying to warm
up. Kevin went into nap mode, so I decided to try and fish from the riverbank.
I wasn’t expecting to catch anything, but you’ll catch zero fish if you don’t
try! I was leisurely casting the penis lure in the river and reeling it when 5
feet in front of me, before I lifted the lure out of the water, a MASSIVE pike
swiped at my lure, missing it, splashing me, and quickly swimming away. This
really got my heart pumping… there were monsters right in front of camp! A
couple casts later and the exact same thing happened! After many more casts without
a bite, I decided to switch lures, and that’s when Kevin joined me to fish. A
couple more casts and I had my third hit, as well as my third miss; this was
frustrating! Finally on my fourth chance, the pike bit hard enough to hook
himself. It quickly got tied up in the grass, but I was able to land it. It was
a bit bigger than the others we caught earlier on the lake, but definitely not
the monsters that were biting at my earlier lures.
It was getting dark soon, so we called it a day and headed
back to camp. Unfortunately, it was too wet for a fire and our hopes of eating
fresh moose were shattered. It rained ALL DAY and my entire body felt like it
was pruning. That’s alright… nothing a little hot chocolate and PB whiskey
couldn’t fix. Actually, it didn’t dry me out, but it tried.
Day 6
It continued to rain all night and was still raining when we
woke up. We had no motivation to get out of the tent, but little did we know,
we were having an untold competition to see who had to leave the tent to pee first…
I won! Shortly after eating breakfast, I tried fishing again for a little bit
but didn’t get a bite.
We packed everything up and tried to keep it as dry as
possible while staging and loading BOB. We used the jet sled as a dry base for
the meat to sit in the boat, which worked perfectly. As we were shuttling the
meat back and forth, we were greeted by the howling wolves again, still in the
same spot. Hopefully somebody will thin them out this winter.
Bob was pretty heavy with our gear and the moose… I don’t
think we would have been able to fit a second moose in the boat this year. Once
we were on the water, we could tell the weight wasn’t distributed evenly
either, so we had to readjust or else the nose would have been diving the
entire trip out and Kevin would have been soaked.
It took us 2 hours to get out in the nasty rain, wind, and
waves, leaving us cold and soaked, although we dressed as best as possible for drenching.
As we pulled into the boat launch, other hunters were also returning from their
outing; we were the only ones that were successful. Kevin went to get the truck,
and an elder gentleman came over to talk about our hunt. He quickly became accusational,
claiming we were killing moose and leaving the meat, only bringing out the “horns.”
The meat was covered and the antlers were visible, but that was an offensive
accusation. Even after assuring him we value the meat the most, he didn’t
believe the meat was brought out of the field.
We were unloading BOB and getting everything secured when a
lady pulled up next to us to ask if we had any extra meat to donate. We had
plans for all the meat, and she asked if we left any in the field that would be
salvageable. Both questions were odd, but we talked with her further. We found
out the younger generations don’t hunt as much and are not concerned with
providing the village or its elders with meat. This was surprising to us
because if we lived in Minto, that’s exactly what we would love to do!
We put the meat in the back of the truck on top of the bunk
cot and all gear went in BOB or on the trailer. Dry clothes and a warm truck were
a welcome change! We pulled out of Minto happy to be heading home, but making a
couple stops along the way attempting to kill grouse with rocks (unsuccessfully).
The roads between Minto and Fairbanks were horrendous. All
the rain made the dirt roads a huge, muddy mess. We were lucky to not get
stuck, but this added about an hour on to our drive out. The muddy roads also
made a mess out of everything inside BOB and on the trailer (this was the
driving force behind me getting a cover for BOB after this hunt).
We stopped in Fairbanks to grab a greasy dinner and beers,
then headed a little south of Fairbanks to stay the night in the truck one last
time. I slept better than I thought… it must have been the beers.
Day 7
We finished the drive home and got the meat hanging in preparation
to cut up the next day. I then spent the entire day trying to clean the mud off
all the gear. Even with a power washer, it took about 6 hours to get everything
clean. That’s alright though… I’d rather spend hours cleaning up from a hunt where
I turned into a raisin than buying my meat from the store.
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