| Jim Wescott |
01-13-2023 09:55 PM |
Alces alces
5 Attachment(s)
Late September bull hunt near Eagle Lake in northern Maine, perfect time for calling in rutting bulls. Beautiful ground full of black bears, moose and grouse. Son Tim bowhunted the first three days, missing an absolute monster at 35 yards on Day One. Older son Andy ranged the bull and whispered “fifteen yards” because he was picking up a spruce limb rather than the moose. Tim thought Andy said “fifty yards” and crept a little closer before settling the 50 yard pin. The arrow with lighted nock flew perfectly before disappearing over the bulls back, clipping the hair on his hump. The disappointment was incredible. We spent a few minutes piecing together what had just happened with our hunting crew we as Tim, who had gone to look for the arrow, came hustling back to us as the bull could be heard grunting. We circled around the rutting moose in an unsuccessful attempt to cut him off. Spirits were lifted as a shower before sunset left a gorgeous double rainbow. Day One was in the books. Days Two and Three were enjoyable, seeing great sign and a couple cows. On the afternoon of Day Three we were finally able to hike into a series of high bogs loaded with sign. We lost daylight while calling to a grunting bull. On Day Four Tim switched to his brothers Forbes 30-06 as the bogs would be long odds of getting a moose close enough for a bow. Sunrise over the hardwood ridge bordering the highest bog lifted our hopes and soon a bull was responding to the birch bark cow moans. He was on the open hardwood ridge above the bog and didn’t seem eager to come down. Tim decided to make a bold move toward him, calling as we went. (There were six of us in our hunting party) We settled into the edge of a steep section of the ridge about 400 yards above the bog while the bull continued to grunt higher up yet much closer. It was a standoff for 30 minutes then Tim handed me the call. He and the others would stay put while I cow moaned and retreated back down toward the bog. That was all it took. The bull grunted louder and louder and faster and faster. The boys thought he was going to walk right through them. Instead he circled a bit and the calling brought him right past them and Tim made a great shot. They all said it was like sitting in stadium seating to view the hunt. After quartering we all “enjoyed” the multiple mile-long trips dragging him out. While the first day bull was a truly exceptional animal, the high bog bull was a hunt for the ages.
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