(This blog is also featured as an article in the June issue of TROFÆ magazine)
One spring day a message rang on my whatsapp. I knew immediately that it had to be one of my dear friends 'overseas', and sure enough, I read that Kyle had sent me a message. Kyle was my very first hunting client, and I vividly remember the first time I shook his hand at basecamp. He had travelled all the way from Seattle with his old dad. They went big game hunting together every two years, and they had tried moose five times with other outfitters but had never succeeded. The pressure was on and I was nervous, because suddenly I was not only responsible for myself, but also for a customer who followed me faithfully. It took nine days for a bull moose to fall for a solid leaf shot. Kyle is not just an old acquaintance because during the ten days of hunting we shared life stories, laughter and tears of joy. Yes, we even got to see each other as God created us when the bull moose fell on the other side of the river. I had to cross the icy river in September to break it, so no meat was wasted. A 58" bull moose was lying there peacefully, and he was my very first experience as a hunting guide in the Canadian wilderness. I was hooked and had finally found my niche in life.
Back to the message from Kyle in my inbox. He wrote that he had booked another trophy moose trip and wanted to know if there was a possibility that I could guide him again. "I'm sure it's a long shot that you'll be able to guide it but I'd love nothing more than to kill another big bull with you. Our last trip was one of the greatest hunting experiences of my life and getting to share it with you was so amazing. To this I could only reply that I had already planned another season as a hunting guide in Canada, and it would make my heart happy to accompany him on another WILD adventure.
Kyle and Trine's very first moose, shot in 2021
I WANT IT TO BE EVEN WILDER...
We had already set the standard for the last bull moose we had hunted together and thought that nothing could top this experience. Well, think again, because this one turned out to be of a completely different calibre. The rut was not yet at its peak, and for the first few days of the hunt, we only managed to call in the smaller bull moose. Kyle wasn't just hunting the biggest bucks in the woods, he was hunting for the meat and the experience. I have the utmost respect for most American/Canadian hunters as they often turn up with full enthusiasm and ten large coolers. That way, they can transport all the flavoursome meat home for the rest of the family. The moose that Kyle and I killed two years ago had been enjoyed by him and his family ever since, and now the freezer was running low again. A trip like this costs a lot of money, but for Kyle, it makes sense to be able to feed his family while combining it with an unforgettable adventure. On the third day, I call in a reasonable bull moose and Kyle is already ready with his finger on the trigger. There's not much that beats the experience of a moose in rut getting closer and closer. An animal that can easily weigh up to 800 kilos, slowly grunting and swaying its large antlers from side to side. I could see Kyle breathing faster and faster while still keeping his finger on the trigger. The bull was no more than 35", so I told Kyle not to shoot. We have many days to go and there are bigger and older bull moose out there, knowing that this could be the only chance we would get in those ten days.
ON A HORSE'S BACK
As a guide, you need to be good at reading your client because on a ten-day trip like this, you're going to be exposed to situations that can be both challenging and physically tough. I had read Kyle a long time ago and knew he was a man for a tough adventure. I asked him if he wanted to try moose hunting in the mountains and leave basecamp for real. As a guide and hunter, you commit one hundred per cent to a specific area if the hunt takes place in the backcountry. Here you should expect to spend a full two days packing and unpacking, as the entire journey takes place on horseback. The choice is tough, but the reward is great as you enter an area where few people have set foot before.
Kyle was ready to conquer the wilds of Canada, and not long after I had thrown the last 'pack box' on the horses so we could finally get going. I had decided with my boss on the area called 'Dead Bear' and the first 10 kilometres were terrible. I had been in the area two years ago to cut trails so we could get a whole string of horses through the wilderness, you couldn't see or feel it. It didn't look like itself, and the willow trees that went for the stirrups back then had grown twice as big. So imagine being whipped in the head by stiff branches sitting on a wild horse, while holding the halter of three other wild horses that just want to pull the other way. It was a long ten kilometres... but suddenly the landscape opened up and we rode between two mountain ranges. I quickly forgot that my cheeks were sweating and my hand was throbbing from holding on so tightly to the rope. It's beautiful, and with Kyle faithfully riding behind me, I began to call softly. We rode up one mountain range to scout the opposite mountainside, hoping to spot a promising trophy moose.
We had barely tethered the horses and opened the lunch box before we spotted a bull moose with three cows at his side. The light in my spotter was terrible and I could barely make out his long brow tines. This was also answer enough to quickly make a plan on how to 'stalk' him in the best possible way. The terrain was very open and the only option was to sneak up along the tree line and avoid making too much noise. I put Kyle back on his horse and took the halter so he just had to follow me and my horse Buddy.
SPOT AND STALK
We came back down at the foot of the mountain and tethered the horses to the trees. It had to be pretty quick because we didn't have much time left to hunt before dark. I picked up the pace quickly up the mountain and I could hear Kyle struggling behind me. The willow trees haunted us once again, because not only did we have to climb, but we had to pass through bushes that twisted across our boots every time we took a step. We had to get level with the bull moose, unaware that it was still standing with its three cows several hundred metres away. We could afford to make some noise because we were still some distance away. The wind suddenly changed and I stopped with a start, because I didn't want it to catch our scent now that we had travelled so far. I didn't call out once because he was already standing with three cows and would most likely not react. On the contrary, the cows would probably get curious and could potentially ruin our chances or make things even more difficult. Suddenly, I heard a rumbling sound and thought it was just Kyle's stomach once again. I turned round to see if Kyle was still okay and ready if a situation arose. The rumbling we had just heard wasn't Kyle's stomach... it was a grunt from a bull moose nearby.
WITH THE RIFLE AS A DECOY CALL
I slowly dropped to my knees and could see Kyle following me out of the corner of my eye. I slowly took the rifle off my shoulder and ran it with light strokes along the willow bush. The bull moose responded with deep grunts to my shovel-like sounds. We couldn't see what he was yet, and by my calculations he had travelled a long way if it was the same bull moose we had spotted on the opposite mountain. I had to be absolutely sure that it wasn't just a smaller satellite bull wandering around the same area. I whispered to Kyle to get ready, but not to shoot until I gave the signal.
The bull moose had come closer and stood fifteen metres from us. I still hadn't seen his shadow, only heard his massive shovels scraping against the bushes and the many deep grunts. The only thing separating me, an avid hunter, and the huge rutting moose were some dense fir trees. I responded by rattling my shaft out of the arrows once again. That was the last straw, and the sound made the bull colour up. I only just saw his huge palms and instinctively knew it was him we had seen earlier today. I signalled to Kyle and a microsecond later the shot rang out. The bang made everything go into slow motion and the sound of a lung shot hit my ears. The bull moose had continued down the mountain and we had to follow. Not long after, the second shot fell, and this was the end of who I would call the king of the mountain.
There he was folded up behind a fallen tree trunk. Quite peacefully in the worst possible position to break him properly. Kyle was breathing as if he had been holding it for far too long. I could see the satisfaction in his smile, and at that point we both probably didn't realise what had happened. The odds were stacked against us when we started, but the chase couldn't have shaped up any better. I got the longest hug, and we could now write a mountain hunt in our joint hunting memoir. We took a sip from the flask of ice cold whisky. We had been saving the golden drops for the day Kyle would kill his moose, and never has whisky tasted so heavenly.
THIS IS WHERE THE HARD WORK STARTS
I broke the moose quickly so that we could get down to the horses while still being able to navigate somewhat in the last daylight. By the time we reached the foot of the mountain, it was completely dark. We got the horses and set up camp near the river that divided the two mountain ranges. After a game of 'mountain house' and a muesli bar, we laid our heads on the pillow. I needed to be well rested for tomorrow, because the hard work starts here. It takes about a day to pack a moose out of the backcountry. This bull moose fell in the middle of the mountain, so a lot of trees had to be cut with a chainsaw to get six horses in. It may seem overwhelming, but the challenge is one hundred per cent what drives me and why I return every year to guide hunting clients. We misplaced the big man and brought both meat and trophy home safely to basecamp.
The shovels were as tall as they were wide. He went from travelling on the mountain to filling the freezer. All that remains is to say a heartfelt thank you for the adventure.
