A Walk in the Woods

I usually walk in the woods out back of my house, but when it comes to being in the woods “up North” we usually are riding in the truck. This year, we headed into East Carry to check on the pond and see if any trout were rising. The road was exceptionally soft so we decided to park the truck and walk in. The frost was coming out of the ground and we were afraid we’d get stuck and with no cell phone reception, it’s the last thing we needed to happen…and we have a new truck that John doesn’t like to get dirty.

What an amazing day it turned out to be!

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This rabbit was one of many that let me take an extra close picture.

We decided to “be quiet” and whisper because we were hoping we’d see a bear. As we walked the road, I spent as much time looking at where I was walking as looking around. Out of the corner of my eye, I spied something brown moving near a blown down spruce. My immediate thought was it’s a rabbit, since we had only seen about 20 of them along the roadside the night before. As I watched, the animal quickly made its get away. I watched it bound away. It’s feet were fat and perfect, and it had a black tail…In my mind, I’m looking at this animal and thinking that’s the biggest freaking rabbit I’ve ever seen! I yell to John, “Did you see that? It was a Goliath rabbit. That thing was huge!” And then it hits me. OMG! That was NO rabbit. It was a bobcat! We got a good laugh and we now call this section of the road Bobcat Alley.  Of course, no picture. It happened so suddenly I didn’t get a shot.

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This coyote is much smaller and shorter than the one we saw at East Carry. It’s also more orange in color.

We headed down the road. Good thing we didn’t bring the truck. There was a tree across the road, and the road was partially flooded. As we inched ourselves around the tree while trying not to get our feet wet, I looked up just in time to see a huge, and I mean HUGE–coyote, which we now feel must have some wolf in it, come running down the road. It stood there staring at us. It didn’t fear us. It stood as tall as a German Shepard or maybe even taller with a Husky look. He was a big dog–bigger than any coyote I’ve ever seen and was completely white/yellow. He just stood there. I don’t think it had ever seen a human. I tap John on the arm, “Hey! Coyote! in a whisper yell. I didn’t dare move afraid I’d scare him off. John had is handgun on his hip, and slowly took it out of his holster. Using the tree as cover, he took aim. POW! and the dog turned and ran. John had missed the 80 plus yard shot. We followed the tracks. He was a big one. He went up another trail, and then proceeded to scratch and pee all along the road. We followed his tracks until the trail ended. We then turned around and finished walking into the pond. Never before had we ever seen such a large dog. Again, no picture because I didn’t want to move.

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Coy-wolf track…IMO 😉

I went back to looking for more wildlife. I was able to notice on several occasions the places where birds like to dust. They find mounds of dirt and create bowls in the sand. This process keeps bugs off their feathers.

 

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We also noticed other wildlife and plants: If only they had smell-a-vision…May Flowers are the absolute prettiest smelling flower.

We finally made it into the East Carry. The fish weren’t jumping, but the loons were calling. It was so soothing to see the water. The main picture is East Carry.

 

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If you get a chance to take a walk in the woods, be ready for surprises. You just never know what you’ll run into in the woods.

 

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The Music of Finding Trumpets

One of the great things about living in Maine is that there is always something to do. Foraging for wild mushrooms has become the thing to do when fishing or hunting isn’t on the schedule. I love getting out into the woods and really seeing the woods from a different perspective. The woods in the spring look different from the summer and fall, and part of foraging is spent looking for deer and other critter sign as well as mushroom identification, which will help me determine where to hunt come deer season.

Normally we don’t forage where we hunt, i.e. at home. We’re usually up north fishing or bear hunting, and so we forage where we camp. A couple weekends ago, our plans changed. The weather wasn’t looking great and so we decided to stay home. On a whim, I wanted to take a walk and check for mushrooms in our neck of the woods.

Boy oh boy, we’ve been missing out! Last year we scored our first Chanterelles ever up north. We’ve made several trips to “our secret spot” to pick them this year, but the yield has been far less than last year. Little did we know that we had them in our woods! Not only did we pick Chanterelles, but we scored on the ever elusive, not-so-elusive-if-you-know-where-to-pick, Black Trumpets. In fact, we almost stepped on them! You need to look where you’re going when you hunt for Black Trumpets. Once we spotted them, they seemed to be everywhere! Every time my husband or I would find a bunch, we’d yell “Bingo!” with the sound of excitement, and it never got old hearing the music of finding Trumpets.

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Our first patch of Black Trumpets. Little did we know how many more were hanging out nearby!

Not only did we find Black Trumpets, we hit the mother load!  In just three short pickings, we harvested over 30 pounds of these delights. I read that these mushrooms sell for $35 to $40 per pound…but we’re keeping them. I’ve also shared with family and friends so they could try them, and I hope to still pick more before the season of Trumpets ends.19894982_10211005941158065_3142371527501338295_nIt turns out Trumpets grow in oaks, and that’s precisely what we have. Now don’t get excited…our oaks are off limits to foragers and hunters alike, but there are plenty of oaks and beeches in Maine, and I’ve seen many foragers scoring big this year. I guess all the rain we’ve been getting does have its benefits.

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Chanterelles to be sauteed and froze.

I dried them, I sauteed and froze them, and of course, we ate them. They are as good as the mushroom experts claim.

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Scrambled eggs with Black Trumpet mushrooms and Sharp White Cheddar Cheese. YUM!

I’m hoping I’ll be putting those mushrooms on burgers, in gravy with moose steak, and in soups and rabbit pot pies. I’ve never used dried mushrooms, so this is a new adventure for me.

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It’s not quite time to begin the bear season, so I’ll be fly fishing and foraging more. Stay tuned; I still haven’t found the elusive-to-me, Chicken of the Woods, Shaggy Mane or Hedgehog mushrooms. I hope the music doesn’t stop just yet…I sure do love those Trumpets!

For more information about edible mushrooms you can search for in Maine, I suggest getting a good guide and checking out this website. Remember to never eat a mushroom that you cannot identify.

Day 5: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure

I Get My Moose!

Day five started out perfect. It was cold and frosty; what any hunter would consider the perfect morning to hunt. Even better was the I finally spotted Orion, the Hunter constellation in the sky. With the action we had on Thursday, we had high hopes and the pressure to get a moose before the bird hunters arrived on Saturday.

We headed back to where we saw moose number 5. This time there was no moose grunting on the hill, no cow wailing for companionship, but there was a moose grunting in a distance down towards the other road that we scouted the day before. As soon as it was legal shooting hours, we called. No answers, so we wasted no time and decided to go find the grunting moose.

img_20160930_085944864_hdrWe parked out a further distance and quietly walked in. After about 150 yards of walking, John gave a cow call. Immediately, we had a grunt answer followed by brush breaking and twigs snapping. We slipped off the road and got behind a bush of alders. Another alder bush further out was blocking my view, but also gave great cover for us. I got on John’s right side so I could watch. I could hear the moose, but couldn’t see it. John took a peek. He said, “I can see his antlers. He’s a good one.” So I took up the outer spot again and peeked. There it was, grunting and coming straight down the road! I drew a my gun and waited for him to come into my sights. My first thought was to shoot him in the front of the chest. I’ve shot deer like this and it kills them instantly. Bad part is that it’s a small target even for a moose. I was afraid that if I waited too long, he’d wind us or see us. I lucked out when he stopped and turned his head to the right looking for the cow moose that was calling him. I fired into his neck/shoulder. One shot from my son’s .270 rifle and the bull dropped to the ground! I didn’t shoot again because I thought he die immediately.

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Imprint in the ground where my moose fell after I shot it.

I turned to John, and said with great relief, “He’s down.” John grabbed me and gave me a big hug. In a split second, the bull jumped up and took about four large gallops into the woods. In slow motion I could see my moose running way! Damn!! I should have shot it again. There was no blood trail because the of the angle I shot it. We heard it crash and decided to wait a couple minutes. It was only another couple of minutes before we found my moose. It had been a dead moose running. It hadn’t gone far, but it was far enough. It was wedged between two trees. It would more work to get him out of the woods, but it didn’t matter. I had my moose. My family would have a full freezer of meat. I got to have my “real” hunt, and we were able to do it all on our own. The sense of pride I had at the moment is something I won’t soon forget.

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Then came the real work to get the moose out of the woods and onto the trailer. We used a winch and battery along with come-a-longs and ropes. We even used the come-a-longs to hold the moose’s legs apart for the field dressing. John insisted on field dressing and I didn’t argue. I was there the entire time helping, but he’s the man when it comes to gutting an animal.

Using snatch blocks and rope we got the moose onto the trailer fairly easy. I made out the transportation tag and we put it on the moose. We then covered it with a tarp to keep it clean from the dust on the road. After making it back to camp, we packed up and headed out to tag the moose and then headed home. My moose weighed in at 750 pounds with a 43.5 inch spread.

Yes, moose hunting is hard, but it just proved once again, that with hard work, perseverance, and perhaps a little luck, you can accomplish anything. Hunting has shown me time and again, that nothing is impossible.

Ten Things I Learned When I Went Moose Hunting

  1. We saw more bear scat in one day than we saw all season of bear hunting.
  2. Moose hunting is a lot like turkey hunting. Think about.
  3. I’m glad I’m not a big time bird hunter because we barely saw any birds.
  4. The Milky Way is way more enjoyable to further north you go.
  5. Orion was right there the entire time.
  6. The North Maine Woods is a mecca for mushroom foraging.
  7. There are some really nice people and some not so nice people you’ll meet in your travels. Remember the nice ones.
  8. Buy more hunting clothes; you really never have enough, especially on an extended hunt.
  9. I can back up a trailer now…get ready Erin, we’ll be fishing from the boat next year!
  10. I enjoy seeing flowers, butterflies, tree frogs, and birds even when I’m hunting. Don’t forget to take time to stop and notice all the things around you when you hunt.

Day 4: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure

Day 4: We finally hear a grunt!

Thursday morning began as the other days. We parked the truck and trailer and headed out to a new spot. We had found a road with so much sign that we were convinced we’d hear or see a moose. We parked way out off the side and quietly walked in. We stood at the end of the road where it “y’s”. Do we go left or right? Sign everywhere. But not a sound. As daylight broke, we decided we couldn’t keep wasting our time trying to find moose around sign if they weren’t going to answer. Perhaps the moose are coupled already with a cow? We didn’t know, but we knew we weren’t going to find a moose any time soon there. So off we went.

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Where moose number 5 disappeared.

By now we had been down many roads, and walked many miles with no result. We decided to try to find a new spot by heading down a road that had camps on it. Little did we know there were many side roads off the main road, and the area was teaming with signs of moose. We got out of our truck to take a listen. Sure enough! We heard moose grunts and a very vocal moaning cow moose on the hill above us and another grunt off to our right..ooh bull competition in play. Of course, we climbed the hill and tried to get close to the pair. Who’d think there would be a run-off muddy bog on the middle of a mountain? Yup, and we had to get through it. As we moved in the final yards, their calling stopped. We never saw them, so we hiked back down the hill. We didn’t care. We were revitalized. They were calling.  This was a game changer!

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Moose no. 5’s huge track

My theory of having a real moose hunt was once again challenged when moose number 5  showed up. We jumped back in the truck and headed down to the turnaround in the road we were on. At the big opening stood a giant moose. GIANT. A moose with big wide paddled antlers just stood there staring at us as we approached. John said, “There you go. He’s all yours.” I grabbed my gun and ONE bullet (since the gun I was using top loads and takes too much time) and went to get out of the truck. John decided we need to be closer and stepped on the gas. The bull turned on his hind legs and floored it too. I was yelling to stop the truck. John just drove faster. The faster we tried to catch up with him, the faster the moose ran. Then the moose made a sharp right turn and disappeared into the brush. We jumped out of the truck and dove through the six foot tall raspberry bushes right where we saw him disappear. No moose to be seen anywhere. He was gone. We came out of the raspberries smelling like moose urine. That was the only sign we had of him being there.

At this point, I was so mad at John for not stopping that I couldn’t say anything. We didn’t speak much for the better part of the day. I needed my time to pout and to think about things. In the end, we talked it out and from then on, we had a mutually agreeable plan should something like that happen again. He was to stop the f*&%$)*g truck.

That afternoon we tried a new road. A large clear cut on the right with steep hill on the left made up the landscape of the area. No matter which way we hiked, it would be strenuous. Several times John stopped and got out and tried to call making a cow call with his hands. No answers. No moose.

On the fourth stop, John called again. We heard a bull grunt! The moose was on the hill RIGHT behind us, so we jumped down over the bank into burdock bushes to hide. In fact, the moose was almost on a run trying to get to us. It’s incredible to hear such an instinctual reaction. The moose grunted continuously with urgency as it crashed down the hill. John kept calling. I had my gun ready. All the moose had to do is step out from the edge of the woods. I saw black, but I wanted it to be a good shot. I kept saying, come on, step out….and then like slow motion, came the sound of a vehicle. The only vehicle that we had seen or heard since we started on the road. Not only did the vehicle drive by, but it stopped right  at  our  truck, then after a second or two, drove away. Why? To find us? To look for moose? We don’t know, but the moose panicked and took off in the opposite direction. Another moose lost to hunter interference. Apparently those hunters don’t understand hunting etiquette. If you see another hunter, just move along. Moose No. 6 was gone.

Tomorrow: I get my moose!

 

 

 

Days 2-3: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure:

Day 2: Cloudy with a smidgen of moose and gunshots

After the incident the night before, I decided the last thing I wanted was a drive-by shooting hunt. I wanted a real hunt, in the woods.We hunted all day but didn’t see a single moose. The morning hunt was set up in an area that had a good wallow, but still no moose were answering back.

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Bull moose fight sign-on both sides of the road and in the middle.

During our day scout, we eventually found a road that had evidence of a bull moose fight. For the evening, we set up in the clearing for a still hunt since we found sign and the moose weren’t responding. Maybe by chance the moose would return. The evening sit was pretty non-eventful. A late hatch of mosquitoes wanted us for supper so we ended up leaving early. The warm change in temps really didn’t make hunting easier.

On our way back to camp, two young bull moose ran across the the Island Pond Road in front of the truck. My first reaction was to have John stop the truck.
John asked, “You really want to shoot one of them?”
“Yes”, I said.
I still had 10 minutes to shoot. The moose cut into the woods, but there was a side road about 50 yards away. We drove to the road, and we got out to see if the moose had come out of the woods. No sign of them. We decided to walk down in case they were just out of sight. Half way down the road, a set of headlights in the opposite direction came up over a knoll. In an instant, two doors opened, hunters jumped out and started shooting. “You’re welcome’, I said as we turned around and headed back to our truck. Then a single loud echoing shot rang out..and then came the whizzing of a bullet right between us! Holy shit! We have hunter orange on! We yelled and ran to our truck. I was more mad than scared. I just don’t understand how that can happen. I sure hope they each had a permit since I’m pretty sure they must have hit both moose.

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The kind of roads we drove on most of the week. Thanks to logging, we at least had these!

That made three moose we had seen. Since there is no cell service at camp, we traveled another 30 minutes to the top of a hill with reception to call the kids and let them know how we were doing. Not getting one of those moose didn’t bother me since it wasn’t the way I truly wanted to get a moose. Impulse had gotten the best of me. I would think twice before doing that again.

We ate pumpkin pie and drank milk for supper then we went to bed. I was exhausted and couldn’t wait to sleep. Luckily, with all the activity, sleep came easy.

Day 3: Rain

We woke to pouring rain, and without much hesitation decided to sleep longer and wait until the rain let up. We woke to showers, drank coffee and headed out in rain gear to find a moose. We hiked the entire day. It was almost muggy, and everything was wet. I sweat under my rain gear, but was comfortable. We hiked hills, valleys and bogs ALL DAY. We found tons of sign, but no matter what we did, we could not get anything to answer to the calls. We tried all our spots and decided to cross off the ones that weren’t as good as others. No since wasting our time if the site wasn’t showing new activity.

We even went back to the road where the two moose were and could find no sign of a gut pile, so who knows what the shooters did. Did they take them? Did they leave them? Could they really have been that bad of a shot that none of the six-eight shots fired even hit one moose?

We ended up still sitting where I had seen the the big moose on Sunday. There was still fresh sign, but there was absolutely no grunting taking place. We had seen at least a dozen wallows and plenty of antler destroyed trees. Where were the moose?! We didn’t know if they were all paired up already and we had missed the rut, or if the rut just hadn’t begun.

Day 3 ended with a big moose crossing the road in front of us as we headed back to camp. It was already well after legal shooting hours so all we could do was watch it go off into the woods. That made 4 moose we had seen on the Island Pond Road. I began to be worried my hunt would only be successful by a chance sighting at best. Perhaps I’d have to settle for a drive-by hunt.

A good dose of Tylenol and Aleve, and bedtime couldn’t come soon enough. We had snacked all day on cheese and crackers and candy bars, so we drank water for supper, skipped the fire and went to bed.

 

Day 1: My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure Begins

Monday, Day 1: Hunter Interference

We woke Monday at 3:30 am. I was stoked and ready to go after the giant. After making camp coffee, and getting dressed, we headed out. I drove Zack’s truck with the trailer following behind John in his truck. We dropped off Zack’s truck nearer to where we were hunting so that when I got a moose, we wouldn’t have so far to travel to get the trailer. Not long after we got on the road, a young bull moose jumped out in front of John and ran for a considerable distance before finally going into the woods and letting us pass. This was a sign!

An hour later, we parked the truck and headed into the woods before daylight. At shooting time, John began his grunt calls and raking. We could hear a bull raking close by!

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One of the many logging trucks we encountered on Day 1 and Day 2.

Then a logging truck pulled up to the intersection where we parked, and sat there idling which seemed like forever. We couldn’t hear anything. After about ten minutes, the truck finally pulled away.

Silence again. John called and raked again. The moose continued to rake, and was coming our way!

Then came the sound of a loud muffler, followed by a slamming of a truck door and the voices of three people using an electronic cow call. They walked up and down the road just 50 yards from where we sat in the woods trying to “call in a moose”, which ended up scaring our moose away. News flash. You have to actually go into the woods to hunt, or at least at the very least, not argue when you’re trying to call a moose. I tried to be positive and wanted to think they weren’t deliberately trying to ruin our hunt, but it did cross my mind since our truck was parked at the intersection. 

We left and found a remote spot and enjoyed a full breakfast of bacon, scrammbled eggs, hash browns and apple cider in the woods. We spent the remainder of the day hiking and scouting, and then setting up for Tuesday’s morning hunt.

When we got back to camp, I decided I had enough of John having to take over so with some guidance from John, I backed the trailer into its spot. We had a nice dinner by campfire, and I got to gaze at the Milky Way for a bit before the clouds rolled in and we headed to bed. There were so many stars that it was almost impossible to make out constellations that I always find in the sky. Finally I found Cassiopeia in the sky and I was content.

Tomorrow: Days 2-3

My Maine Moose Hunting Adventure: The Pre-Hunt

moose-permitI was more than a bit shocked when I found out I was drawn for a 2016 moose permit. Even more shocking was that I was drawn for zone 5, one of the most successful moose zones, which also happened to be the same zone in which my son Zack shot his moose in 2012.

Let me be clear and honest. Moose hunting is not glamorous nor romantic. It’s hard work, especially when there’s only two of you. It’s physically and mentally draining. For a hunter and the sub-permittee to scout, hunt, harvest and transport their own moose, it’s work. This is my story about how we hunted. John and I didn’t hire a Maine Guide to do the work for us. Not that we have anything against hiring guides. In fact, we want to be Maine Guides, so we wanted the whole experience of doing it ourselves. If you don’t or can’t do all that I’m writing about, then by all means hire a Maine Guide.

Weeks before we left, we prepped for the hunt. Prepping for a hunt takes time and money. We didn’t want to forget anything, and with the idea that there would only be the two of us to get a moose out of the woods, we had to be able to do it smart. Winches, come-a-longs, pulleys, snatch blocks, tow straps and more ropes filled our truck. Then we had propane, gas, food, water, firewood and clothes.Physically, I was as prepared as I was going to be. Lugging bait and hiking in to our bear sites all season helped get me physically prepared for long walking on my bad knees.

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Six Mile Checkpoint. Photo courtesy of NMW website

We headed up to the North Maine Woods on late Friday afternoon. We went up early so we could scout a couple of days prior to the hunt. Given our bear season schedule, and that it’s a four-hour drive to zone 5, we didn’t get a chance to do any scouting before then.

We arrived at the Mile 6 Checkpoint outside of Ashland at 8:59 pm. We registered by phone and left a check for $204.00 for John and I to camp and hunt for 7 days. We drove down the Jack Mountain Road and found the first nice campsite. The gravel roads were still wet from the day’s rain, and pulling the camper across those roads covered the underside and front of the camper in a cement-like coating. We got set up, had a campfire under the most amazing star-filled skies and went to bed.

On Saturday, we scouted, trying to search out where Zack had shot his moose. I had forgotten the GPS in my car so we had to rely on our faded memories, the Gazetteer, and lots of searching. We finally found the area on day two of the trip. Late Sunday afternoon, we spotted where there had been a moose fight in the road only the night before. We pulled over. We found a brand new wallow that moose make to urinate in and then roll in. Yeah, it sounds gross and stinks worse. But when you’re moose hunting, it’s a find, and apparently it’s an irresistible calling card for a cow moose.

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The moose’s antlers looked like these. Photo from Pinterest

We made our way through the armpit-high raspberries and went into the woods about 50 yards. John gave a rake of the shoulder bone on the trees to simulate a moose scraping its antlers, and gave a moose grunt. No return grunt. Nothing. We waited a couple minutes. Then John tapped me on the shoulder and silently pointed. There in front of us about 50-60 yards away stood the biggest moose I’d ever seen! Well, actually all I could see were its three-foot high and foot-wide paddles of its antlers. Not even the points showed because of the foliage…but he was huge and after I put my eyes back in my head, we turned and scurried away so not to bump him out. I hardly slept Sunday night thinking about that moose. In my mind, we’d be on our way home by Monday afternoon. I’d have a moose, and I’d get a big refund from North Maine Woods. I think how boastful that sounded at the time, but in reality, I was just sure we’d get a moose, this moose, early Monday.