Fish River Lodge Journal

Journal entries from Fish River Lodge, Eagle Lake, Maine. Adventures in hunting, fishing, trapping and running a sporting camp in northern Maine.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Of Moose and Grouse


Bear season was behind us as we quickly turned our attention to moose. While Bill and Kathy Bernier (Bradley, ME) were wrapping up their two-week vacation, Kathy helped us “turn cabins over” in anticipation of our soon-to-arrive moose hunters. We had a brief visit with my daughter Miranda, and grand-daughter Acadia at the end of bear season. Miranda sighted in my trusty .30-.30 before her one night sit over a bait; she didn’t see a bear but looks forward to putting in more time next year. Acadia and I scouted moose and found several cows as the sun was setting. Emery Deabay (Bucksport, ME) and friends got in some late-season fishing.

Friday before the moose hunt (September 19th) Wayne and I drove over to zone 5 for one last look. A very large bull left foot prints for us to find, confirming “plan A” for the Webber party opening day. Saturday We had a surprise visit from long-time friend Vlad Vladimiroff (former owner of Bulldog Camps) and Jack McDonald (who I hadn’t seen since high school!). As we visited I realized it was probably all those wonderful memories of time spent at Bulldog that planted the seed of owning sporting camps in my head. The Philbrick party (Thorndike, ME) were our first moose hunters to check in on Saturday. Jack and Helen Ruby (Bowdoinham, ME) surprised us with a visit on their way to Allagash on Sunday morning. They presented us with a “conversation piece” – an old leather shotgun shell belt once belonging to Slovakian rum-runner George Soloski of Lisbon, ME. The belt was complete with an assortment of old and colorful cardboard shotgun shells. We hung it proudly in the lodge. Jack and Helen hunted moose with us in 2005 and had a zone 1 permit this year. Ron and Mim Webber (Cundy’s Harbor, ME) arrived with their son Duane, grand-son Tom, and friends Henry and Colby Barnes. Colby successfully hunted a cow moose with us last year. The John Sibley party (Bradley, ME) and Burgess party (Hermon, ME) were all in camp by Sunday afternoon.

Ron and Mim and “the boys” joined me in the lodge Sunday night to review “plan A” for Monday morning. Wayne would be guiding brothers Gene and Earl Burgess under the watchful eye of Earl’s son-in-law Doug Bean. We were still waiting for Mark Power to arrive for his hunt. He was drawn from the alternate list at the last minute and didn’t arrive until Monday night.

With introductions complete, let’s go moose hunting!

Wayne and I were up early, as we are every morning of “moose week”, to cook breakfast and pack lunches for our hunters. The morning was PERFECT! The air was crisp and calm. Predawn stars twinkled and frost glazed the landscape as we headed out of camp. We raced south to Ashland to beat the crowds at the 6 mile gate. On the way in I passed, then met at the gate house, an old friend from my time at Bowdoin…Art Korandanis! He had a zone 5 permit too. We wished each other well and as I exited the gate house I realized we were lucky to be the first in the group to check in. By the time we were back on the dusty road there were at least six other vehicles behind us waiting to get through the gate! We were right on schedule, ahead of rush hour traffic. My heart sank when we turned down the pre-selected branch road to hunt only to find a pick-up truck parked in the middle of the road and a bunch of hunters walking up the road well ahead of the vehicle. Expecting the worse (they were blocking the road), I waited. One very kind gentleman returned to tell us his 12 year old grand-son had a bull permit and they’d just seen two young bulls in the road. They were hoping for a shot. I told them of my plans and asked if, when the scenario played out, I might pass them and get quickly in to place at the end of the branch road and minimize any interruption to their hunt and mine. It was exciting watching in anticipation as their hunt unfolded. It was soon clear the young bulls got away, but there were many more days and moose ahead. The sky was quickly brightening. We parked the truck and Mim loaded her .30-.06. We walked up the road and in to the clear cut where I planned to call. We were located on a slight rise overlooking the cut with the road behind us and rising sun on our right shoulder. Foliage was peak – the glow of the rising sun on the mountains in the distance and frosty leaves around us provided a picturesque backdrop for what would unfold. It was chilly standing on that knoll. I shared my fingerless mittens with Ron as the sun drove the night’s cold down on us. Between making occasional calls and listening for a response we shivered and waited…after 40 minutes of calling with no reply my mind toyed with turning to “plan B” but I hated to leave the area with such a nice bull hanging around. Then a very faint “uuurf”, and another, and…we had a bull coming! Ron and Mim could hear him coming too. As he neared the cut he walked straight toward the sound of my call which brought him to the edge of the cut, directly across from us. The woods he stood in were thick with a tangle of firs, nearly impenetrable to a bull moose. As predicted, he turned down wind of us and moved through the trees. We had not yet seen him but his calls marked his location and movement. I figured he would appear from a peninsula of birches where the woods opened up a bit and he could work from down wind about 180 yards below us. Mim saw him first. I asked “Is he a good one?” She said “yes, he’s a good one.” Then I saw him. He wasn’t the big one I hoped to call but he was a good moose. I asked her if she would like to enjoy watching this one and try for another later. She decided this was the bull she wanted. I called again and he came right toward us, our breath rising. He stopped and looked, trying to discern the shapes on the knoll, to him we were moose. He continued toward us and once stopped to thrash some maple saplings. He kept coming. I told Mim, “If this is the moose you want take a shot when you’re ready.” She whispered, “I’m shaking too much to shoot.” I reassured her that she had time to settle down and to enjoy the moment, take a deep breath, and then take the shot when it presented. With the moose now 70 yards away and closing in on us she fired a single shot with her .30-.06 that dropped the bull in his tracks. We watched his breath rise from the raspberry bushes that hid his body. At about 7:20 a.m. on opening day Mim’s moose hunt was over. She was SO excited! The hunt had been picture perfect. In our minds it plays like a scripted piece of cinematography. Although the hunt unfolded “dream-like”, it was real and we had witnessed and enjoyed the moment, the memory now already etched in our brains. With her rifle ready in case he should get up and run, we approached the moose. Ron placed the coup de grace as we stood over the bull. I made an offering to the moose, thanking him for all his gifts –the nourishment he would provide, the memory of the hunt, and time shared with friends. We expected “the boys” to arrive at any moment, figuring they’d heard Mim’s shot, then Ron’s. We began walking back up to the road to meet them but they didn’t come. Back at my truck we radioed them and learned they’d missed a turn in the early morning darkness but were on their way toward us. We met them and showed them the way to Mim’s bull. With Henry rigging lines and blocks, Duane insisted on gutting his mother’s moose – I obliged. Tom and Colby captured the event in pictures. By 9:30 we had the bull loaded on my truck and were headed to the tagging station in Ashland. Arriving at Gate-Way Market confirmed what those who have hunted moose already know…it is an “event”. There were spectators, news crews, other hunters and guides, trucks pulling in and out from under the scales. There was a certain festive feel as we milled around sharing our stories and admiring some of the largest racks as they came in. Mim’s moose weighed 763 lbs. with a 44” spread and 9 points. Compared to the others, it was a respectable moose and sure to be excellent table fare. We dropped the moose off with Windham Butchers in Ashland for cutting and headed back to the lodge, wondering what kind of morning Wayne and his hunters had. Meanwhile, Duane, Tom, Colby and I took a drive over to the state property across the lake to look for bear. Duane hunted while I took Tom and Colby for a drive on the woods roads looking for game. I did my best to set a good example and promised I wouldn’t get Duane’s big red Dodge pick up stuck. Henry was cooking dinner when we got home. Wayne arrived soon after; we had our own hungry hunters to feed. Wayne gave me a run-down of his day…to start, he was calling in a bull when a truck load of cow hunters drove in to ask if they’d seen anything and spooked the bull they were calling! They moved to another location and called in a small bull but couldn’t get him to step in to view for a good shot. You see Gene was hunting with a traditional Hawken .50 cal. shooting “punkin’ balls”. Wayne had to get the bull inside 50 yards for a clean kill shot. It would be a challenge but Wayne was up for it. The Sibley party called to say they got a bull that morning, similar in size to Mim’s.

Tuesday Wayne and his party were up and out of camp early; another frosty morning, perfect for hunting moose. I got “the boys” out of bed to go call moose. We ended up talking to a bull that answered our call but was trailing a cow. He wouldn’t leave her so we never got a look at him. On our way back to the lodge we passed Ron and Mim headed south. The boys loaded their gear and were on the road soon after. Their departure was bittersweet. They are more like family than friends. I relish the time spent together and am always sad to see them go, but we all shared the excitement of Mim’s hunt and the memories created along the way. No more moose today.

Wednesday brought milder temps with a high of 70 degrees. Fall foliage was peak. I spent the morning cleaning cabins. Wayne’s party hunted a 2 mile branch road in the evening, calling all the way. I scouted and found two different large bulls while they were out, still no moose.

Thursday morning Wayne, Gene, Earl, and Doug were back trying to call one of those large bulls. As morning temps rose and they decided to quit and walk out to the truck, two loggers stopped to tell them they’d just seen a large bull cross the road! They went back in to call but the bull never came. That evening the Philbrick and Power parties were down to the lodge. Things had gotten pretty quiet after Tuesday, few were seeing moose. At this point the thrill and excitement of moose hunting begins to fade. Hunters arrive full of anticipation but as the week wears on the enjoyment of the hunt becomes more like work. They start wondering if they will become a statistic, one of the 25% or so that go home with an empty tag. To be honest, getting up at 3:30, hunting all day, eating dinner at 9:00, and doing it all again and again is exhausting. The guide becomes “coach” and works to keep his sports “in the game”, maintaining their enthusiasm. Another warm day challenged our hunters.

Friday brought another mild day. The Philbrick party got a small bull in the morning. They were happy to have found success and were ready to go home after a week of hard hunting. Wayne’s clients and Mark Power still had unfilled tags. The clock was ticking, time was running out. This was Gene’s fourth moose hunt and he’d yet to fill a tag. He was feeling rather unlucky. But, Wayne and I have learned we NEVER give up and that everything happens for a reason (although the “reason” is not always clear). Dinner was quiet but our hopes were high that tomorrow would be “the day” and Gene’s luck would change.

We woke to rain Saturday morning with mild temps; miserable weather for hunting moose. Wayne and I decided to “double team” ‘em. We resorted to road hunting at day break. Wayne and Gene, Earl, and Dean loaded in one truck; me in another. With our radios we could keep in close communication as we checked each branch road, leap-frogging our way cross country. At times I would stop and call and around 11:00 I got a response. I ran back to the truck, radioed Wayne and he brought Gene down. We stood in the rain calling and listening to a reply but it turned out to be just another bull trailing a cow – he just wouldn’t leave her. We had lunch and it was obvious we were all feeling a little defeated. Wayne had tried everything he could think of all week and time was slipping away. We drove back toward Eagle Lake and had one or two other locations to try before dark and the end of Gene’s hunt…I put my medicine bag around my neck and asked for a moose for Gene. At 78 years of age and after three other unsuccessful moose hunts, he deserved to take one with his trusty Hawken. We drove on… As we crowned a hill on Blackstone, I couldn’t believe what stood in the valley. The dark form might be our sacrificial moose. It was too far away to tell for sure if it was a bull or cow. I watched as Wayne pulled over, got out with his binoculars and confirmed antlers. He motioned for Gene and instructed him to follow directly behind. They walked slowly down the hill, grunting to the bull. The bull turned and began walking up the hill toward them, closing the distance from over 150 yds, to more than 100 yds, then 70, 50, Wayne knelt down and later told us that he asked Gene to take the shot. Gene wanted the moose closer, Wayne grunted again, the moose walked stiff legged, rocking his head from side to side. I was starting to think this would all end in self defense! At 30 yards Gene fired his .50 cal. “punkin’ ball” and the moose fell. It was 3:00 p.m. and shouts of relief and jubilation filled the muggy air. Dean turned toward us with a very wide grin. We all joined together to admire the moose and I quietly gave my thanks to this beautiful bull who had given himself to a very grateful hunter. The 41” rack with 14 points was impressive to those of us who watched Gene and his traditional muzzle loader end his 6-day hunt. Back at the lodge that night we enjoyed Earl’s “Moose Gitin’ Pie” (an apple pie baked especially to celebrate a successful hunt – I asked Earl what they would have done with the pie if they’d not gotten a moose. Earl replied. “We would have eaten it alone in the cabin.”)

More rain Sunday, which means its skinning day – it always seems to rain when we have a deer or moose hanging on the game pole to be skinned. We delivered the skinned moose to Jim Albert in Fort Kent for cutting. Gene, Earl, and Dean will return to pick up the meat after we’ve frozen it for them. We said “so long” to our new friends. They will return in the spring. Their hope had been to get the moose early in the week and spend the rest of their time fishing for salmon and trout. But everything happens for a reason and we think this time it was because Gene and Earl deserve another trip for some fantastic spring fishing!

With two weeks between moose hunts we had some work to do! We spent the rest of the next week cleaning cabins, doing laundry, and making beds. Wayne and Grant shingled the roof on cabin 3. Where did September go?

Kelly and Aaron Landry joined us for a week of grouse and duck hunting. Aaron did quite well “collecting” an assortment of duck species. Dave and Mary Kressner (So. West Harbor) spent a few days with us and shared a bottle of their home made “Quiet Side” merlot. We enjoyed their company and hope they return for another stay. Lou Gagnon (Henniker, NH) and Brian Boucher (Hubbardston, MA) came up to hunt grouse for a few days – come to find out, our Alli descends from Lou's line of GSPs. Russ and Carole Dyer (Bowdoinham, ME) with their setters and Barb and Cary Haupt (Tenants Harbor, ME) with their cockers made their annual trip north to hunt grouse. Linda and Wayne Testa (CT) paid us a visit. They used to stay here years ago – we hope they will return for a summer vacation next season. Vicky Foster (Brimfield, MA) brought friends Sally and Mark Snyder (Salem, CT) and Mike and Sue O’Donnell (Stafford Springs, CT) up for a week of bird hunting. They hunted over griffons and GSPs. We’ve had quite an assortment of bird dogs hunting our northern Maine coverts! Birds have been spotty and we’ve found few woodcock. Some days you find good numbers of birds and other days not so much. But always we enjoy working our dogs on grouse!

Scott Cyr loaned us his trophy mounts to display in the lodge until he gets settled in his new home. We hung them in the dining room, on “Scott Cyr’s Wall-of-Fame”. Stop by and see his beautiful 55” bull moose rack!

One morning we woke to find a bull moose “chasing” a cow across the lake! At times his entire head was underwater! This got us excited for the start of the second week of moose hunting which began October 13. Malcolm Charles (Rome, ME) was up to hunt with his three sons and their friends. Deanna and Steve Brown were also up to hunt moose with their daughters Nicole and Megan. Steve showed up with a bad back and after Monday morning’s hunt he ended up in the emergency room in Fort Kent with a ruptured disc. The family went home late Monday night and never really got to hunt. The good news is their cow permit will be reissued for 2009 and they will return next year. Malcolm’s hunt lasted through Wednesday. They enjoyed a very exciting hunt and were extended invitations by locals who wanted them to hunt moose in their fields! We woke to rain on the 16th, moose skinning day! Wayne helped Malc and Co. skin their moose and bring it to Jim Albert for cutting. They dropped the moose off around 8:30 and had it back here in Malc’s freezer before I got home from work at 1:00!

More cabin cleaning, Wayne hauled up our docks and the boats. We managed to squeeze in some bird hunting and have been lucky to bring home at least two grouse each time we hunt. We’ve enjoyed grouse alfredo, sautéed grouse, and grouse pizza (pizza dough topped with barbecue sauce, sautéed grouse, green peppers and onions, and topped with pizza cheese – YUM!) One day I got my chores done by 11:00 and headed out with Gracie and Alli (our German shorthaired pointers) to “go get dinner” is what I told Wayne. It was a slow day of hunting, sort of. It would have been more productive if my shooting had been better. Anyway, I missed 5 birds in one covert but picked up a bag of “new” potatoes left in a farm field after a recent harvest. It was 2:30 and I should have had dinner by then, but I didn’t – I only had potatoes and I still needed grouse. On to another covert, and another, and finally, just before dark I had two birds! I was determined to come home with dinner and I did!

We’ve gotten out on a couple ATV rides. One ride took us to Second Wallagrass Lake and a stand of cedar trees where Mike Michaud showed us the 7th largest tree in Maine – an ancient cedar with a girth measured by four of us standing finger tip to finger tip to get our arms around it! The cedar is old, its bark peeling and many braches twisted. It is not very tall and is slowly dying. I am glad to have stood in its shadow. The hardwoods have been naked for a month now, only beech leaves shiver in the crisp breezes. We got our first snow on the 22nd and have had many frosts before and since. Sun rises are always colorful this time of year. I enjoy watching the sun peak over Pennington Mountain and the geese fly down from the river each morning. We made a batch of moose jerky from left over meat scraps. There's nothing better to carry while deer hunting!

The month ends as we looked forward to another “opening day” – this time it is November and deer season! Carole Dyer sent me Leon Gorman's book _L.L Bean, an American Icon_; I'm anxious to start reading it when things settle down and I can relax next to the wood stove. Ed Dallas called from Minnesota, Shawn Pelletier called from Washington, and Duane Webber called from “some where” on I95 on his way to Dixmont – all called to wish us luck on the last day of the month, the day before deer season starts.. We’ll need it. The deer herd took a beating last winter and spring. We’ve found little sign and where there were good numbers of deer to hunt last year we are now finding evidence of only a few.

Looking ahead to another hard winter and back at that old cedar I am reminded of a quote from Douglas Wood’s book _Things Trees Know_: “Sometimes all there is to do is endure.”

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