November in Northern Alberta means only one thing to my family – Moose Hunting. With the tag lottery won and about 5-8 tags for assorted family members there is a lot of enthusiasm for the hunt. My cousin, Mel, is a big Moose guy – gets one nearly every year - and was very pleased that I was travelling all the way from San Diego to go Moose Hunting with him and his nephew Chris.
I spend a lot of time up in Northern Alberta so have done all kinds of ice fishing trips, duck and goose mornings, and even a few summer evenings cruising a dirt road with a pile of kids in the back taking shots at miscellaneous ditch monsters. But I hadn’t crossed the threshold to “Big Game” status so I was honored and excited about my first Moose adventure. The night before lots of instructions bombarded me – what to wear, how long we’d be out, blah, blah, blah. My big job was to make sure I brought along a hearty contribution to the midday meal since we were meeting up with Wendlyn Girk and a few other hunters to compare results and warm up by a bonfire.
Mel and Chris picked me up at the crack of pitch dark dawn for the 2 hour ride to the cut block where Mel’s tag was valid. As soon as I was bundled up in the back seat of the pickup (under a quilt, with a soft pillow for my head) the razzing began.
“Sit Up!”
“What kind of lazy Hunter are you?”
“Talk to Us!”
Sorry guys – not enough coffee in me yet to be good company.
The sun rises very gently in November in the Peace River Country so my lazy mood seemed to fit the early morning light perfectly. I dozed until there was enough light to read, then I pulled out my People magazine to catch the important news of the minute. Well – the wise cracks really started then.
“What is that?”
“What kind of crap are you reading?”
“Throw that out the window!”
“You will never spot a Moose with your nose in that rag!!!”
Enough already! People went back under the cozy quilt.
Next was the big question “What did you bring for lunch?” Since I’ve been known to hold my own in a family of very good cooks their expectations of culinary delights were high.
“Well guys, I brought a Bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken”
“No $#_*#)%)# way!!!”
“Shut Up – they don’t open until 10 am”
“Nobody ever brings KFC hunting”
“Tell us the Truth!!”
The banter from the front seat was very entertaining and I was laughing a lot between attempts to assure them that I had indeed brought a bucket of KFC.
“Prove it!!”
No problem. I pulled out the iconic KFC bucket and revealed the pile of cold chicken ready for some finger lickin’ good eatin’. Well, as you can imagine, that chicken didn’t stay in the bucket long.
“Give me a wing”
“I want a breast”
“Is there another wing?”
There we were, two intrepid Hunters and their naive sidekick, munching on cold KFC at 8 in the morning. The grunts of satisfaction from the front seat let me know in a way that words never could that I had done my job well.
So, with the razzing done it was time to cruise the cut blocks. We found Mel’s area and started driving a methodical grid pattern to see signs of the big Bull we were sure was waiting for Mel.
Up and down – over and across. On and on we drove. We passed a huge Moose skinned and hanging in someone’s camp. We saw stripped willow where they had just been feeding. We saw a gut pile that was going to make a few coyotes happy. We saw tracks. We saw Moose poop. But no matter where we drove, where we hiked or where we scouted - we never saw a Moose.
Lunchtime could not come soon enough. Of course there was the word by word retelling of the KFC story (which warmed up nicely over the campfire). It was also time for much discussion and confirmation that women are bad luck on hunting trips and nothing is ever spotted when one tags along. I took the razzing in the good natured way it was intended and took a big nap on the way home that afternoon, satisfied that my first day of Moose hunting was everything I had hoped it would be.
The funny thing is, in spite of being “bad luck” on that first Moose hunt, I get invited back every year. I proved to Mel and Chris that women are fun to take hunting, especially when they bring a bucket of KFC !
Roxinne A. McPhail is the Founder of www.huntersblinddate.com and is currently hunting for a husband (which thankfully has a year-round season). She can be reached at roxinne@huntersblinddate.com
