I’ve seen a lot of hunters get discouraged and misled by social media. They see guides, hunters and friends always posting their successes and rarely their failures — often thinking those successes come with ease. Here’s a look at the work that went into a hunt last week, one that ended with the first moose tag we’ve ever eaten.
First off, the week spent with Matt and Sydney Boyer was unmatched. This father-daughter duo is what makes guiding hunts memorable and worth it. Hands down, they’re the best people you could ever spend a week hunting alongside, and I’m forever grateful for the friendship we built.
I knew this hunt was going to be a challenge when the sign we were seeing locally was in small pockets, mostly around water. I started scouting in mid-August, logging 12 full days and nearly 50 miles on foot before the hunt. With several promising areas and a dozen cameras deployed, I felt confident.
As the hunt approached, my confidence grew when five “shooters” appeared on camera in three different areas. One of those was a deadwater we had hunted many times before and taken a few big bulls from. That deadwater was holding resident cows and likely some of our target bulls from the cuts above. The cuts, however, showed no cow activity leading up to the hunt.
Anyone who knows moose hunting understands that during the breeding phase, you need to hunt close to the cows to maximize your chances at a bull. Knowing the deadwater was holding cows, I figured it would be our ace in the hole — or so I thought.
Monday morning, we paddled upstream and found a cow along the bank. After setting up and calling, a bull quickly responded. It wasn’t a shooter, and certainly not on the first day. Half an hour later, we called in a second small bull who put on a little show. After joking that we were looking for his father, we got back in the canoe to see what else might answer.
Half a mile upstream, Matt heard a grunt and pointed right. I looked up to see antlers poking through a patch of alders. The bull came through the maples on the treeline like a rutting buck, head low and grunting every step. He looked like a bull anyone would be happy with. We got to shore and set up to call.
To my surprise, our calls were ignored. The bull kept moving away, grunting, never to be seen again. Maybe he was trailing a cow we didn’t notice.
We hunted hard into Thursday, only seeing a cow and calf Tuesday morning.
That Thursday, before we reached the canoe, we spotted a cow and small bull standing on the opposite bank. Sydney got her gun on the sticks and her crosshairs on the bull, but we agreed it was still early. He was one of the smaller bulls from Monday morning.
That evening, a trail camera showed a bull and cow at our setup — less than an hour after we left.
Friday came with hopes that the rain the night before might kick the rut into gear and bring in one of the big bulls. We now had help from my brother Charles and his client, Zach, who had shot a bull early Wednesday. But Friday was also quiet.
That evening, Charles and Zach scouted a deadwater for the final day. At this point, any bull would have been a shooter. They saw plenty of game, including a cow moose and two more unidentified moose that bolted as they paddled upstream in the dark.
We started Saturday on the new deadwater Charles and Zach had scouted. Thanks to Thursday night’s rain, the river was navigable again — before that, it had been too low from drought. We made the long trip down and back, portaging over beaver dams and dragging the canoe where the river was too shallow. Our only sighting was a buck bedded along the river.
With just a few hours left, we decided to finish in an area that had several small bulls and some of the only wallows we’d found all week. As our calls echoed into the fading light, the Boyers’ hunt came to a close.
As unfortunate as an unpunched tag may be, the Boyers left in high spirits after a weeklong hunt where we logged more than 50 miles paddling deadwaters and more than 40 miles on foot.
As a guide, this one stings. I worked harder scouting for this hunt than I normally would. I felt confident we could get Sydney the bull she wanted. But at the end of the day, there are two things you absolutely cannot control in moose hunting: the moose and the weather. Zone 28 is tough even in a good year, and this past week the success rate was 25%, compared to 70% during the same week last year.
Leading up to this hunt, nine out of the last 11 moose hunts I guided ended within 24 hours. The two that went longer were both my personal hunts — one in New Brunswick and one in Maine. Four topped 50 inches, and four more measured 47 to 50.
I share these stats because I’ve ridden the highs of moose hunting the past few years. This week was a humbling reminder that success isn’t guaranteed, even with preparation.
