It was the morning after the 70+ kilometre per hour winds, during the last week of October 2008. I was with Travis, a new found hunting partner from the Alberta Outdoorsmen forum (www.outdoorsmenforum.ca) and we were driving east of town towards one of my hunting locations where I have a few tree stands set up. Travis and I had only hunted together once, the previous day when we watched old, spooky looking poplar trees fall to the ground in the strong winds.

Since Travis had never been to this particular hunting area, I was in charge of the game plan. I decided to send him to a permanent tree stand I built a year ago. I was bringing my portable tree stand along and setting up about 90 metres north of Travis. It was not quite daylight yet, so we walked cautiously in the dark with the help of our flashlights to my tree stand location before we split up. As Travis sauntered further down the trail, I said, “Head south about 90 metres and look to the left when the trail starts climbing. Good luck!” It was wonderful that Travis was willing to find this tree stand in a location he had never seen before, particularly considering it was not even daylight yet.

I had hunted the area for moose earlier in the year during the rut and always hunt it for deer throughout Alberta’s three month archery season. The winds were scheduled to pick up again so I figured we would only get a few hours of hunting in before the swaying trees would hinder the game movement. It was one of those crisp, clear mornings and the plan was working perfectly, thus far. 

We made it in before legal light without spooking any game and I was settling into my tree stand when I heard a loud “crack” from the south. I surmised Travis had broken a branch climbing into the tree stand. Little did I know, part of the tree stand had broken, so Travis decided to hunt from the ground. After the tree stand broke, the weather was next to deviate from the plan but for the better. Contrary to the predictions, the wind was staying very calm. It was a very peaceful, chilly morning with just the squirrels keeping us alert. A morning where you dared not to think about your warm bed.

About an hour and a half after first light I heard an animal coming through the woods from the east. I focused in on the sound and momentarily spotted a nice mature bull moose walking towards me. I had no trouble seeing his magnificent antlers as the sun light was radiating off them. I first saw him at 55 metres and then soon after at 45 metres. Steadily he continued towards me head on before turning south at 26 metres, stopping just on the other side of an old run down cattle fence. The bull stood almost completely broadside and I thought about letting my arrow fly. Unfortunately, he was just quartering to me a little and an evergreen branch was preventing a perfect clean view of his shoulder and vital area.

Gord Nuttall with his 17 metre moose!

Since the bull was following the trail that leads closer to my tree stand, I decided to wait for a better shooting opportunity. I would let him come closer. The bull had no idea I was in the vicinity. Besides I was enjoying being so close to this massive member of the deer family. The steam from his breath was fascinating and hearing him breathe as he stood preparing to jump over the old cattle fence was thrilling. With a quick, quiet hop over the fence, he walked up the trail my tree stand was positioned on. The bull came through one shooting lane at 23 metres but he did not stop; through another one at 21 metres but no stopping in that lane either. As the bull continued to walk along, getting closer all the time, he ambled behind some cover and I drew my bow as he entered my 20 metre shooting lane. He came to a full stop on his own and I came to full draw. Of course he managed to pick a spot just on the edge of the shooting lane where his vitals were hidden behind a small poplar stump. Despite the bull’s attempt to foil my ambush, I was not about to give away the element of surprise. I remained perfectly still and silent, patiently awaiting the bull’s next step out from cover. No more than a minute later, he started to move again into the next shooting lane and this time I decided to stop him. As he entered the lane, I gave a couple quiet cow calls; he stopped immediately and slowly turned his head to investigate the noise. I picked my spot, stayed calm, and hit the release trigger. The arrow went straight and penetrated him in the exact spot I wanted, just behind the shoulder below the midline. The arrow went in about three quarters of the length of the shaft and stuck him good.

He took off on a run down the trail towards Travis and I knew Travis was going to see him run by. I hung up my bow and quickly tried to converse with Travis on the walkie talkie. The transmissions were broken up and the message unclear. Seconds later, I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye on the trail the moose ran down. I asked myself, “Is the bull coming back towards me?” Better to be safe than sorry, I frantically tried to unwind the walkie talkie cords from around my neck in an attempt to put them away, grab my bow and nock another arrow. As it turned out, it was Travis running back down the trail to tell me the moose was down. I could not figure out how he climbed down from the stand so fast, but he told me “Your stand broke” and also that “You got him and he is a beauty.” I asked the confirming question, “Are you sure he is down?” He shouted, “YES!” and with that I yelled to high heaven and broke the morning silence for kilometres, “YAHOO!”

The curious cow that Travis let walk.

Nothing beats the adrenalin rush of watching a mature bull moose come within 17 metres without him even having the slightest clue that you are hunting him and then putting the arrow right where you want. It was an awesome hunting ambush and the feeling of accomplishment as a bow hunter is indescribable.

It turns out the moose ran directly for Travis who saw my arrow stuck in him and blood frothing out of his mouth already at 50 metres. Travis actually took cover when the moose came running by him at 3 metres and then watched him in the bush as he started to lose his balance. He eventually fell to the ground digging his antlers into the earth.

After all the whooping and hollering, I eventually climbed down from my tree stand, but remained on cloud nine as we went to get the truck. 

Well, more good luck was on our side this morning as we were able to park the truck about 8 metres from the downed moose. Every moose hunter will tell you that life does not get any better than that. We used the gutless method of field processing to get the meat off in less than 3 hours and into the butcher.

As a footnote to this exciting successful day hunting, a very curious cow moose came in to investigate the commotion while we were processing the bull. Travis actually made it back to the truck, climbed in the back seat, grabbed his bow, knocked an arrow and drew at 20 metres on the cow with an either sex moose tag in his pocket. I probably will never see another bow hunter looking at me while at full draw saying, “Should I, or shouldn’t I?” As it turns out, he let her walk. Travis figured we already had enough work to do for one morning. ■

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