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The Lodge
Moose |
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Moose Hunt September 2004
Hello! My name is Jack Frances Nelsen. I live in
Staples, MN with my mom, Valerie; brother, Ben
and my sister Autumn. I am ten years old and go
to fifth grade at Staples Elementary School. My
dad, Dean Nelsen, lives and works in Fairbanks,
Alaska. We used to live in Alaska also until
about four years ago.
Moose hunting is something I had dreamed of
since dad brought home the first big moose from
one of his hunts. I was too young to moose hunt
at the time, but dad did take me Caribou hunting
with a snowmobile. I was too small to shoot but
I did have fun riding along. So you can imagine
my excitement when dad invited me to hunt with
him for moose with three of his other friends. |
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My trip started September 16, 2004 when Rod and
Lee, two of my dad's friends I would be hunting
with, picked me up from school in Staples. We
had to drive to the twin-cities (Minneapolis/St.
Paul, MN) for the airplane ride to Alaska. On
the drive, my job was to finish my homework. We
also stopped at two stores to pick up last
minute stuff for the hunt; chips and Gatorade. I
liked that. After we parked at the airport we
had to get a shuttle-bus to finish the drive to
the airport. Finally we made it. I really had to
go to the bathroom. Then the long wait for the
right airplane began. Fortunately, it only took
30 minutes before we were able to get on the
Northwest flight. When we found our seats and
the Captain said that the flight would take 5
hours and 11 minutes to get to Anchorage, AK.
About halfway through the flight we got pop and
our choice of chicken or lasagna; I picked
lasagna. We finally made it to Alaska.
I was surprised when we got off of the airplane,
there was my dad waiting for us. We went to his
office and checked our bags with his airline;
Frontier Flying Service. Dad works as a pilot
for them. And they were going to fly us out to
Aniak, AK the next morning. Then we went out for
dinner at Chilie's with my dad and his friends;
Lee and Ron who would be hunting with us and
several more of his work friends. It was
awesome, I got a chicken sandwich. After that we
went to a very nice hotel to sleep. Most people
don't go there because it is very expensive.
The next morning we went to my dad's office at
the Anchorage airport about 7:00 a.m. We got our
stuff and boarded the Beech 1900 airplane to fly
to Aniak, AK. Aniak is where we used to live
when I was in Alaska. It was only a one-hour
flight. When we got to Aniak we organized our
gear and took one more flight, which was only 30
minutes long to a smaller runway. Then we got on
a smaller single prop airplane to fly out to the
middle of no-where Alaska. It took two airplane
trips for all of our stuff to make it. Dad went
on the first trip with Ron, as only he knew
where we could land and he needed to show the
pilot. I went on the second trip with Rod and
Lee and the rest of the gear.
It was time to set up camp. We set up camp right
next to a river. After I finished helping
everyone I couldn't resist and had to go
fishing. I caught an Artic Grayling on my very
first cast. Then I caught ten grayling on my
first ten casts, it was fun. I caught a lot of
grayling the first night but no other types of
fish. Then it was time to get ready for bed.
Right before bed we went to survey the moose
territory. We walked down the gravel bar we were
camped on. Dad was calling for moose to see if
he could get a response before we went to bed.
No luck.
The next morning it was time to go hunting. Rod
and Lee went up river, Ron went up a little
creek that ran into our river and Dad and I
walked down river. We left around 9:00 a.m. and
walked about a mile down river. Dad was calling
for moose as we walked, but we didn't hear
anything. There was lots of grizzly bear and
wolf track along the banks of the river. Down
river we climbed up a cliff to sit and moose
call. After about thirty minutes it was time to
walk back to camp and see if anybody else saw a
moose. At the bottom of the cliff Dad called one
last time. This time, he got a response. I
didn't hear the bull as I was skipping rocks
into the river. But Dad called again, I heard
the bull grunt back this time. We ran back up to
the top of the cliff just in time to see the
bull come over the mountain across the river. It
was Huge. The bull looked our direction from the
mountain. I was very excited. The bull then went
down into the trees but kept calling. After 10
minutes it got very quite and we thought we lost
him. But no, he started to grunt again. This
time he was ripping up trees and busting up
stuff like crazy. At this point I was very,
very, very excited. The bull got quite again and
gave one little soft grunt, my dad called back
softly. I don't know what dad said in moose
talk, but here came the bull. The bull walked
right toward us pushing over trees and tearing
up brush on the way. I was bouncing up and down
I was so excited. Dad kept telling me to take it
easy. The bull stopped on the other side of the
river about 80 to 100 yards away looking right
at us. |
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We couldn't find anything to rest the gun on so
I could shoot so Dad held my beaver chewed
walking stick in his right hand, up-right like a
tree. I put the gun on his arm then and put the
moose in the scope. It was really, really big
now. Dad said he didn't want the moose to cross
the river and we would have to shoot if it
started to cross. The moose took a drink of
water, looked up at us and started to cross the
river. Dad said put the cross-hairs between his
ears and when it looked good; SHOOT! I put the
cross hairs on his head right in the middle and
boom. When the smoke cleared he was dead, not to
move again, only a twitch of his legs still
remained. I don't remember this next part but
Dad say's I gave him the gun and ran along the
top of the cliff jumping up and down and
screaming something about a big moose. But the
moose was on the other side of the river so we
could not go see him right away. We had to walk
back to camp to change into our waders and float
back down with the raft.
It took about two hours to finally make it back
to the moose to find out how big it was. Dad and
Rod but the tape to it, it measured 76 ¾ inches.
Nobody believed the tape. So they measured the
bull again. My Dad was just walking circles
around the moose saying "Oh my Gawd".
Then we started to skin it. I helped as much as
I could but it was big. So with Dad and Rod
cleaning the moose I went fishing for artic
grayling, it was quite fun. After the moose was
cleaned we built a platform out of small trees
to help support the moose in the raft. Then the
hard part, we had to push the raft with the
whole moose back up river to our camp. It took
us about an hour to push the moose one mile up
river. We almost didn't make it as the river had
one fast spot. I pulled a rope on one side of
the river tied to the raft. Rod pulled a rope on
the other side of the river tie to the raft and
Dad pushed the raft from behind. I was really
tired.
The next day Dad called a friend on a satellite
phone to come pick my moose up with his Husky
airplane. It took him two trips to get all of
the moose out of camp.
The rest of the hunt we floated down the river.
I went fishing every day. And on the last day of
the hunt my Dad called in a bull moose for Rod
that measured 67 ½ inches. The moose came out of
the brush on the gravel bar twenty feet away.
Rod wasn't going to shoot, then he did. The bull
ran a little ways, but Rod shot again paralyzing
then killing it. It was a perfect spot to set up
camp for the night and wait for the boat to pick
us up the next morning for the ride down river
to the airport.
My moose has been officially scored at 255 ½
inches B & C making it number two (2) all time
in the world. Nobody can believe it. I really
want to go moose hunting again but my Dad say's
it my brother Ben's turn next. |
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