A novel approach to moose-calling
The number of moose in the North Woods of New England is definitely down from what is was several years ago, but they are still quite common up here. The annual Moose Festival is still held in Colebrook and Pittsburg, New Hampshire and Canaan, Vermont. Part of the Festival is the moose-calling contest, and I often broach to my wife, Linda, that those amateurs would have little chance against my almost-too-successful method of luring bull moose in the rut in my direction.
It happened a few decades ago at the camp I built on the shores of Azizcohos Lake in Western Maine. It was in the Fall, but there was no snow on the ground and the weather was pleasant. I was sitting outside the camp on the deck while Linda was inside doing God-knows-what.
I was victim to an episode of loud flatulence, which was greeted from inside the camp by an also-loud chiding of "Tom, cut it out." Well, if you can't fart in the wilderness, where can you? My camp was nine-miles from the nearest paved road. And the question can always be raised, If you fart in the woods and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound. My answer is that it certainly does not, except to the initiator of the audible offense. But I digress.
There were two other occupants of my space, one of which chided me a second time for another audible outburst. The third outburst also picked up a reprimand from Linda, but the noise did not emanate from me. It was a very-loud grunt coming from behind me. I turned, and there it was.
The fact that the large bull moose, complete with a full set of antlers, was standing on a rise only 25-or-so-feet away made it seem even bigger. The bull was staring right at me, and the added fact that he was in rut during the present mating season made my entry into the camp even faster.
The bull moose, obviously realizing that the source of the noise was not a lovelorn cow moose, casually walked into the woods and disappeared. It ended as quickly as it began. For the curious wanting more enlightenment on moose calling, please take a look at the brief video below. I can beat that any day.
Follow Tom at @TomLaneHC, NNELTFC.blogspot.com, northwoodssauterer.blogspot.com and Facebook
It happened a few decades ago at the camp I built on the shores of Azizcohos Lake in Western Maine. It was in the Fall, but there was no snow on the ground and the weather was pleasant. I was sitting outside the camp on the deck while Linda was inside doing God-knows-what.
I was victim to an episode of loud flatulence, which was greeted from inside the camp by an also-loud chiding of "Tom, cut it out." Well, if you can't fart in the wilderness, where can you? My camp was nine-miles from the nearest paved road. And the question can always be raised, If you fart in the woods and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound. My answer is that it certainly does not, except to the initiator of the audible offense. But I digress.
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| Our camp on Aziscohos lake, Western Maine |
There were two other occupants of my space, one of which chided me a second time for another audible outburst. The third outburst also picked up a reprimand from Linda, but the noise did not emanate from me. It was a very-loud grunt coming from behind me. I turned, and there it was.
The fact that the large bull moose, complete with a full set of antlers, was standing on a rise only 25-or-so-feet away made it seem even bigger. The bull was staring right at me, and the added fact that he was in rut during the present mating season made my entry into the camp even faster.
The bull moose, obviously realizing that the source of the noise was not a lovelorn cow moose, casually walked into the woods and disappeared. It ended as quickly as it began. For the curious wanting more enlightenment on moose calling, please take a look at the brief video below. I can beat that any day.
Follow Tom at @TomLaneHC, NNELTFC.blogspot.com, northwoodssauterer.blogspot.com and Facebook
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