Day #1 of the Maine moose hunt dawned with rain and it held most of the day. Even with good rain gear we got wet.
About the only dry part of my body were my feet, believe it or not, thanks to the foam uppers and rubber bottoms of knee-high Muck boots.
The hunting is interesting. All day we slog down moose trails so used they look like motocross tracks. Smashed areas of grass the size of decent a breakfast table show were dozens of moose have bedded.
Every 200 yards or so, guide Steve Hunt would cup his hands around his mouth, pinch his nose with his thumb and cut-loose a long, moaning wail.
To me it sounded like Chewbacca with a bad case of kidney stones. To a bull moose it’s supposed to sound like an invitation to hot romance with a sexy cow. We got a few bulls to give us “I’m over here” grunts but none came into sight.
Because of the thick cover they’ll have to be very close if we’re to see them. A couple of guides called young bulls to within 7 to 10 yards of their clients today. No shots have been fired by anyone at our lodge.
Maybe tomorrow…when it’s supposed to rain harder and the wind really howl.
Wish they made Muck pants and coats!