Zendal and his Alaskan moose.

Campsite

X marks how far the moose was from camp.

Zendal's Alaskan Adventure.

Hunter: Zendal Carroll
Cameraman: Joe Rush

When I was first asked if I would be interested in a self-guided Alaskan Moose hunt with Wade Renfro, I didn’t really know if I could do it, I knew I had to try, but still had a lot of unknowns. The hunt was to be a rifle hunt, probably because Wade and Ralph felt a little better about the two of us first timers being alone. It did add some range for the shot since Joe nor I had ever seen a live moose, we would have a better chance of calling and shooting our first moose with a rifle. In June, I began walking with a pack on my back, carrying 50 lbs. for about two miles on the Illinois back roads. By September, just before leaving, I was packing 90 lbs. for five miles. Joe and I trained all summer, carrying sand in the packs every other day, day in, day out. Both of us would soon realize that though the training helped, it was a far cry from the real Alaskan experience.

The other concern that I had was the mental part of being dropped off, somewhere in Unit 18, and relying only on the two of us to actually film the whole experience of two moose kills, trying to stay safe and dry. I thought I was as ready as I would ever be for the unknowns that surround such a hunt. We had GPS’s, a satellite phone to contact Wade if we needed anything and a personal locator beacon if we had an emergency. We were ready for the hunt of our life!

We left the Chicago airport on September 15, arriving in Anchorage, Alaska that evening and catching the next flight to Bethel, where Wade’s assistant, Felicia, picked us up and took us to the Cranberry Bed and Breakfast, where we spent a sleepless night, awaiting the start of our adventure. September 16 was perfect for flying us into the Unit to the precise mountain top Wade had selected for us. He used two planes, a Maule to carry most of our equipment and one of us to a landing strip at Russian Mission, the other plane, a Super Cub, would be used to actually drop us at camp. This meant that the cub made two trips to get both Joe and I, and all our gear on the mountain, somewhere in Unit 18. Once we were both there, we really had to hustle to get the tent and everything set up. Darkness was falling when the camp was set and we ate a fast supper. The greatest part of the day was when we discovered there was a great bull bedded within ¾ of a mile from camp. We flipped a coin to see who would be hunting first, it really didn’t matter we were so fascinated to be on our own in Alaska. I won the toss, and the plans were made for the next days' hunt. We would rise and find the bull, then make plan B to get to him. We drifted off to sleep dreaming of the bedded bull, hoping he would be there in the morning.

The next morning, after a bowl of oatmeal, we began glassing, but the bull was no longer in our valley. We could see several miles and he was nowhere to be seen. The temps rose to about 60 degrees that day and we really didn’t notice the black flies because we were staying high to glass the entire valley. We would meet them soon enough. All day we glassed and filmed but saw absolutely no animals. After supper, we worked on getting a tarp out to catch drinking water, we had 5 gallons that we brought in with us, but we would need a lot more. As soon as everything was caught up, we hurried to a point south of camp, only about 300 yards from the tent, to glass. Sitting there, just at dark, we spotted a great bull entering our valley from the south. It was awesome to see the bull just coming into the valley. Our hopes soared for the next days' hunt. The sleeping bag was a welcome sight; we had brought XPG Ultralight bags from Cabelas, rated for 40 below. They were actually too hot on the first couple of nights.

Day 2, Joe’s first hunt day started the same as the day before, the bull had left our valley. We soon believed that the high temps were causing the bulls to bed down soon after daylight, and do most of their traveling during darkness, a lot like the whitetails we chase annually. We glassed and glassed, but no bulls were spotted. We did see a great looking Black Bear that we figured was about 5 miles away. We pondered and pondered whether we should try for him, as we both had Black Bear tags, and I had bought a wolf tag, just in case we actually saw one, but we never heard or saw a wolf during the whole trip. That evening after supper, we again went to the south point, and as darkness fell, we watched as another awesome bull walked within a ½ mile of where we were sitting. Too late, too dark, again, but he was closer.

Day 3 was to be our day. While Joe was busy with breakfast, I walked only a few hundred feet east and began to glass the valley to the south of us. Within 20 minutes I was watching a great bull probably 3 miles to the south of us. We hurried and ate breakfast, returned to the south point, and glassed him as he slowly came into our valley. We were going to get a crack at this one. We watched the bull over an hour, but he was still too far to get on camera. Right around 10:00 he vanished into an alder thicket and we lost him. We decided if we didn’t see him in the next hour, we would try to get around him. The wind was blowing directly from us, down the valley, to him. After watching for the hour, we made our plan A; drop off the mountain on the west side, follow the base of the next mountain, and get down wind of him and rake to try to get him up. Over an hour later, we were at the base of the next mountain. The black flies were horrendous, clouds of the insects buzzed around us non-stop. We also discovered that for some reason the wind was still blowing directly to the bull’s area. We were going to have to climb the mountain to the west of camp and travel the top about a mile and a half, and then drop down to get down wind of the moose. That was plan B.

Two hours later we were sitting, overlooking the area he was in, and eating a piece of dark chocolate. We continually glassed but neither of us could pick out the bull, but we believed he was still in the thicket. We made our plan to drop off the mountain downwind and get set up to rake. As quietly as possible, we entered the bottom and set up where we knew we would be in a good shooting position. After setting up and letting the area quiet down, I went to raking the call up and down the small spruce tree in front of us. I was amazed at how loud the sounds I was making were. After about 40 minutes of absolutely no sounds of a moose, we quietly moved several hundred yards closer to where we thought the bull was bedded.

We again set up and I began to rake, even before I stopped raking, I could hear the bull terrorizing a bush of his own. I thought my raking was loud—he was absolutely destroying a clump of alders somewhere 100 to 200 yards straight ahead of us. My heart immediately began to pound so loud I almost couldn’t hear him. Both Joe and I had never been a witness to anything like what we were hearing. As we listened, we decided to move up so we could possibly see a little more open area for the camera and the shot. I raked again and the bull immediately started his assault again, this time maybe a little closer. While he was busy making noise, Joe and I moved a few yards closer, but we still couldn’t see what we needed. I raked again, and while the bull raked, we moved to where we thought we would have a better chance for the camera and the rifle. We listened, and soon the bull was working over more brush, this time closer for sure. I raked again, and the bull moved even closer before he started raking again. Still we could not get a glimpse of the moose, but he was telling us exactly where he was with all the noise he was making. It was truly awesome to just listen to him getting more and more worked up.

Even without seeing him we knew exactly where to watch for him to appear, and after a few grunts and a little more raking, we both got our first look at an Alaskan Moose in the flesh. What a magnificent creature he was, we first saw him as he came into view and thrashed an Alder immediately, only about 40 yards from us. I almost lost my mind, I was thinking such basic thoughts as; make sure there was a shell chambered, push safety off, take careful aim, squeeze trigger gently, all these thoughts were racing through my head at the same time! As the bull finished raking the Alders, he came in moving to our right. We lost sight of his body, but could see his rack above the bushes, which were about 8 feet high. As both us and the bull stood still, he began to turn and go back the way he came, probably to circle a little further down wind. When he turned I could see his body, I asked Joe if he was on him and took the shot at 30 yards. At the shot the bull didn’t act hit. He just walked away, we could see his hind quarters, and they started to wobble. I racked another shell into the chamber; he heard the sound and started to walk away. He went out of sight and I lost all my thoughts and composure. I didn’t know what to do or say. We waited for at least a half hour, and then Joe slipped around to see if he could locate the bull. When Joe returned he said he could see the bull only a few yards from where we lost sight of him. He was down not 30 yards from the shot.

When you actually walk up on a bull moose, it is so overwhelming when you see the actual size of the animal. I never imagined moose being so big. It was like I was watching someone else coming up to him, so very big and beautiful. The whole experience was surreal to me. When we both calmed down, Joe and I realized what every moose hunting article I had ever read stated; “How in the world are we going to get him out of here?” After doing some filming and a lot of photos, we began to field dress him. We started by tying one of his rear legs to a nearby tree to open him up to gut him. We donned the HS shoulder length gloves and opened him up. Everything was big, his heart was the size of a soccer ball, and his lungs would easily fill a bushel basket. It was getting late and we were exhausted and over 2 miles from camp, so I cleaned him out and took one of the tenderloins for our supper. We weren’t going to have time for much else if we wanted to get to camp by dark. A few hours later, we were eating fresh moose fried in butter, and planning the job that lay ahead of us. Sleep came easy as we slipped in the bags.

Day 4 was going to be a butcher day. We wanted to get this moose to camp so we could start hunting Joe’s moose. About an hour and a half after leaving camp we were at the carcass. We started skinning and quartering. Sometime that afternoon, we had over ¾ of the work done and six HS meat bags were filled. We loaded up our Alaskan Packs with the two hams, figuring they would be the heaviest, and they were. Over 3 and a half hours later we were back at camp, fixing supper, completely drained. We had the 2 rear quarters at camp, we still figured we had 4 more trips to make, including the head and cape, which by law, has to be the last to leave the kill site.

Day 5 We were fogged this morning, and only made one trip to the carcass today. We left camp after 12:00, 5-1/2 hours later we returned and there was no time to do it again today. We ate supper and rested. We now had four meat bags at camp.

Day 6, woke to snow storm, visibility good, left camera at camp, worked all day, made 2 trips to carcass, 4 meat bags added to pile at camp. We worked in a snow storm this morning, and the rain all afternoon. Both of us were wet from rain and sweat. Sleep came easy.

Day 7 we awoke to fog and our raingear was frozen to our tent. It took a lot of determination to put on our gear. We left camp late. With 8 meat bags at camp, today would be the last trip to get the head and cape. That evening felt like a great sense of accomplishment, we had the whole moose at camp. We had spoken to Wade on the day of my kill, and everything was going as planned, still had 5 days to track down Joe’s bull.

My moose hunt was over and it was time to get back to hunting for Joe’s Moose. I need to thank Vicki and Ralph, for making this whole adventure happen, and the advice they gave proved to be priceless. Thank you Joe for being there, there’s not many guys I would even think of doing such a trip with. When you’re on your own, self-guided, it’s only the two of you out there, No part of Alaska is just one person. Thanks to Wade for bringing our dreams of Alaska to reality. He put us in a remote area so very beautiful, and untouched, I would recommend Renfro’s Alaskan Adventures to anyone wanting an awesome Alaskan experience. Thanks also to Ken and Chip, the pilots, Felicia, Wade’s assistant, and Bobby, the assistant guide. They were all very helpful in every way.

The actual hunt was such a small part of the overall Alaskan experience. The adventure of camping in a tent, unknown miles from anyone, the beauty of the wilderness, and the magnificent animals, are the true Alaskan experience. I LOVE ALASKA!