Dangerously Close

[SliverShooter]

Scariest moose encounter for me was around 1992 or 93. Brother Bob and I took our horses into the Lee Metcalf spring bear hunting, dismounted, tied the horse to a couple of trees about ten yards apart, then walked 40-50 yards to the edge of the ridge and glassed for 30 minutes (+/-). When we headed back to the horses a cow moose stood up from behind a bush and proceeded to chase both of us back over the ridge. We spent the next hour trying to get back to our horses. Everytime we got within 50 yards she would charge us. We both had sidearms but didn’t want to harm the mother we figured was protecting her calf. We split up and one of us would try to distract her while the other one went for the horses. She would run back and forth, charging the closet person to the bush that was five yards in front of Mr. Ed & Buddy. Finally she decided she was going to stomp me and kept coming. I managed to place an one foot diameter tree between me and her, then proceeded to play ring around the tree a few times before she realized Brother Bob had made it past the bush and to our horses. He got on Buddy and was able to out run her while Mr. Ed ran off. I skidaddled ( I don’t think that is actually a real word) around the hill chasing Ed. Bob saw her calf while running past the bush to Buddy. It was kind of screwy day, we had two other encounters with different cow moose with a new born calf that day. Bluff charges to about 20-30 yards.

 

[Kevin Dill]

Walt: You skedaddle to avoid a kerfuffle. Just saying.....

 

[VernAK]

Can I tell of a bear encounter?........at least it happened during a moose hunt.

Half a century back, 4 of us were hunting moose from a very large wall tent camp. An early September wet snow left us with miserable conditions as the snow covered brush bent over and hindered hunting.

That night I awoke to the sound of a bear in our cook tent. Grabbing a rifle and light, I hurried out to kill or chase off the bear. The bear had already fled with a 48 quart Igloo cooler full of our bacon and eggs. Anticipating a return visit we pulled groceries up into trees and rigged pans on a wire for an alarm system.

After a long and wet day of butchering a moose, we returned to camp for a sundowner and sleep as we had a day of packing ahead of us. My cot was under the 4' eve of the wall tent and I put the remains of my meal under my cot before dozing off. In the middle of the night something woke me and I looked up to see the vague outline of a bear, outside the tent, standing over me and sniffing. As I reached for my rifle, he must have heard me and went back to all fours and skedaddled . Anticipating his return, I sat on my cot with rifle and it wasn't long until his head came through the door slit. The 338 was a rather rude alarm for my partners!

Oh......it was a large boar black bear with a very festered neck from an old wolf snare. He stunk like hell and the snare had ruined the hide quality.

 

[Kevin Dill]

In the middle of the night something woke me and I looked up to see the vague outline of a bear, outside the tent, standing over me and sniffing. As I reached for my rifle......

Well Vern this isn't exactly the same as wanting to be close to a game animal, but I'm calling it today's winner. You get the cast iron hitch nuts trophy for that one!

Walt's cow 'n horses rodeo post above had me in stitches seeing it play out in my mind. I know it wasn't funny at the time for sure.

 

[Gunnersdad49]

When I was 12, I got stepped on by a bull moose. Totally my own fault, feeding a cow and young bull that easily hopped our 6' fence into our back yard. My loving and caring older brother convinced me to get off of our elevated deck, walk past the two moose in the yard, and feed carrots to the bull still outside the back fence.

The cow ran at me, no problem, got a tree between me and her. Then the young bull came my way. Not a big deal. More trees. Then the old bull hopped the fence. I was surrounded.

My brother yelled "Throw the carrots!!!" So I did. I hucked that handful of veggies as hard as I could. They hit a tree about 2' in front of me and scattered all around me in the snow.

I ducked and covered like a Russian ICBM Nuke was inbound. The bull sauntered over and straddled me, stepping on my thigh with his rear hoof, and sliding off onto the ground. He stood there nibbling on the treats, while I screamed "Somebody shoot him he is going to kill me!".

My mom lured all 3 moose away from me with another carrot and I hobbled to the garage for safety. I can tell you that moose "relationship hardware" is pretty daunting when it is dangling right above your head!

I earned a big black bruise on my leg and a new respect for their power and size that day.

 

[Kevin Dill]

I think "Throw the carrots!!!" could become the unofficial Rokslide code phrase for "I'm desperate and out of ideas".

 

[Sourdough]

I can tell you that moose "relationship hardware" is pretty daunting when it is dangling right above your head!

So......you can understand what it would be like to be under a very large "Trophy" Brown Bear looking at the sheath of his "relationship hardware".

 

[Gunnersdad49]

So......you can understand what it would be like to be under a very large "Trophy" Brown Bear looking at the sheath of his "relationship hardware".

Yep! I've had a few close calls with those guys, the most tense on Kodiak with a pack full of deer meat. I prefer to keep my difference.

 

[chinook907]

I’ll add a few. And also say that I’m with Walt and AKdoc about moose; it’s the cows that have chased me further and with more murderous intent.

The first two I’ll include because it was the same area in consecutive years, and it’s a mix of moose and bears.
A friend and I had flown into a remote lake in late September for moose.

We landed above treeline; very open country but for some spruce along a whitewater creek that passed as close as 3 miles away, small dense clusters of alder here and there, and some dwarf birch (a species of low shrub).

No sightings of moose in the open stuff, and we couldn’t tempt the bulls out of the spruce along the creek.

After a number of days we got some snow, and decided to hike to and drop down into the spruce, and follow any bull tracks we came across in the patchy, broken snow.

I was directly on a fresh bull track, intently following it, my friend maybe 15-20 yards to my left and a skosh behind; the very loud whitewater creek on my right filled my ears and covered all other sound.

After a bit, out of the corner of my eye I caught unusual movement from my friend.

! To my amazement two spring grizzly cubs were circling him, much like 2 big puppies might when you return home. They were so close they may have actually touched his clothing as time and again they closely circled him, rose on hind legs to look and sniff, then dropped down to continue circling.

Together we eventually were able to shoosh them off and put some distance between us and them, all the while wondering when the sow would show. We never saw her, just her tracks in the snow further on; she was small. The roar of the creek likely prevented her from hearing the commotion and saved us from a bigger rodeo.
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The following year a different friend and I flew into the same spot. I badly wanted a good moose and he was after caribou.

We separated early the first morning as my friend went after some caribou that he’d spotted.

I was getting brief glimpses of bulls here and there.

But the biggest by far was about 3 ½ miles away, and on the other side of the roaring, whitewater creek. Too far and especially to bring back across that creek. Of course he was the bull that wasn’t moving much.

Anyway, late in the morning moose sightings dropped off and I thought, well, I’ll just head towards that big bull and scope him and the hiking and the creek out.

As I got closer to the creek I gave up some elevation, and lost sight of the bull in the denser brush along it.
Once on the creek I thought, not gonna do this. Too big a bull too far from camp to early in the hunt. And to strap quarters on my back and cross many times?

Still, I thought about maybe rigging a line across to hang on to, or to use to get the meat across, but didn’t have nearly enough line that would be heavy enough.

And then, I saw the right antler of the monster bull sticking out of the brush on the other side before disappearing again.

I picked what I thought was the best spot to cross and stepped in ! It was late September in the mountains so the water was ice cold, a little higher than waist deep in much of it, and crazy fast. The creek has a hilariously appropriate name but don’t want to share it here.

Somewhere around the middle of the creek I lost my footing and was completely submerged until I got my legs under me about 20 yards downstream.

Disgusted with myself, I made it to and up the far bank, soaked stem to stern, pushed thru the tall willow and there was the bull !

He was standing maybe 20 yards away with his butt to me, thrashing a clump of alders. Nothing between us higher than your ankle. He turned and walked directly towards me, rocking a bit but not much. Must have stopped head-on 10 or 12 yards away.

I hunted with a rifle back then and I must have pulled my .270 up 3 or 4 times but man it made no sense to shoot this bull, especially on day one. Didn’t feel threatened by him much because frankly, I don’t think he felt threatened at all by me.

Eventually he walked off, I wrung my wool clothes out as best I could & emptied my pack boots. And laid in the bright sun for a bit to warm up; it felt absolutely glorious.

Managed to cross back over without incident, hiked back to the glassing spot, and killed a nice bull late that afternoon.

That was a bit long so I’ll stop, but maybe add another later.
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[Where's Bruce?]

When I saw my moose coming down a tree line to the "hole" that would provide him access to the swamp, I ran to that spot. Once there I knelt down, nocked an arrow and fumbled to attach my release. Well I didn't know the bull had picked up his pace cuz I couldn't see him and when I began to draw and looked up, all I saw were his legs. He was 10' from me. That was the moment that compelled me set my compound bows down and pick up a stick bow. Close encounters are awesome!