Dangerously Close

[Kevin Dill]

This thread is motivated by my love of close encounters with big game, and especially moose.

I wasn't always a bowhunter and I didn't start out thinking about close encounters. I found out pretty quickly that being successful with a stickbow required getting close to game...you either figure it out or you're gonna wish you did. I kept at it hard and had lots of success. Along the way I got comfortable having critters close....very close in some cases. I'm not going to chronicle things, but I've killed a lot of game at ranges of 10 yards and less....fairly typical for a bowhunter. For me, getting close became the game....just as important to me as the weapon I used. I found myself craving close-in experiences with animals for the adrenaline rush it gave me, as well as the opportunity to kill or pass on the shot.

For my money, nothing can ever take the place of having a big and unpredictable animal really close. Hearing them breathe, eyes moving, nostrils at work, tiny ear twists...that's when I'm in my element. I love being able to smell a bull as he passes me upwind. I suppose you have to experience it a few times to understand. An animal at hundreds of yards is certainly a worthy quarry. At 5-10 yards that same animal becomes more like an opponent in some cases. Having that animal fully, vitally alive and on its feet so near to you will give you a realistic perspective that doesn't happen any other way. Every close-up encounter is a success in its own way....shot taken or not.

Moose are special. They're obviously huge, and up close (say 5 yards) they're breathtakingly gigantic. They are quicker than you think, and can feel menacing when riled up. Their full muscular power hits you in a way it can't when they're at a quarter mile. They can elude you or they can challenge you. When the distance is measured in feet, your vulnerability becomes apparent....if you take time to consider it. Keeping your composure can be a major challenge. To kill, so many things need to go right, and just one wrong thing can blow up the whole affair. Unpredictable things happen and leave you devastated or maybe even elated. I've experienced all of it in one way or another. I've had to talk moose away from me when they got too close. I once had a psycho-angry cow confront me at ultra short range. Killed a bull with a 4 foot shot and could've touched him with my hands a few seconds earlier. Stalked in close on a bedded bull; when he stood up I had a T-rex vision...he was so enormous. We called a bull in (after dark) and shined a light in his eyes at 10 yards....nothing but a tent between us. I think he was at least 66".

I suppose 'dangerously close' is a matter of how you perceive things. I consider all moose dangerous at tight distances simply due to their willingness to fight or defend when they are threatened. But I still love having them in so close. I love earning the sure shot. When it works out, I am awestruck to walk up on a fallen bull which was so overpoweringly big and close just a few moments earlier. The effectiveness of a simple broadhead well-placed is sometimes amazing. I hope this never goes away, my need to be close to the animal I intend to kill.

Can anyone relate? Have a story?

 

[JPD350]

I totally agree about hunting for a close encounter, what a thrill it is and once it's experienced close encounters become the bar or goal.
While I've only been moose hunting 3 times, I did have a handful of some really amazing close encounters that really made my hair stand up just being in the shadow of such a massive animal. I have to say that IMO any ungulate can be a formidable foe, they can all stomp the heck out of you, especially elk. I have had so many super close encounters I can't even count them, many of them have also been kills however I do not hunt with a trad/recurve I hunt with a compound. I am one that feels it doesn't matter which bow you use, it's how you hunt with it and what you want out of your hunt. Just like Keven said the eyes, nose, ears and muscles all make subtle movements that you must pick up on so that the experience doesn't end in disaster.

 

[Sourdough]

I've often said, "If bull moose had claws and they were "omnivores", I would leave Alaska. There would also be fewer bears, and a lot more moose.

I've also often said, that when walking up to a killed bull moose, it is like walking up to a brown chevy suburban, laying on its side.

I've been flat out aggressively charged four times by moose, but strangely every time was a cow with no calf, never even fake charged by a bull moose.

 

[Salmonchaser]

Three, all from around 1960, Ft. Wainwright. I was 6 or 7 getting into all kind of mischief. Was farting around with Capt. Pye’s kid, Bob as I recall. Down by the Chena river. Forbidden ground. Chanced upon a bull moose just below a cut bank. We decided it was a good idea to throw rocks at him. He chased us up a spruce tree. Bob was screaming so loud they could hear him up on the base. I was very brave. Bunch of GI’s came down to chase the moose off, couple of them got roughed up a little. Sgt hauled my butt up to my mother. Begging the Captains wife’s pardon he said, then he told on me. Bastard seemed very pleased when my mother told him to whip my butt.
It was right at the end of the Cuban missle crisis. In fact the dependants had just been allowed back on base. We had bugged out. Dad had duty at the the airfield. Moose showed up on the runway. Dad tells a Lt. who tells a sgt who tells a couple of knuckle heads to go chase the moose off. The knuckle heads take a light truck with a 50 mounted in the back, (we had lots of neat stuff being the closest base to Russia)They rolled the truck, the moose wandered off, no body got killed but my dad had those guys cutting grass with scissors for a long time.
Every year we would get a new butter bar Lt. and his wife from down south. Mom, at 26, was the old lady in the neighborhood. She would help the young ladies get settled in. Come September she would warn the girls not to salt the walkways and steps, we always got snow by mid Septembe, because the moose will find it and try to come into the house. Of course they would salt and the moose would come up and scare the hell out of everybody. Dad had to leave the base for a few days. Told mom if “that moose” comes back have Donny shoot him in the ass with 22 bird shot. Every night I got on my knees and prayed the moose came back. Finally he did. I grabbed my Stevens youth rolling block and since mom didn’t know any better a 22 hollow point, climbed up on the kitchen counter, opened the window and described how safe I was being. A 22 HP from about 10 feet behind the ear will kill a bull moose. I’m just saying. Same damn sgt. paddled my ass for that too. Dad threw my 22 in the Chena river when he got home.
yep moose are dangerous.

 

[Chumsnagger]

I’m just trying to figure out how to get to my truck this morning with a small bull laying in the yard. No pix, a little on the dark side.

 

[okcaveman]

I hope to one day experience what you describe. But I wholeheartedly agree that the closer you are to your quarry, the better the experience. I get nothing out of taking a shot at hundreds of yards, aside from filling a freezer. Up close, everything is exciting

 

[Sourdough]

I wholeheartedly agree that the closer you are to your quarry, the better the experience.

Unless it is a massive "male" Alaska Costal Brown Bear, and he is on top of you just waiting for you to move, so he can show who is dominant male.

 

[Kevin Dill]

I was on a knee when a bull changed directions and walked behind me at 6 yards. I somehow managed to pivot enough for the shot, which was angling upward into the bull's chest. The exit wound was actually higher than the entrance, and the bull flung mud on me as he ran off to die.

 

[VernAK]

While looking around our ridge for a moose, I ran across a rut pit where a bull had pawed and pissed. I scuffed my boots in the dirt for scent and headed back to where fellow Geezer, George, was calling. Little did I know that George had a 50" bull called in very close. When I noticed the antlers coming over the rise, I laid down in the low blue berry bushes to hide. All was well until that bull smelled my tracks and started toward me. Lying on my back trying to quietly bolt a round into the chamber, I'm thinking that's not a bull we want but I may have to shoot him.

That's when George decided the bull was so close to the airstrip that he needed to be shot even if he wasn't 60".
The bull fell about twenty feet from me.

When ya get old, any bull that's an easy pack is a trophy!

 

[AKDoc]

...when ya get old, any bull that's an easy pack is a trophy!

I hear you on that Vern, and I much prefer calling them to the meat-pole in camp!

Most of my "dangerously close" moments with moose have been when chasing them out of my wife's flower garden with BB-gun in hand. That happens multiple times every summer, and I've been charged a bunch of times doing that gig!

Edit: My apologies KD for the topic departure. I do share the excitement of calling bulls close to me, even though I'm a rifle shooter. My absolute closest encounter when hunting was some years ago. I glassed a legal bull as he bedded-down on the side of a ridge. It was lightly raining, and the wind was perfect so I marked his location in my mind and did a very quiet, careful and slow stalk towards him...slowing each step and pausing as I got nearer and nearer. It took about an hour to get to where I had spotted him, but I didn't see him whatsoever. I was starting to think that he may have snuck out a hidden backdoor, but I wanted to give it more time. I decided to take just a few more slow steps to stand next to a black spruce clump to my left and wait for a bit. When I got to that clump of spruce, the bull immediately stood-up directly on the other side...I could have touched him with my rifle with an extended arm through the spruce clump! He was on full alert when he stood and first looked down hill for a few seconds (felt like an hour). He quickly figured out that I was right next to him, and he bolted down hill. He had been laying in a tundra low spot just the size of his body, sound asleep with his head down as I approached, and he startled awake when I was within arms reach.

 

[5MilesBack]

I guess it depends on what kind of cover you're hunting in, but I always take the shot (at any game) as soon as I'm in my range, I have a clear shot, and before the animal bolts or goes behind some cover. I guess in some areas that could very well be just a few feet. I shot my CO moose from 53 yards because he started turning into the taller stuff and he would have been covered up in there and I would have had no shot. I also shoot better when they're further away than up real close.......but I'm shooting a compound.

 

[BCsteve]

Don't think it counts as dangerously close but it was close enough (20 yards)! Call this guy in during our moose hunt this year. Not a legal bull in that zone but was an exciting experience.

 

[wildwilderness]

Yes, having a cow elk almost run over me was fun, having to duck when a rutting Bull elk runs by to not get hit by the antlers was close.

A black bear pressed it’s nose into my ground blind while my young son was leaning against the same side sure woke him up.

But I think 20 yards is TOO close for comfort when I shot a booner brown bear with a bow from the ground

 

[hodgeman]

I love getting in close to moose. I've never had a problem with a bull, but a couple of very tense encounters with cows.

I had one cow try to stomp me into a puddle of goo while skiing the pipeline a few years ago. My departed yellow lab was the only reason I got away. He'd raise hell and keep it at bay while I tried to ski away, as soon as he broke off and caught up to me...she'd charge and start the whole thing all over again. No way to shed the skis, and couldn't even begin to climb a tree!

We did that for a quarter of a mile before she figured we were far enough away.

 

[Kevin Dill]

"Point those things in a different direction"! A bull walking directly toward you while posturing (I call it 'tilting') is a great sight, but also carries a warning. He's convinced there's a moose in front of him...cow or bull...and he's feeling his Cocoa Puffs. I know how it feels to have that bull walk all the way in and not stop until insanely close. Vulnerable doesn't begin to describe it.

My perfect shot scenario is a broadside at 10 yards. I can hit 'em regularly at that distance. It's like shooting at a trash can lid in your garage. That's what I'm after.

I once stalked and shot a large Yukon blackie in his bed. Never imagined doing it, but ended up being a 5 yard shot. That's after a 2+ hour stalk and I was exhausted from the tension. Everything was wilderness-quiet until the bow thumped. That bear exploded from his bed...roaring... and ran past me at close range while doing an acrobatic somersault and snapping at the arrow planted in his ribs. I couldn't believe how crazy it felt and just how close I'd gotten. The guy watching me through a spotter thought I was going to pull a knife and jump on the bear.

And then there was this lone caribou bull sleeping on a hill.....

 

[Page Master]

Three, all from around 1960, Ft. Wainwright. I was 6 or 7 getting into all kind of mischief. Was farting around with Capt. Pye’s kid, Bob as I recall. Down by the Chena river. Forbidden ground. Chanced upon a bull moose just below a cut bank. We decided it was a good idea to throw rocks at him. He chased us up a spruce tree. Bob was screaming so loud they could hear him up on the base. I was very brave. Bunch of GI’s came down to chase the moose off, couple of them got roughed up a little. Sgt hauled my butt up to my mother. Begging the Captains wife’s pardon he said, then he told on me. Bastard seemed very pleased when my mother told him to whip my butt.
It was right at the end of the Cuban missle crisis. In fact the dependants had just been allowed back on base. We had bugged out. Dad had duty at the the airfield. Moose showed up on the runway. Dad tells a Lt. who tells a sgt who tells a couple of knuckle heads to go chase the moose off. The knuckle heads take a light truck with a 50 mounted in the back, (we had lots of neat stuff being the closest base to Russia)They rolled the truck, the moose wandered off, no body got killed but my dad had those guys cutting grass with scissors for a long time.
Every year we would get a new butter bar Lt. and his wife from down south. Mom, at 26, was the old lady in the neighborhood. She would help the young ladies get settled in. Come September she would warn the girls not to salt the walkways and steps, we always got snow by mid Septembe, because the moose will find it and try to come into the house. Of course they would salt and the moose would come up and scare the hell out of everybody. Dad had to leave the base for a few days. Told mom if “that moose” comes back have Donny shoot him in the ass with 22 bird shot. Every night I got on my knees and prayed the moose came back. Finally he did. I grabbed my Stevens youth rolling block and since mom didn’t know any better a 22 hollow point, climbed up on the kitchen counter, opened the window and described how safe I was being. A 22 HP from about 10 feet behind the ear will kill a bull moose. I’m just saying. Same damn sgt. paddled my ass for that too. Dad threw my 22 in the Chena river when he got home.
yep moose are dangerous.

Holy shit I am dying.

 

[Jimbob]

Oh man, I couldn't agree more. Moose are captivating I love so many different animals but moose have a special place. I grew up moose hunting and it will never get old calling with a bull and bringing him in.

I have had so many great encounters and the majority of those have happened when I didn't have a tag in my pocket but that doesn't matter they're still memorable.

Hard to pick a favourite but the following are probably my top two

1. After a morning of calling back and forth with a bull I finally heard his cow. She wanted him to leave and started calling and heading away. I changed to bull grunts and raking and he would answer back with every challenge I issued. I had to get mobile as he was following his cow so my dad and I literally ran after this bull. We would stop, grunt smash trees and the bull would do the same. After covering over half a mile in the thick bush of this back and forth the bull had enough and stood his ground. We met in some thick alders that were a maze of moose trails. I pushed forward grunting then dropped to a knee and knocked an arrow. The bull started towards me and at 20 yds I got my first view of him. We were on the same trail and he was headed right at me. At 15 yds I stood up and simultaneously drew my bow. He stopped at 12 yds and lowered his head. My heart felt like it was going to explode as I was trying to read what he was going to do. He decided to take a step to his left and turned opening up his vitals. I slipped an arrow into his heart and he ran 20 yds and collapsed. How do you top this experience?

2. Two days before the season opener we were out putting up a tree stand for my Dad and we did some calling. The night before we had a bull answer in the distance but also a pack of wolves sing to the moon as we hiked out in the dark. It was early and I didn't get any responses so we got to finishing the stand, I wasn't hopeful anyways due to the wolf activity the night before. However, I always love to try and at 8:30 am I thought I would give another few calls. Instantly an echoing grunt travelled across the marsh from 500 yds away. A few calls later and the grunts continued but what was really impressive was the crashing and smashing of trees as this bull made his way to the open marsh. Slowly and LOUDLY he made his way to the marsh. I cow called, he grunted and viciously demolished any tree near to him. He walked the length of the marsh making sure to stay near the edge so he had some vegetation to destroy. Once he got straight across from us he decided to head out into the grass stopping every alder to smash it to bits. My dad snuck out to a clump of evergreen trees and was only 20 yds from this amped-up bull. When the bull was 80 yds away I realized I was nowhere near any cover, I had no gun and my 8 yr old son was standing next to me. I gave my son some instructions on where to run to when and if I gave the command then I gave another call and decided to snap some pictures. The bull got to 40 yds and everything in me wanted to continue this encounter but the safe call was to shut it down. If my son wasn't with me I would have surely continued the calling and who knows what that would have resulted in. Once I yelled at him and waved my arms he stared me down then slowly walked away stopping periodically. To this day this is the most vocal and hyperactive raking bull I have ever called in.

 

[Beendare]

Deleted

 

[Jimbob]

Beendare, I believe that story because my brother is the same way. He gets major buck fever.

One morning I called in a bull and he is headed right for my brother. PERFECT. All goes quiet when the bull gets very close, I cannot see as I am about 150 yds away. Then the bull tears out of there and crashes through the bush. I figure my brother arrowed it so head over to him to ask what happened and his story is all over the place.

First he says that he thought the bull was me coming towards him. I'm like what the heck are you talking about. He says "you know like when you grunt and sound like a moose". I said, "you could hear me cow calling". Then my brother says the bull was so close he could see the whites of his eyes. He didn't dare try and draw his bow because he thought the bull would trample him. Then my brother says "I don't like this being on the ground when you're calling, I need a tree stand"

I think my brother was trembling as soon as he heard those grunts getting closer to him. This is my older brother that lifts weights (had a max bench over 350 lbs), had trouble with bar fights and mix-ups with bouncers. However, a rutting bull coming right at you separates the men from the boys.

 

[AKDoc]

I’ve had three dangerously close grizzly bear encounters over the years…the most recent was two-months ago on a remote 10-day float in western Alaska…



I was just coming out of a series of very tight s-turns in swift current (point-A) in the image. I looked up to judge the river ahead, and I immediately saw a large sow grizzly with a second-year cub standing right at the water’s edge, both looking down for salmon (point-B). They were directly in front of me, and the current was flowing directly to them. I’m estimating that they were perhaps ten-yards away and maybe three seconds from hand-shake distance. When I saw them, I had two quick thoughts go through my head…draw your pistol…no, get to the shore. In hindsight, I think that one-second deliberation saved me from a mauling. I decided to get to shore and immediately leaned in my raft and started a hard paddle to get it to shore on the right, but that one second delay in action also pushed the other side of my raft into that log/vegetation clump (point-C). At that exact moment the sow spotted me, huffed and charged forward. Also, at that very same moment my raft flipped up-side down in the current and floated into that deep eddy between her and I...I was completely submerged under the raft, and it was surprisingly deep…I couldn’t immediately touch bottom. I was underwater for just a few seconds I think (time gets altered in those moments). I came up holding my raft with one hand and my paddle with the other, and she had vanished with her cub. My friend was a turn behind me and came out of the s-turn, saw my raft up-side down and no sign of me, so he was immediately on alert. I came up just as he was getting close to me, and I yelled, “Did you see those f-ing bears!” His immediate response was “What bears”. However, we did see the top hair on the back of the cub running off. In retrospect, whether the sow was doing a genuine or bluff charge who knows. However, my image in her eyes must have immediately and surprisingly increased in size ten-fold as my raft flipped because the bottom of the raft was directly facing her as it flipped. I think that surprised the heck out of her, so she did a quick U-turn and bolted away…the cub was probably in shock and slower on the draw, but ran to follow her.

I’m choosing to believe that my guardian angel was helping me out!

That photo image was taken the next day before we continued our float. We had to camp right there for the night because my waders were full of water. Everything held in place on the raft, but I did lose a pair of prescription sunglasses and a rain-coat (I always have a spare). BTW, I can personally attest that those Sealine zipper bags ARE submersible!