Yes, I guess I am a member but have never bothered to post before. My Wife wanted to tell her story though so she wrote this up. I enjoy reading all the posts about the home state. Its been too long since Ive been able to get back up there to do any hunting. Ill admit that I am a little homesick for chasing those whitetail. Maybe next year it will be my turn for a hunt trip?
Yes, you are right the hunting unit for Utah on both of these tags was South Slope, Uinta Mountains. The place that we camp is about a 20 mile, 6 ½ hour horse ride through rough and rugged terrain into the wilderness area of the Uinta Mountains. The ride in is beautiful, but dangerous if not traversed carefully. Both the Moose and the Goat tags were once-in-a-lifetime drawings. This is the 16th year that I have put in for Moose and I think the 5th or 6th year that my dad has put in for goat as Utah has just recently opened goat hunting after reintroducing the goats into our area several years ago when I was just a little girl. They were originally transplants from Washington state.
Luckily both the moose and goat hunts opened on the same day and we had both put in for the same area so my dad and I were able to go on the hunt together. The area that we chose to hunt in was somewhat of a childhood haunt for me as I have spent many hours with my dad in that area during the summers and falls of my childhood. Many memories come back with each meadow, tree, creek and lake that I come across reminding me of all the wonderful times that my dad and I have spent together. What are the odds or chances of a father and daughter drawing out on two different once-in-a-lifetime hunts for the same area and same dates? I’d be willing to bet that it hasn’t happened too many times if ever.
We decided to head back the opening day of the hunt, Saturday, Sept. 12th and after arriving at camp spotted a goat right off on a bally across the basin from camp. It was late enough in the day that we wouldn’t be able to make it on the horses to the area in time before dark so decided to head up on a pass behind camp. After about an hour of hiking we arrived at the pass. My dad was tired as the high altitude 11,000+ feet was really taking its toll, so he sat down to glass and my husband and I hiked over to look over a ledge into some meadows below us. Just before we left my dad told us that if we saw something to come and get him first so he could see me shoot it. We saw 3 cow elk, and a calf which surprisingly was the only elk we saw the whole trip which makes me very, very sad, but that is another story. After watching the elk a few minutes and glassing the area we swung around and started heading to the place on the pass that my dad told us that he would meet up with us. No sooner that we had arrived at the top of the pass just below us my husband spotted the moose. There was a cow and a bull. I was in a little depression and couldn’t see them, but my husband put on the brakes and motioned for me to stop and then whispered that there was a bull worth shooting right in front of us. I peaked up and over the bushes and saw what I think is one of the bigger bull moose in Utah that I have seen. I really didn’t think that I would be excited but as soon as I saw him I started shaking. Especially when my husband insisted that we go and get my dad. I told him no, that I’d better just let the lead fly right then, but he insisted that the moose wouldn’t leave. I however was very doubtful, but decided that if they weren’t there when we got back then I would give my husband a very hard time about it for years to come. As it was we were able to get my dad and arrive just in time to see the bull raking his antlers in the brush. The cow took off and the bull jumped and kicked then followed right after her. I don’t think they even knew we were there at that point. I think that the cow was just playing hard to get. The bull was so beautiful as the evening sun made his headgear sparkle and shine. Both moose headed down a draw and were out of sight before there was even time for shooting. We took off through the brush hoping to get another glance of them and did, but I was never offered any shots as all I could see was his antlers. We lost sight of them again and then I saw something white behind a pine tree, thought it was a stump and then it moved. When I had worked my way into a shooting position I was about 60 yards from the bull and had a beautiful broadside shot. I was shaking, but the ol’ 30-06 with a Barnes bullet hit where I aimed it and the bull went down. The rest is history as you can see and I am very pleased with my bull. As the children song goes that my little girls sing everyday…”I am a Very Handsome Moose” I really do think that he is a Very Handsome Moose.
By the time we finished dressing and skinning my moose so he could cool, it was dark. Very carefully we worked our way down the steep mountainside and through the downfall and slide rock back to camp. The next morning was Sunday and so we got the “moose out of the mire” and then spent the rest of the rainy day back in camp as we were hoping that if we didn’t “hunt” on Sunday we would be “blessed.” I guess it must have worked.
Monday morning after the rain it was foggy every which way we looked. We decided to take a gamble and head for an area on the horses in which we had seen some goats from camp on Sunday. After a two hour horse ride we arrived in the area only to discover that the goats weren’t there. My husband had never been in that area before and the magestic beauty of the area that morning was so fascinating that we decided to continue to the base of the bally so that he could see what was there. No more than a couple minutes worth of riding proved that to our surprise, the goats had not left the area, but were right in front of us on the bally. The sight was breathtaking. We hurried and tied up the horses to some small wind blasted pine trees and quickly headed over so dad could get a shot. As we approached, the big billy started heading for the skyline and so dad made a very long shot almost straight uphill and knocked the goat down with his 7mm. The goat was about ¾ of the way up the bally and when he went down he started to roll and roll he did. We didn’t ever think that he would stop. He rolled and rolled and fell over a cliff, hit the slide rock and then rolled and rolled some more. He probably would have rolled clear to the bottom of the mountain except he finally intercepted with a huge rock that jutted up. Honestly, I was wondering if there would even be anything left of the thing by the time we reached him, but he wasn’t as bad as I thought he would be. I think we will be able save the cape and with some careful repair I should be able to do some stitching and hide the scars so that my husband can mount him for my dad. With the tips of his horns broken off he measured 8 5/8”, so I would imagine that he would have been around 9” maybe even a little more. I was just glad that we didn’t have to hike any farther up the steep slide rock than we did. We were lucky in hind sight that he did roll. After picture taking time we rapidly set to work dressing, caping, and boning so that we could get him packed down to the horses and get back to camp as a nasty storm was in the making overhead.
Have you ever been in a high mountain lightening storm when the lightening flashes and the thunder sounds at the same time shaking the ground as well as your teeth? When the smell of burnt rock is thick in the air and your horse tries to jump out from under you with each deafening clap of thunder? To put it mildly I don’t enjoy it at all and with each flash of lightening you also see a flash of your life in front of your face and it makes you wonder if you will live to see another second. Thank goodness though we had everything taken care of and were just mounting our horses when the first drops of rain started to fall. We made it back to camp before the lightening hit and it rained, sleeted, hailed and snowed on us the rest of the night, which made for a world of sparkling beauty the next morning that no pictures can do justice too.
As it was I would have to say that this was a “Once-in-a-Lifetime Daddy Daughter Date” that I will never ever forget. What could be better than going on another hunt with my longtime hunting buddy (my dad) and my sweetheart? The only thing that I can think of that would have made it better would have been if my three small children could have come with us as they were just as excited about the hunt as Dad and I were.
I wish all of you luck and success in your hunts and as father and daughter always say… “We’d rather be lucky than good any day although it helps to have a little of both.”
