There is now frost on my windshield in the morning and a white crispy blanket over all the fallen leaves and plants. There hasn’t been snow yet, but I know it’s on the way because this week the chipmunks and squirrels were really amping up their food-gathering operations. I know the coming of winter to mean it’s time to inventory mittens to make sure all have partners, finding the windshield scraper somewhere and getting excited about the Christmas-themed catalogues that come in the mail. In Ross River, all those kinds of thoughts are delayed as people become frenetic about moose.
The colder it gets, the smaller the window to hunt moose becomes. And if you haven’t caught a moose yet, now is time to start “getting serious” about hunting. Serious can mean daily treks out to the bush to wait and make the calls of the female moose. It can mean taking off work to go on days-long hunting trips. The pressure is on to score a big, fat bull moose before the snow hits so that your freezer will be stocked up for winter. The teachers at school who are as yet moose-less were just antsy yesterday to get out the door and hunt this weekend, practicing their cow calls in the hall to each other and teaching lessons while their minds were in the bush.
I enjoy moose meat. It is really high in iron, which explains my early pregnancy cravings for it. It sounds hokey, but it’s also “organic” and not food from pen-living, trench-fed mass meat operations, which is a plus. We don’t need the meat in our freezer, plus we’re still kind of green up here as we’ve only had one Yukon winter under our belts, so we aren’t as “into” the moose frenzy. I am not sure I’m ready to go on a moose hunt yet. I much prefer the fruits of the labour, but who doesn’t? My husband thought he’d go along on a moose hunt one evening after dinner last week just to see what it’s all about. He planned to drive about 15 minutes out of town with a local teacher here and hike in about a kilometer to a “special spot,” to wait and make cow calls. (Nobody here tells where their moose spots are. They are scared secrets)
Within 10 minutes of waiting and settling in, they spotted a big bull, shot it and had their moose kill for the winter. A nice big one with lots of meat. The teacher will subsist largely off of this meat over the winter. I told him we don’t need the meat but he insisted, as an offer of appreciation for my husband’s help and extreme good luck in bagging a moose so quickly.
Everyone at school was congratulating me on the feat of my “good luck charm” husband, asking if they could bring him along on their hunts. The early success in his first ever moose hunt is a very good omen. Indeed, if one goes for numerous first moose hunts and doesn’t bag a thing, it is a sign of a hunter with very bad. So cheer to my good luck hunter of a husband, and to the poor bull who will soon sit, in pieces, in our deep freezer.

Labels: Ross River