Moose And Me

After a rough ride through the broken ice on my snowmachine I got to the other side of the river. There is a high cut bank that detours me down river a short ways until I come to a small creek that allows me acces up the bank. From there it's a big frozen swamp with huge areas that the snow is pawed away. Often times moose get down on their front knees, while their hind ends are still standing and eat the plants that are froze under the snow. They gather in these areas in large numbers when the snow is not too deep. There they forage while also scraping bark from the willow bushes with there lower front teeth. They munch the tips of the branches usually by method of grabbing the branch in there mouth and breaking it down for easy access.

The Alaska Department of Fish and Game estimates 4000 moose in this area and down river to the coast.

The moose are a blessing for sure. This part of Alaska was meat hungry as early back as the 1980s. The moose population was dier and they closed hunting season for 5 years in hopes they would repopulate. They sure did. It was a success story unlike any other. The population increased rapidly, due to what many believe was the fires upriver. They think they drove many moose down to inhabit this lush willow rich country. With very few wolves in the area as well, they have a pretty easy life around here.

I also can see a down side to having too many moose, especially when I come riding down a thick willow trail and there is a moose or three on the trail ahead. The drill goes like this: Do a face off for a few minutes and see if he leaves the trail. If not, yell and clap my hands. If that doesn't work, I get off and start manually turning my machine around on the tight trail all the while keeping one eye over my shoulder watching the moose.

Once, while having a face off and getting about midway turned around I had a impatiant moose charge down the trail towards me. I had to jump off the trail and flounder through the chest deep snow to a tree to climb. I was able to get five feet up before the now running moose decided he would jump over my snowmachine. He leapt through the air with form much like you would see a flying reindeer on Santa's sleigh. The moose's leap fell short; his back hooves didn't clear the machine and caught on the back rack and he fell like a grand piano right in the snow next to me in the small tree. He looked over. We shared a glance while he layed there for a moment gathering himself. Then he got to his feet and trotted down the trail in the direction he so desperately wanted to go; like nothing ever happend.