My son and I headed north in 2017 planning a fly in hunt to a small lake I had been thinking about for a few years. Small lake, great habitat and not well known. This was to be his first moose hunt where he was the shooter; he had been with me on a couple occasions and had hunted deer at home.

But....the weather played a hard game with us and the plane was unable to fly for 3 days. We had only planned an eight day hunt so we eventually decided to hunt an area that we could get to with out a plane. We hunted five hard days and there was not a moose to be seen. It was a bit warm and no other action in the area. My son was excellent; paddled hard and he's a great cook so we had fun but headed home empty handed.

This year, we decided to try again with two friends. This year the weather was perfect; a little cold so the pilot had to wait till about 1030 am to let the ice come off the wings before we flew out. We were on the ground well before lunch and found a nice little beach. The pilot had never landed there before so was not sure if there was much of a camp. Well, the only evidence of use was over 20 years ago; nothing recent.

That evening we headed down the lake to scout things out. The other two headed to the opposite end of the lake. We found a nice bluff that overlooked a massive wetland and after about a half hour a nice cow showed up. We watched her feed for over a half hour then we headed back to camp. The other two returned just after us; they had spied a cow and calf!! A nice fire, and dinner and we headed to bed pretty excited.

The next morning was nice and cold and clear. We were in the canoe before eight, headed back to the bluff. My son is in the front with his rifle ready and we paddle quietly.

As we get near the end of the lake, I spy a dark shape out of my left eye. Quickly the binos are up and "moose" I say to my son. I confirm it has antlers...game on.

We quickly make a plan. We will canoe straight to shore; the bull can't really see us as there is some grass and a bit of a hump between us. When we get to shore my son quietly exits the canoe and gets his shooting sticks ready. Once he confirms he's good I make a cow call. The moose stands up and looks at us. He's between 200 and 250 yards and looking straight at us. My son doesn't like his position so asks if he can move forward to better ground. I say yes and he moves up about 5 meters. The moose can see us but isn't making any kind of move. We wait as its not a good shot. We wait a few more minutes and I tell my son that I'll make a bull grunt and see if the bull will move. I let out a quiet grunt and he turns to his right preseting his full side. My son says "can I take the shot?".

Now, my sone has shot a couple deer and is a biathlete, so I have a lot of confidence. He's got a solid rest on shooting sticks. So I say "yes". He waits...and waits a little more; turns out he was steadying himself. Boom....the moose is hit and falls over. Wahooo.....

Now we have to get to him. There is a good size creek in our way so we have to wander a little around. We can see his antlers and still some movement. He's not going anywhere but is not dead. After a few minutes my son gets to him and puts in a kill shot.

Well this is the day before his sixteenth birthday, and he just shot a massive moose. Wow are we happy.

Its a nice spot, fairly dry. He cuts the tag and I call our friends on the radio. Moose down, and we need help. They arrive about a half hour later. The moose is just over 52 inches and nice body size so its a bit of a project but with four of us its pretty fast work. About half way through a plane flies a few times around us before it lands. We realize we are about to be checked by the CO's. Sure enough a half hour later they have unloaded their little inflatable and they come to say hello and check our tags!

We are back in camp for beer by about 2 pm. The rest of the week is darn good. One of the other hunters gets an even bigger bull on day seven, but I will let him tell that story.