The last night moose

I hunted the entire trip and came up with nothing. Every morning, every evening, glassing ridges, walking cutlines, and not a single moose.

On the very last night we were driving out, packed up, done. I said a quick prayer that I'd at least get to see one before we left.

A moose popped up on the ridge. It got away. I went after it, found it again, and took my first moose.

Photo above. Full story still being written, so this is the short version for now.

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