When we first started our travels, our adventures were mostly confined within city limits. But as we ventured further into the wilderness, a whole new world opened up. The first time we spotted a moose crossing sign on the road was during a trip to my sister’s cottage. It sparked a surge of excitement in us.
Well, Charlene was excited; I was more nervous. I have seen pictures and heard stories of cars colliding with moose, and it is not pretty at all. They are dark and blend in well with shadows, and at night, it is even worse. With both a sense of relief and disappointment, we did not see a moose crossing the road on our first trip into Moose County.
We began to travel farther and more often into areas where moose live and never saw any evidence of them. There would be lots of signs and even statues of moose, stories of moose, and even warnings from people advising us to be careful driving at night because of moose.
Did we ever see a moose?
No.
As our moose sightings continued to be elusive, I started to question their existence. Could it be that ‘moose’ was just a local metaphor, much like ‘bare naked’ has nothing to do with bears, or ‘being chicken’ has nothing to do with chickens? The moose signs, were they just a cautionary tale about careful driving?
We both resigned ourselves to the thought that we would never see a moose in our lifetime. When I drove in Mooseland, I was no longer as vigilant in spotting and avoiding a moose, especially since I had seen as many moose as I had seen unicorns.
One day, we were driving to a waterfall some distance away. I noticed that the road crews cut back the forest on either side of the road. I started to speculate that this was done to avoid being surprised by a moose, and the extra wide clearings were designed to give more warning. We crested a hill, and I was doing my usual looking around, more concerned about deer than anything else when I saw a rock that looked like a moose. I was about to point out this interesting rock feature to Charlene when Charlene bursted out, “MOOSE!“
What I had just an instant before dismissed as an odd-shaped rock was indeed a moose. I began to slow down, mindful that the moose might want to cross the road, hoping to stop and get a good look at this mythical creature. For Charlene, I was not driving fast enough nor slowing down quick enough at the same time. Charlene kept pointing to the moose, almost breathless with excitement. We came to a gentle halt and noticed that the moose stayed in its place, only briefly lowering its ears. It had decided quickly that we were not a threat and continued to sit there, apparently at ease and content with life. It seemed to be enjoying the morning warmth from the sun. We took pictures, and then my wife did the craziest thing ever; she got out of the car.
I begin freaking out because large animals sometimes look friendly but change their mind really quickly. Numerous videos on YouTube show what happens to people and their cars if an animal feels like its personal space is violated. I almost began hyperventilating, trying to get my wife back in the vehicle. I was afraid it would charge, that Charlene would not get back to the car in time, or, if she did, would the moose attack and damage the vehicle. Naturally, I was very concerned.
All of a sudden, a cop car comes over the hill and starts slowing down. I am in near panic mode. Are we violating some moose law of not stopping on the road and looking at a moose? The cop actually stops beside us and gets out. I do my best to quietly/loudly tell Charlene to get into the vehicle. Oddly, the police officer opens his trunk and grabs his shotgun.
Never in my life have I seen a cop grab a weapon, and I am sitting there dumbfounded. I was unable to speak, but Charlene asked what was going on.
The officer replied that this moose was hit by a car, and its legs were broken, which explained why it was sitting there. It was very apparent what was about to happen, and he then said to us that maybe we did not want to see this. I turned the car around and accelerated away from the impending scene of death.
Charlene was crying.
I look into the mirror and see the cop walk to the moose and raise his gun, then I go down a hill and do not see the final moment.
Charlene continued to cry.
It was gutting to finally see a moose only to see that it was to be killed in an act of mercy.
It was a quiet trip until:
“BEAR!“
Our first bear, lying in the morning sun.
“MOOSE!“
Then,
“BEAR!“
Followed by,
“MOOSE!“
It kept going…
“Bear!“
By this point, seeing a bear was now a regular occurrence.
But as we continued our journey, our luck continued to be on our side. We would see a fourth bear, and then we would see our fourth moose. It was a young moose enjoying breakfast on the side of the road. It totally ignored us, and we watched it for quite a long time, savouring the moment and the beauty of this majestic creature.
Our first moose was heartbreaking. Our fourth moose was less than an hour later, and the added bonus of four bears did help to dry up the tears. However, the sight of so many bears in a short time left us on edge when we got out of the car and started to hike toward the waterfall.
