It pays to look around. I heard there were elk. Then I ran into a ranger and she told me where I might find them. Ran into her later and she actually pointed them out. But they were so far off they were hardly visible. So like a Pavlov dog every time I drove by that area I always stopped and scouted. Didn’t see a thing all week. On my last night I headed to my favourite hotspot for sunset-sandhill-crane-fly-ins. I had just set up when something told me to look behind. Just across the road at the edge of the clearing were my elk. Looked like they were enjoying the sunset as well.
This fall I opted to do Algonquin park over several weekends rather than an extended stay. I’d leave home on Saturday at 4:00 in the morning to get up in time for first light, spend the night and return home Sunday evening. I had god luck seeing moose every trip. But by late fall the moose move deeper into the park and after one trip of seeing nothing I called an end to moose hunting season. … Until it snowed. Then I raced back up hoping to catch one last glimpse of one last moose in first snow. It started out perfect. The park was covered in a foot of freshly fallen snow and I practically had the whole place to myself. As I drove into the park a bull charged onto the road. Though he disappeared as soon as he saw me stop, it was looking good. But it wasn’t. I never saw so much as a rabbit track. I tried all my favorite spots, staked out a few places hiding in the snow under camo. Practiced my moose calling. Nothing. I was totally skunked. Nonetheless it was beautiful and quiet, and I milked the day for every drop of solitude and sunlight. I headed home in the dark and I was midway through the park when I saw a car up ahead pulled off to the side of the road. Always a good sign, though I wished it had come with some daylight. As I approached I could see the bull behind the tree line – even less light back there. The other car gave up and left me alone with him. I could see he was a young bull and didn’t mind company. He ambled about feeding, occasionally glancing toward me, but I could barley pull focus and didn’t really have a good shot. Then he popped his head through the brush, appeared to glare at me, then disappeared into the dark. But not before I was able to focus in on the snow dusting his head
FALL GLANCE