# NEWFOUNDLAND 2019



## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

​After my 2018 Newfoundland trip I had every intention of taking a year off and spend my hunting money, and then some, on a tractor and implements, but when spring came, I thought, what the heck. 

If, by some slim chance I could find my ultimate hunt, I would go for it and get a tractor next year (or the one after that). My ultimate hunt would be to pursue moose and woodland caribou and do it on a hunt long enough to not be pressured by either weather of scarcity of game. Two weeks would surely be long enough to bag quality animals and not feel I had to hunt in pouring rain, blinding snow squalls, dense fog, or in the remnants of hurricanes with winds so powerful a person had to slog through bogs because walking on low ridges was impossible. I would not have to hunt when winds were so strong that meat sheds, docks, and outhouses were getting smashed and blown into lakes. Those things have happened in Newfoundland on previous hunts and were not even close to being pleasant experiences but when time is not on your side, you have to do what you have to do.

Since it was late in the year, May to be exact, only four months away from the season opener, I figured the chances of finding my perfect hunt were slim to none but anyone who has planned a great adventure knows that the challenge of getting all the pieces to fit properly is sometimes more rewarding than the actual kill. So, if I could get this thing put together, I knew I would be accomplishing something personally satisfying.

After checking with two outfitters used previously, I discovered that the first had lost all of his caribou tags due to the F&G, or whatever the official name is, closing the season in his hunt areas and the second had long since committed his tags but said if I was willing to wait until mid to late August, he might be able to pick up tags from someone else. Once I get the urge to plan a hunt, I am not one to willingly wait idly by for several months so I began checking with outfitters others had used and recommended and even sent some random requests for info to some of the hunting camps on the island’s long list of outfitters. Some had not been allocated any caribou tags so hunting that animal was off the table from the get-go, but several had some moose tags available and did their best to get me to book a hunt. A couple outfitters had “a” caribou tag left but I was not willing to take out a second mortgage for a hunt. I came really close to asking those outfitters if the stags in their area had gold plated antlers. 

Having exhausted all my other options, I fell back on a tried-and-true technique used successfully several times over the last decade, I contacted a hunting consultant.

Almost miraculously, within minutes of sending an email explaining that I wanted a two-week hunt for both moose and caribou, I received a response saying that he thought he might have an outfitter with just what I was looking for. Ten minutes after that he sent me a name and phone number.

A prompt call found the outfitter in New Brunswick lobster fishing, or trapping, or whatever it is called. After quickly explaining who I was I proceeded to make clear exactly what I was looking for and why. He thought he had something for me but didn’t have his booking ledger with him to see where he might have a vacancy in his camp two weeks in a row and it would be a week and a half before he would be back home in Newfoundland. It would be a long ten days. FM (To Be Continued)


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

As promised, he called and I found out why he had a reasonably priced caribou tag at such a late date. It seems the hunter who had reserved it a couple years previous had decided he wanted to hunt moose instead. When the tag became available, the outfitter contacted the hunt broker and I had apparently contacted the broker within hours thereafter. Talk about luck.

In order to get the caribou hunt off the books he offered a discount nearing 20%, but the catch was that he insisted both animals be hunted in the same week, the first week of season. I sensed he was willing to deal so I figured I had nothing to lose by doing a little negotiating on my end so I again repeated that I wanted a two-week hunt and why I wanted it. In due course he came around to offering the two-week hunt for the price originally quoted. I lucked out again. The only concession I had to make was that if I filled up the first week, I would break camp with the other hunters. Hardly a concession at all in my mind. 

My only cause for pause with the deal was that I was going to be scheduled for the third and fourth weeks of season, since the camp was at capacity the second week. Caribou meat gets nasty, downright inedible, when they are in the rut so I was a bit concerned, but checking with previous guides, outfitters, and a meat processor assured me they should still be palatable at the end of September and into the wee days of October but the rut would be picking up so it would be best to concentrate on getting a stag early on. 

Before getting the contract and sending the deposit, I wanted answers to the usual questions: References, type of landscape, experience of guides, years in business, percent repeat clients, refund policy, accommodations, food (poor food in camp is unforgivable, IMO), etc. and last but certainly not least as far as I was concerned, field care and meat processing. Everything checked out and due to the fact I was hunting two animals I was assigned my own guide rather than his customary 2x1.

When asking questions and more or less trying to get a feel for the guy I inquired as to how many moose tags he was allocated. I knew he only had one camp so when he responded that he had 55 moose tags I dang near soiled myself, but before I could express my surprise, he quickly explained that he knew it sounded like a lot but he had a large area and where he hunts in September pretty much gets rested in October and that in November there are other areas to hunt.

Woodland caribou being my primary focus, I then asked about those tags too, since he had not volunteered the number. His response was “one” and then qualified that by saying he didn’t know why he still had that tag because the F&G had revoked tags from the outfitters around him a few years earlier. Having the only tag in an arguably vast area seemed to be an advantage. Stags might be harder to find in a low density area but the ones that were there would have a greater chance to mature and wouldn’t be picked over by the time I arrived for the third week of season. Lady Luck was lovin’ me, no doubt about it! Fast forward to Newfoundland. FM *(TBC)*


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## Fish Hook (Jan 12, 2011)

I hunted a week in Newfoundland with a friend, we had booked the trip 18 months ahead of time with at Grey River Lodge, at their Rocky Ridge camp. They also do bear hunts and summer fishing. Our trip turned out to be two 2 weeks after 9-11. We fortunately had booked and left from Windsor airport, and flew in to St. Johns via Air Canada, getting a connection in Toronto. We each had a moose and caribou tag, but we never saw any good bulls, and we each scored on nice a woodland caribou stag. The caribou meat was excellent! Driving back into Detroit from Windsor across the Ambassador bridge with 2 rifles, ammunition, knives, 2 dead caribou (meat / antlers / capes) was entertaining, as we were detained by Customs and had the vehicle searched. But after 4 hours of the line of vehicles to cross and and our hour inspection, we were on our way home. It is a very beautiful island, long walks, glassing, many streams, ponds, lakes and bogs that will suck the knee boots off of you! Your posts above take me back right back there! 

Looking forward to your hunting stories! Best of luck!


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## UPHuntr (Feb 24, 2009)

We are headed to the River of Ponds area next year for a moose hunt, we are booked for the second week and are being told the moose rut should be going pretty good by then. Already counting down the days.


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

UPHuntr said:


> We are headed to the River of Ponds area next year for a moose hunt, we are booked for the second week and are being told the moose rut should be going pretty good by then. Already counting down the days.


Bring good boots and raingear. If you fly in to Martin Lake, don't let Brian try to walk the legs off you. FM


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

.....After getting off the ferry I drove to the outfitter’s house where I signed tags and made final payment. This might be a good place to insert a PSA concerning payments: When planning hunting trips well ahead of time and submitting a substantial down payment travel insurance is generally purchased to keep my tail covered in case something unforeseen comes up. Fortunately, since the down payment was relatively small and the remainder due on arrival, I saved several hundred dollars. Easily enough to process a moose and caribou, should I be fortunate enough to bag both.

After finishing the paperwork and having a cup of coffee, I followed the outfitter and a guide up Highway 1 for several miles before we turned off on an ever-worsening logging road for the 19+ mile (and about an hour and forty-five minute) trip to the lodge. Along the way we crossed a couple long, high, bridges that certainly gave me pause. Not sure what the Pucker Factor would be for others, but I know my tail had a death grip on the pickup seat while crossing. In reality, the bridges were solid but the decks had great holes in the center, some of the planking on the treadways were loose and clattered as I idled across, and there were no side rails at all. Turns out the outfitter had no intention of doing any cosmetic repairs, claiming that the issues had no effect on strength and he was hoping the way they looked would discourage locals (IMO, the road alone would discourage them). His plan obviously worked because I do not recall seeing anyone, with the lone exception of a single ptarmigan hunter who my guide said comes in every year sets up his tent, and hunts a few weekends.

Upon arrival at the camp, I found it very much as advertised and having all the comforts of home including hot running water. The only thing advertised but lacking was big screen TV. Well, actually, it did have a big screen TV but I found it DOA. All the outfitter would say was that it wasn’t working, but the guide related “the rest of the story” later on. While prepping for season the TV was fried while the outfitter attempted some amateur wiring work without disconnecting the TV from the generator. Heck, I had beer and the food was second to none so who needed TV. 

Cell coverage was also available for those who just could not cut the umbilical cord. I was not one of them and shut my phone off. The missus had the outfitter’s number and could contact me through him if there was a true emergency. Not being bothered by the outside world, if only for a week or two refreshes the soul, I don’t care who you are. FM (TBC)


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

Since every day was a day closer to the caribou rut, the time when they become uneatable, I opted to try for my woodland caribou first so Monday morning my guide, Elias, and I headed out on the Argo to the area they called the Caribou Grounds. Elias told me to stay ready because a moose could show up just about anywhere, this was Newfoundland, after all. The Argo ride was rough through the wooded areas, but it was better than walking five miles just to get there. 

At the second place we stopped to glass, the Argo was hardly shut off when a mature stag appeared from behind the rocks in the background and started feeding in our direction.












We were out in the open without anything breaking up our silhouette on the tundra like landscape but being across one of the countless small ponds in the boggy area it apparently saw us as either no threat or mistook us for just another boulder. Either way, it did not pay any real attention after giving us a quick once over. 

After bailing out of the Argo like a couple Keystone Kops, Elias grabbed a white rag and waving it wildly as I followed directly behind him, we were able to trot about 200 yards closer to a place where we could plop down behind a smallish boulder. From that vantage point we ranged the bull at just under 175 yards. He was still ambling along as if we did not exist, but now he was broadside.

In spite of my heavy breathing from the quick stalk and the excitement of seeing such a magnificent animal, I confirmed through my field glasses that he was exactly what I was looking for. He was obviously mature, had lots of points, and of great importance to me he had the double eye guards of classic caribou trophies. 

Things were definitely in my favor. I quite literally had a rock-solid rest, a slowly grazing animal, and a 300 Win. Mag. I figured at 175 yard this was going to be a chip shot. WooHoo! 

Unfortunately, I was still heaving badly from excitement and the stalk so even leaning over a rock, the scope was not as stable as I would have liked but since the cross hairs were moving up and down just behind the shoulder and not forward and back, I felt secure in slowly squeezed the trigger. BAM, he staggered a few steps and stopped, but wanting to make sure he would stay put I squeezed off another shot, but he was already going down.













As the pic shows, that is not red moss, the heart shot put him down immediately. The white "shawl" is really beautiful, and I wish I would have had room for a shoulder mount. He had 21 total points.












After pictures and field dressing, we managed to get him loaded on the Argo and in spite of the fact we had packed sandwiches we hoped to get back to camp in time for a hot lunch. 

We all know how hunting plans sometimes have to be changed on the fly and our very simple plan was one of those. The extra few hundred pounds caused us to get stuck while crossing a steep little ravine I could have jumped across. Fortunately, the only tree within a couple hundred yards, a 3” tamarack, was a dozen feet away. It was off to the side a bit but after some fancy winching and twisting on the part of Elias, we managed to get the Argo going. We did get back for lunch, but a very late lunch.

After eating, we hung the stag to cool so that in the evening or early the next morning, depending on the success of other hunters, the animals could be taken to the processor.












Note the little piece of hide peeled off the back. That was shot #2 just as he was going down. FM 

(TBC)


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## Nostromo (Feb 14, 2012)

Nice Stag and writeup.


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

Nostromo said:


> Nice Stag and writeup.


Thanks. I meant to put this together two years earlier but between covid, a crashed computer, and plain old procrastination.... FM


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## UPHuntr (Feb 24, 2009)

Did you connect on the moose?


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

UPHuntr said:


> Did you connect on the moose?


Patience, my good man, patience. I need to put a few finishing touches on the last installment. FM


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## Nostromo (Feb 14, 2012)

Forest Meister said:


> Patience, my good man, patience. I need to put a few finishing touches on the last installment. FM


Can't rush a Craftsmen.


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

After we finished hanging the caribou, we hopped in a pickup truck that had not been licensed in several years and bumped along some “roads” to look over areas for moose, but my heart was just not in it. I was still on my “caribou high”. We did see a couple animals towards evening but nothing I wanted to shoot. 

Two of the guys in camp did fill moose tags that first day, including the largest bull of the week by a hunter that had been there several times before. He was only looking for meat and had vowed to shoot the first animal he saw, cow or bull. If that first animal was a bull, he said he was going to donate the antlers to his local Moose Lodge. He got his meat, and the Lodge got a 51” trophy, HUGE for Newfoundland. One of the other three people in his party also filled a tag in one of those flukes of luck that happen to all of us on rare occasion.

The hunter had the misfortune of severely twisting a knee so badly that he knew his hunt was over just a couple hours after it started. Since he had just started back from looking over a large marsh when the accident occurred all he could do was slowly and painfully work his way back as the knee got bigger and bigger. Having to stop quite often because of the pain, the guide asked him if it was OK if he left him for forty-five minutes or so and take his partner over to a small bog not far away while he rested on a log. While waiting for the guide and his hunting partner to return, a moose walked up and thinking it was the guys returning he turned around to look and there, about 20 yards away was a moose, which he promptly dispatched. Talk about falling into $#!t and coming out smelling like a rose. 

The second morning saw me hiking to a really cool vantage point on a hillside overlooking a pond with a rather substantial stream running into it and out the other side. The opposing hills had varying amounts of trees and open areas. Elias set up the electronic call and we settled in. After about an hour or so of on and off calling we glassed a bull that walked out into a small opening across the valley at about our two o’clock. The rut was in full swing but he did not seem interested in the call and a couple minutes later we found out why when a cow came into view in the same small opening. For the next couple hours, we had a ringside seat to some real North Woods Porn. Over that span of time, we must have seen that bull “make love” to the cow close to twenty times, and that was only when they were visible in various small openings. Who knows what went on in privacy of the trees! Elias said he had never seen anything like that before. At one point another cow came into view in one of the same small openings but the bull paid no attention to her. I ranged the bull at about 525 yards when at his closest point so in spite of being encouraged by the guide, I didn’t even think of taking a shot. I still had almost two weeks to hunt so there was plenty of time to look around. We also saw a bear that morning at about 400 yards, but I did not try a shot, I was still hoping the bull would come within my comfort zone.

That afternoon we set up about a mile from where we were in the morning and we saw the same two moose (the bull had the same antler configuration) across a river about 400 yards out. They were still going at it so we were not surprised our calling didn’t even turn his head. No wonder bull moose are reputed to lose 125 pounds or more during the rut. 

The third morning was plain old miserable with a wet snow sticking to the brush. The guide wouldn’t let me wimp out, though. In spite of my raingear and rubber boots, everything I was wearing got soaking wet, either from sweat because we had to keep moving, or from snow going down my neck every time we had to duck under snow laden evergreens. I got chilled to the bone whenever we stopped. The only positive was when we neared the top of the “mountain” a stag popped over the hill and curiously moved in our direction. His antlers were taller than the one I bagged the first morning but were not as wide and he had no eye guards. By the time we left the hilltop to head back to camp the temperature had risen enough for most of the snow to have fallen off the brush. For that I was very grateful.

After changing into dry clothes, having another great lunch, and hanging around camp for an extra hour while our raingear and hunting clothes finished drying in the “drying shed” (every Newfoundland camp should have one of those) we packed up and left for the afternoon hunt. Thank God we took the Argo because the morning hunt had beat me up pretty well with the cold, snow, wet, and continuous climbing.

We went uphill, through mud, and over rocks for over three miles before parking the Argo and walking an estimated half mile. Then we settled into a sheltered nest between a couple 4’ high boulders that Elias had modified with numerous smaller rocks over the years. It was alternating between spitting rain and wind driven downpours, typical hunting season weather, but all things considered, we were relatively comfortable in our sheltered spot. Trees were sparse and patchy on that plateau making it look like prime caribou habitat but the guide said he had killed a lot of moose up there over the years. That was good enough to reassure me we were in good area.

We settled in, the call was turned on and to my astonishment, the calling was literally nonstop. I asked the guide why he set the call to moan continuously with only a minute or so between cycles rather than the customary 15- 20 minutes. He responded that sometimes during the peak of the rut nonstop calling was the only thing that might lure a bull away from his cow. I had never heard of such as that, maybe it was a local thing, but I learned long ago to never argue with a guide, especially one who had guided well over 100 successful hunters in the last 20 years. 

After maybe 45 minutes or an hour of calling a cow and bull materialized out of the uphill end of a ravine a bit over 300 yards away. They were not paying any attention to the call and appeared to be traveling cross country as near as I could tell. 

Looking into the wind driven rain with fogged field glasses and watering eyes the bull’s antlers were a blur but from what I could tell were not as large as I was looking for so my head told me to wait, but the bull did seem to have a very large body and the opportunity to make a long shot on a moose was making my heart speed up. In short order my trigger finger made the final decision. He dropped even faster than did the caribou two days earlier. Getting to him was a real challenge, though. At just over 300 yards it should have taken no time to get to him but things are not always that easy, especially in parts of Newfoundland. Between me and the bull were two ravines and a large pond. The guide opted to crawl through the ravines, pulling himself up using what brush there was, but carrying the extra bulk and weight of a rifle I opted to skirt the ravines and therefore had to go around the pond, which added several hundred yards to my walk. After field dressing the bull, we propped him open to cool as best we could and headed back to camp. He would be retrieved first thing in the morning.
















The little vehicle used to retrieve game is a *"J5".* I am told it is an old military vehicle from the '60s. That thing can apparently go anywhere since all the game is taken out whole from just about anywhere it falls. They drive up to the moose, winch it up on the expanded track covers and go. Two moose at a time can be retrieved if necessary. Animals are taken to the processor within hours of being brought back to camp or the following morning if brought in late. Being able to take the entire animal to the processor in one-piece results in less waste and much cleaner meat than if an animal is skinned, quartered, and packed out on one’s back.

Three days into my two week hunt and it was all over. The outfitter had been right when he said I should have no trouble filling both tags in a week. Now there was nothing left to do but drink beer, eat more great meals, and shoot the breeze with other hunters until the end of the week.

Of the eight moose killed the week I was at camp, only the bull with a 51" spread had a bigger body than my bull, and having moose left from a hunt two years earlier, both my freezers were unable to hold everything I brought home so I gave away meat to everyone I could think of. I even give a friend a big cooler full of moose and caribou. He seemed happy to get it but he may have been grumbling under his breath. Why? He had hunted in that camp the first week and of the ten hunters in camp, only one did not fill a tag. One guess as to who that was!











The week I hunted there were nine hunters in camp and eight of us took moose including an 86-year-old and a younger fella hunting with him, an 82-year-old. The only unsuccessful hunter was a woman who wounded a "big bull" (according to her guide) the first afternoon and then missed another "decent bull" the last morning......at 60 yards......three times.

The story of the 86-year-old gentlemen and his partner was both heartwarming and heart wrenching. They had both been coming to Newfoundland for a long time. Charlie, the oldest, claimed to have been coming every other year since the mid 70’s. Once he retired at age 65, he came every year. He said he had only gone home without a moose twice in all that time. Ken, the young pup, as Charlie called him, had only been coming since the late 80’s and he too was successful most of the time. The heartwarming part was listening to those two relate past adventures. The heart wrenching part was when they announced, soon after filling their tags, that this would be their last hunt and gave all their gear away to whatever guide it would fit. They parted with boots, coats, rain gear, wool pants, gloves, hunting hats, etc. They also gave away field glasses, compasses, knives, a rangefinder, etc. You name it and they gave it away. The only hunting related gear they brought back home to Massachusetts was their rifles. The outfitter was so moved that he told them both they were invited to camp the following year as guests whether they wanted to hunt or just to enjoy camp life. Even without Covid I doubt they would have taken the offer. Their minds were made up. FM


Epilog: I was scheduled to a return in 2022 but with covid tossing a monkey-wrench into Canadian travel I was bumped a year and am now penciled in for another twofer in 2023.


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## FLH (Feb 15, 2014)

Great read. Nicely done!


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## Nostromo (Feb 14, 2012)

Nice write up. Bull wasn't bad either.


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## Forest Meister (Mar 7, 2010)

FLH said:


> Great read. Nicely done!





Nostromo said:


> Nice write up. Bull wasn't bad either.


Thanks guys. I wish I would have had more pics and apologize for that. Any read is more interesting if broken up with pics, no doubt about it. In defense of that, the only decent weather for picture taking was the first day, and I was pretty busy most of that day. Moose pics of and from the little sniper nest on the hilltop and at the kill site would have added a lot but they were so bad because of dim light, rain and my ability to take pictures I deleted them.

The good news is that those shortcomings were overcome in Montana last fall, I asked the guide to take pics and send them to me. Now all I have to do is not procrastinate two years before posting. FM


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## shanny28757 (Feb 11, 2006)

FM really gets after it!!

great read! Congrats on your successful trip.


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## Stubee (May 26, 2010)

A good story well told! Thanks for sharing it.


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## WMU05 (Oct 16, 2004)

This was great FM. A grand, if not short, adventure...and a couple of fine animals. It doesn't get much better than that. 

Congratulations!


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## Luv2hunteup (Mar 22, 2003)

Thanks for sharing Pat. Belated congrats.


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