In 1980 Maine held it's first moose hunting season since sometime in the 1930's. There were 700 permits, all resident as I recall. This was to be an experimental season, and if things went well, a permanent season would be enacted. You could hunt for any moose in the area north of the Canadian Pacific tracks, which cut the state in half roughly from Vanceboro in the east to Jackman in the west. That was it, one big zone. A friend of mine convinced me to apply just before the deadline. I guess my entry was near the top when the fella reached in and started to call out names, because I got a permit.
I'd hunted the Jackman to Rockwood area for quite a few years previous, for partridges and for deer. We'd always see a bunch of moose, including some monster bulls. Sometimes we'd have to wait for them to clear out of the road, or the walking trail, before proceeding. My friends and I figured it would be a piece of cake. Well we drove logging roads for the first two days without seeing one! Almost an impossible feat back in those days. I had just purchased a business, and was chafing to get back to it. On Wednesday morning I decided that the first moose I saw was going get my tag, regardless of sex or trophy quality. I figured: "Hey, if it's this easy to get a permit, I'll be going again soon." Little did I know. So first thing Wednesday morning I made one of the stupidest errors in judgement ever made. I shot a cow.
Probably I'll never be picked again, not that I deserve it. Fortunately I've participated in many wonderful moose hunts in the years to follow. But the sting of what could have been has always stuck with me.
guy
Guy Randlett - Registered Maine Guide (207) 633-4549
