When my three-year-old niece saw a moose her daddy grabbed her and sprinted to safety. When I saw a moose on my hike I inched my way into spitting distance. Seems incredibly close but ask my cross-country team, I spit a lengthy distance.The Eagle Scout guided me along the trail to Lake Catherine. At least I think that’s where we hiked, but I also have a vivid and unverified memory of reaching that clearing as a child. As we stood on the ridge looking at the small lake below Eric (the Eagle Scout) told me our destination was not the small lake before us but the two lakes a mile further. Once we made it to the other two lakes I faintly recalled eating a peanut butter sandwich on large rock that jets out into one lake.
Gazing at the lake textured by wind I imagined jumping in. I also imagined gasping as the cold temperature shocked my system but soothed my aching feet. Noting the rocky ledge I would undoubtedly hit before I made the water I instead turned to sit down and dislodge a few pebbles. There in the damp dirt I saw one hoof print then another. Perfectly normal in a nature setting and I’m no hunter so I appreciated the moment and continued about my way.
Lost in reverie and dulled by the pain of blistered feet (the easy hike had been both for natural beauty and a trial run of an inherited pair of chacos) I attempted to retrace our steps and instead tracked a moose. Right in front of me a female of the animal lay in the tall grass. I felt my eyes widen and my fingers stretch up in anticipation. The beautiful cow looked just like a horse. My mind raced through a series of bad ideas that would allow me to run my fingers down the length of its broad nose. Impulsively I stepped forward. Immediately the Eagle Scout spoke reason reminding me that moose charge and I looked like a good target. I tentatively took one more step when we heard a noise. Another moose.
I stopped and listened. Over the loud pounding of my heart I heard a low moaning sound. Further inspection led me to determine that a fallen tree leaning against its neighbor caused the boughs to creak. As I turned to explain my theory I spotted our second moose—a calf hidden by the brush. I calculated the added risk but gazed at the creature. Sensing my fascination Eric suggested we circle back and find a safer viewing point. Didn’t work and minutes later we crept back for one last peak.
Only this time the Eagle Scout went in for a closer look. He stood under the falling tree, a place I deemed sketchy, and watched the calf. I stood rooted watching the mother with excitement and unease. A sudden snap spooked me and the cow. She rose. I ran. Eric followed.
Back on the trail Eric looked at me with wonder. Wonder at why I didn’t think to tell him that the moose was headed his way. I looked at him with wonder. As an eagle scout and the previous voice of caution shouldn’t he have been watching his attacker? Besides I didn’t want to cause a scene…
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