So I come home from a hike this morning. I went early into the backcountry, just to spend a couple of hours before the coming storm hits. The snow back there is knee deep at this point, so I’m tired from the workout.
No problem, I’ll just go inside and get out of my wet stuff and pound some coffee. That’ll fix me right up.
What the hell?
Why the hell are there THREE moose hanging around the door?!
Hey, I used to watch Rocky & Bullwinkle, I know how this works. They’re just harmless, cute ruminants. They’ll probably just skedaddle when they hear and smell me.
Oh, wait, they’re not deer, they’re fucking MOOSE. They don’t “skedaddle” for anything, they stand and stare and contemplate converting to carnivorism.
It’s not just three moose…it’s a mother moose and her two daughters.
So, a quick lesson for you, if you’ve never encountered a moose up-close before. They’re, uh, kinda big. I don’t mean big like an NFL player, I mean big like in a moose vs. car fight, the moose wins. They’re not as huge as bison, but they’re not far off, either.
Anyway, I came to a stop about fifteen feet from Momma Moose and she…well, she stared. She stared like any mother who was worried about her daughters would.
I wasn’t a guy just trying to get inside to relax, in her world I was some creeper in a trench coat on a playground…
It’s a reminder of an old joke, “What can a fifteen-hundred-pound moose do? Anything it wants.”
Deer would’ve just run. Elk would’ve just run. Hell, even a mama bear would’ve started herding her cubs away. Momma Moose? She owned that damned area, and I was the one who was gonna have to leave.
I am, just to let you know, typing this over breakfast at the cafe down the road…