As soon as the meat was on the pole, John and I grabbed our bows and headed back to the spotting location to get after another bull. Jason was now "camp bi$%^" and was cleaning up and getting a moose stew going with fresh bisquits.
John and I glassed for 4 hours and never saw a moose. He said that the only time he'd seen this happen before was when wolves moved into the valley.
The next morning we hit it again for 3 hours and finally found two bulls about 4 miles away. One was the bull they called "Mr. Big" from the previous year. He was a lot like the bull Jason got only bigger on all scales. A true monster bull but way too far to go. In the morning we only saw the two bulls, a cow and a cow and a calf. We'd been seeing 20 bulls at a setting so something was up.
With two days to go in the season, our chances for a second bull and more importantly one with a bow were gone.
We decided to give it one more try and if we didn't see moose to go after we'd put the signal on the runway that we were ready to come out.
Our next session showed no moose again so we decided to cash in our chips and head for home.
We had a good breakfast in the morning and started breaking camp. John went up and put a red and a blue tarp on the runway indicating we need meat and us out. We got all taken down except the tent and stove and decided to take a couple more pics.
When we took this pic I looked over the top of the camera to see a yellow Super Cub land on the strip.