“I let out a big whoop and holler, I heard my friends whoop and holler back across the canyon a mile away, they had watched it all go down.”

My dad and I were deer and elk hunting in some remote back country in northern Utah when I was in high school. We saw, to this day, the biggest moose I’ve ever laid eyes on; with fifteen and eighteen points a side and palms that looked like satellite dishes. After seeing this bull on a couple different occasions, I fell in love with this area. It was just “moosey” and pretty remote to get into for northern Utah. I knew if I ever did draw my moose tag I would concentrate on this rugged, steep country. 

Fast forward to 2020, and two decades later I finally drew my tag after 23 years of applying. I was really excited and couldn’t wait to start scouting. My first trip into the area was early in June. We had a pretty rough winter so the snow melt  disabled me till then. I made the five mile horse ride into the area. That morning, I saw a few moose. A couple bulls looked like they were starting to grow decent antlers but it was hard to tell how big they were going to be. I set up a handful of cameras on some ponds and springs that I knew about. The next trip in was a month later on July third.