It was January of 2016 when I first approached my brother about going on a moose hunt with me. This was a hunt I had been thinking about for a while. My uncle, David Kidder, who lives in Michigan and is the owner of Kidder Safari Co. had been in contact with me about this and knew what I was after. He had been sending clients to Ken Robbins of Whatshan Outfitters for 30+ years, and he assured me if anybody could get my brother and me on good Shiras bulls, it was Ken.
My brother, Evan, was all in. We ended up booking a hunt for October 2018. The next year and a half went fast. We spent the summer preparing and dialing in our rifles. Just like that, it was time to head west. Our hunt would be taking place in southern British Columbia. We loaded up the truck with all of our gear, coolers, and freezers and started out on the 24-hour drive to meet up with Ken.
We met up with Ken, and after getting a few supplies, we followed him out to camp. We arrived and unloaded all of our gear and settled in. The setting was gorgeous. Our cabins were right next to Whatshan Lake. That afternoon, we did a little fishing and even caught a big enough trout for supper.
That night, we stoked the fire in the cabin stove and tried to get some sleep. As usual, it wasn’t easy to get any sleep, but the morning came quickly. After jumping out of bed, we got dressed and packed our daypacks. We met up with Ken and another guide in the cook shack, had a good breakfast, and discussed our plans for the day.
Before the sun came up, we were on our way up the mountain. I was hunting with Ken, and Evan went with another veteran guide. The strategy was to get to the logging clear-cuts, glass, and hunt through when possible.
Ken and I arrived at a cut he wanted to check out. This was a cut we really couldn’t glass, so we eased in quietly to see if there was anything out feeding. Not long after we started hiking through the cut, we could hear the familiar sound of antlers raking the trees. We knew there was a bull there, but we couldn’t see anything. We decided we should gain some elevation and see if we could get above the bull. There he was, his big white paddles shining above his head, and looking right towards us. At this point, there was no shot, so we continued to move higher in hopes of a clear shot through the young pines.
As we were moving, he must have heard us and we could see he was trying to give us the slip and head out below us. I quickly got set up for a shot. He was about 180 yards out and moving downhill at a pretty good pace. He slipped through my first opening before I could get on him. He entered another small opening, and without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger. After I shot, I thought I saw his head go down and he disappeared. Not hearing anything crashing away, we felt confident it was a good hit. We circled below, and there he was piled up not 10 yards from where he was shot. What a feeling and what a beast of an animal! It took the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon to pack him out. I still wasn’t able to contact Evan and tell him the news because of poor signal. Back at camp, we hung the meat and waited for my brother to return.
Finally, after dark, Evan and his guide returned. I don’t think they knew what to think seeing my antlers sitting on the picnic table. They couldn’t believe how blessed we were to be able to find a good bull on the first day.
Over the next two days, Evan and his guide continued to search for another good bull. Ken and I also were out glassing and looking for them. We spotted one bull, but it was not what they were looking for. On day four of our eight-day hunt, Ken said we would be switching things up a bit. Ken would be taking Evan out, and I would be going to check out some different areas with the other guides. Ken seemed to have a honey hole he wanted to check out and that got Evan and me excited with new hope that morning. Little did I know, Ken was taking Evan to the very same spot where I had killed my bull three days earlier.
Evan and Ken got there before daybreak. Once there was enough light to shoot, they eased their way into the clear-cut. This particular cut was not a new one, so it wasn’t exactly clear. There were a lot of young pines and alder brush that made it particularly thick. As they were moving along, Ken spotted a bull on the ridge about 175 yards out. He was standing there majestically and larger than life. They could see right away that this was the bull they wanted. Evan ranged him and got steadied on the shooting sticks. After the crosshairs settled behind the shoulder of the bull, he carefully squeezed the trigger. They knew it was a perfect hit! The bull started to move off, and Evan took one more shot just for assurance and the bull disappeared. After a few minutes, they went to see what they could find. They got to the spot where they last saw the bull, but they couldn’t find anything. This made Evan very nervous, and the doubts started to creep in. They circled and circled, and after walking right past the bull a few times, there he was! Celebration, hugs, and high fives followed. Finally, Evan was able to place his hands on his very first bull moose. What a feeling of relief and success!
Meanwhile, we had just returned to camp for the day. We didn’t have service the entire day, but when we reached camp, I had to see if Evan had any luck. I went to a spot where we got a decent signal and boom! My phone lit up with a picture of Evan behind his bull. In that moment, I felt so much gratitude and thankfulness. As much as I wanted to get my first bull, I think I wanted my brother to get his even more. When they got back to camp, it was a time of stories, relaxation, and fun.
As my love for hunting and the outdoors continues to grow, I find that at the end of each hunt, it’s not about the animals I take home. It’s about the time spent with family and the people I love. It’s about making those memories that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It’s really about the whole experience, from the time you decide to chase a dream to the time it comes to a conclusion. That is what keeps us coming back for more, and that is why we continue to dream of the next adventure.
My brother, Evan, was all in. We ended up booking a hunt for October 2018. The next year and a half went fast. We spent the summer preparing and dialing in our rifles. Just like that, it was time to head west. Our hunt would be taking place in southern British Columbia. We loaded up the truck with all of our gear, coolers, and freezers and started out on the 24-hour drive to meet up with Ken.
We met up with Ken, and after getting a few supplies, we followed him out to camp. We arrived and unloaded all of our gear and settled in. The setting was gorgeous. Our cabins were right next to Whatshan Lake. That afternoon, we did a little fishing and even caught a big enough trout for supper.
That night, we stoked the fire in the cabin stove and tried to get some sleep. As usual, it wasn’t easy to get any sleep, but the morning came quickly. After jumping out of bed, we got dressed and packed our daypacks. We met up with Ken and another guide in the cook shack, had a good breakfast, and discussed our plans for the day.
Before the sun came up, we were on our way up the mountain. I was hunting with Ken, and Evan went with another veteran guide. The strategy was to get to the logging clear-cuts, glass, and hunt through when possible.
Ken and I arrived at a cut he wanted to check out. This was a cut we really couldn’t glass, so we eased in quietly to see if there was anything out feeding. Not long after we started hiking through the cut, we could hear the familiar sound of antlers raking the trees. We knew there was a bull there, but we couldn’t see anything. We decided we should gain some elevation and see if we could get above the bull. There he was, his big white paddles shining above his head, and looking right towards us. At this point, there was no shot, so we continued to move higher in hopes of a clear shot through the young pines.
As we were moving, he must have heard us and we could see he was trying to give us the slip and head out below us. I quickly got set up for a shot. He was about 180 yards out and moving downhill at a pretty good pace. He slipped through my first opening before I could get on him. He entered another small opening, and without hesitation, I squeezed the trigger. After I shot, I thought I saw his head go down and he disappeared. Not hearing anything crashing away, we felt confident it was a good hit. We circled below, and there he was piled up not 10 yards from where he was shot. What a feeling and what a beast of an animal! It took the rest of the morning and part of the afternoon to pack him out. I still wasn’t able to contact Evan and tell him the news because of poor signal. Back at camp, we hung the meat and waited for my brother to return.
Finally, after dark, Evan and his guide returned. I don’t think they knew what to think seeing my antlers sitting on the picnic table. They couldn’t believe how blessed we were to be able to find a good bull on the first day.
Over the next two days, Evan and his guide continued to search for another good bull. Ken and I also were out glassing and looking for them. We spotted one bull, but it was not what they were looking for. On day four of our eight-day hunt, Ken said we would be switching things up a bit. Ken would be taking Evan out, and I would be going to check out some different areas with the other guides. Ken seemed to have a honey hole he wanted to check out and that got Evan and me excited with new hope that morning. Little did I know, Ken was taking Evan to the very same spot where I had killed my bull three days earlier.
Evan and Ken got there before daybreak. Once there was enough light to shoot, they eased their way into the clear-cut. This particular cut was not a new one, so it wasn’t exactly clear. There were a lot of young pines and alder brush that made it particularly thick. As they were moving along, Ken spotted a bull on the ridge about 175 yards out. He was standing there majestically and larger than life. They could see right away that this was the bull they wanted. Evan ranged him and got steadied on the shooting sticks. After the crosshairs settled behind the shoulder of the bull, he carefully squeezed the trigger. They knew it was a perfect hit! The bull started to move off, and Evan took one more shot just for assurance and the bull disappeared. After a few minutes, they went to see what they could find. They got to the spot where they last saw the bull, but they couldn’t find anything. This made Evan very nervous, and the doubts started to creep in. They circled and circled, and after walking right past the bull a few times, there he was! Celebration, hugs, and high fives followed. Finally, Evan was able to place his hands on his very first bull moose. What a feeling of relief and success!
Meanwhile, we had just returned to camp for the day. We didn’t have service the entire day, but when we reached camp, I had to see if Evan had any luck. I went to a spot where we got a decent signal and boom! My phone lit up with a picture of Evan behind his bull. In that moment, I felt so much gratitude and thankfulness. As much as I wanted to get my first bull, I think I wanted my brother to get his even more. When they got back to camp, it was a time of stories, relaxation, and fun.
As my love for hunting and the outdoors continues to grow, I find that at the end of each hunt, it’s not about the animals I take home. It’s about the time spent with family and the people I love. It’s about making those memories that I will carry with me for the rest of my life. It’s really about the whole experience, from the time you decide to chase a dream to the time it comes to a conclusion. That is what keeps us coming back for more, and that is why we continue to dream of the next adventure.