My week-long quest for a Newfoundland moose at Northwest Gander Outfitters started when owner Matt Wettlaufer picked me up at Gander Airport. Wettlaufer’s main camp is situated 15 kilometres off the road near the Northwest Gander River and he has the use of three satellite camps deeper in the bush. He reported that a week earlier hunters at the satellite camp got their moose on the second day of the hunt.
Given my choice of locations, I chose the satellite camp.
Wettlaufer is an Ontario native, with his wife, Connie, being the Newfoundland connection. The couple purchased Northwest Gander Outfitters in 2011. The main camp is small, but has all the comforts of home, including electricity, indoor plumbing, and Wi-Fi. Connie set the tone for the week’s meals on Sunday night with a spectacular Newfie “cooked dinner” of turkey with all the fixings, followed by homemade pie.
Mark Zerbes was also on the hunt, accompanied by his father and brother-in-law. Zerbes would be going with me to the satellite camp, along with our guide Ronnie John, and Wettlaufer. We were told to pack for a couple of days, as we would be going miles into the bush by Argo.
After a 90-minute truck ride Monday morning, we transferred everything to Argo and ATV, and were joined by John Stride, who owns the remote satellite camp in the mountains.
Once at camp, we unloaded and headed to a nearby ridge for the evening hunt. John let out a few calls over the conifer-rimmed valley, but no animal answered. After a scrumptious moose-steak dinner, plans were made to go “down country,” a long trip by ATV into the mountains.
Next morning we were about a half-hour into our ride when Stride yelled, “Moose.” We looked up and saw a cow at 200 yards. Since I had the cow tag, I jumped off the Argo, loaded the gun and threw it to my shoulder. The moose was now on the run and quartering away, so I decided not to shoot.
Besides, this was moose central — there would be better opportunities — or so I hoped.
We spent the morning spotting and calling, and although we saw some incredible forests intermingled with muskeg and mountains, we didn’t spot any more animals.
John’s next strategy put him and I in the woods actively searching for an animal; if I didn’t get a shot we might drive one out to Zerbes.
Walking between stunted pines over the lichens and moss that carpeted the forest floor was an entirely different experience from previous hunts. Moose sign was everywhere, but no moose.
Then it was on to the spectacular view from a spot called Ronnie’s Lookout. The distant mountains provided a backdrop to patches of conifers in the valley before us.
John talked of the various moose he had shot from this favourite spot that carried his name. But today it wasn’t to be.
At another lookout, John pointed to a small dot more than a mile away, which was a caribou.
After he and Zerbes headed for the woods, I saw movement behind me.
Realizing it was a caribou, I reached for my camera and Stride stood with his hands pointed above his head, moving the upper part of his body. The caribou kept coming closer, moving to within 20 yards before it caught our scent.
“That’s as close to a sure thing as there is,” said John. He was on the phone, conferring with his brother and father, trying to figure out the lack of moose. “We usually see at least six back there.”
His brother, who worked for another camp, had experienced similar results. They concluded that wind, weather, and state of the rut were to blame.
On Wednesday, we hunted new territory with no luck; lots of sign but no moose. That evening we received word that both hunters at the main camp had taken a moose.
Zerbe’s father, Tyler, and brother-in-law, Eric Frees, shared their stories when we returned to the camp on Thursday.
“We heard the call and started towards where we thought they were and we ran into them,” Frees said. “I was watching my step through the muskeg when the guide said, ‘Bull, bull, bull, put a shell in.’”
After Frees’ shot, he saw movement from a cow and called Tyler over.
“It was 120 yards away, facing me,” Tyler said. “There was a dead tree 15 feet away. I put my gun against it. Her head turned to the left and I put a shot in the brisket.”
That evening, we hunted where they’d shot the moose. This was different country: conifer and aspen woodlot, flat and intermixed with swamp.
Towards dusk, the lonesome bawl of a cow resonated across the wetland. John answered, but couldn’t coax her into the open. Next morning, we heard a cow and bull, but their calls grew fainter as the morning advanced.
After similar results Friday evening, a plan was made for one last morning hunt on the trail leading back to the camp, though John warned us we wouldn’t have the full day to pull it out.
As we crested the hill, I spotted a cow moose adjacent to the trail, standing with only its head and neck visible.
“Moose,” I whispered to John.
As I held the crosshairs on the cow’s neck and gently squeezed the trigger, I was hoping to seal my success. The 70-yard shot connected, closing an exciting week of hunting that had taken me over some incredible terrain and provided a once-in-a-lifetime Newfoundland experience.
It was more than a hunt, it was an adventure.
The trip: Guided Newfoundland moose hunt.
Cost: $4,633 per person for six nights and seven days, one tag per person.
Getting there: Fly into Gander or take the ferry from North Sydney, NS to Port aux Basques, NL, then drive 571 kilometres on Trans-Canada Hwy. 1 to Gander.
Accommodations: Full-service main camp, and spike camps in remote locations with varying amenities
Contact: Northwest Gander Outfitters
709-541-8885
nwg.outfitters@gmail.com
www.northwestganderoutfitters.com
Originally published in the Jan.-Feb. 2018 issue of Ontario OUT of DOORS
Contact Information
PO Box 2800 / 4601 Guthrie Dr.
Peterborough, Ontario Canada K9J 8L5
Phone: 705-748-OFAH (6324)
Fax: 705-748-9577
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