June 28, 2007

Another sunny ride the bike to work day.

I went fishing this evening. I caught several small dolly varden. I also caught one very small king salmon. The action was steady, the water was pleasant, the bugs were tolerable.

I almost went swimming. While fishing at a familiar hole, the same hole that started my last moose encounter, I heard some splashing downstream. I looked around the bend and two baby moose were headed my way. I couldn’t see momma, but the babies were uncomfortably close. I ducked into the trees.

I slowly came out from the trees, talking to the critters. They moved on shore and began to graze. I finally made visual contact with momma.

I slowly worked my way downstream and across the creek. Momma gave me a couple looks. The babies stared at me with curiosity. I made it across and ducked into the brush on the other side. I moved downstream and emerged into the creek to return to fishing. I was still pretty close, but I was closer to momma than the babies, maybe 50 feet.

I snagged a log and moved closer to retrieve my lure. I was knee deep. A king salmon swam upstream.

A sudden crashing sound got my attention. I looked up and momma was heading in my general direction very fast. My only cover was the tall brush about 6 feet across a deep pool. I moved quickly toward the brush as the moose family sprinted into the creek 20 feet upstream. The pool was almost chest deep. My waist pack got soaked. I hopped up on the bank as the moose continued on their way to the opposite shore. Some rafts appeared around the bend. I realized they had startled the moose as they rounded the previous bend. I caught my breath and said hi to the rafters. Had that water been a little deeper, I would have filled my boots in my move to safety.