Below is my first view of the campsite, taken when approaching from the south, clinging to the ATV, and wondering what on earth I had agreed to do. The decision to camp in the open was a deliberate one. While the grove of trees would provide some break from winds (and a private place for ladies to use the wooded "facilities"), the 360 degree space made us a bit less attractive to predators, and increased the odds of us seeing or hearing a bear before it reached us. Although we did not take a moose until the last day, had we been forced to store meat from an animal taken early at the site, the open location would have been doubly welcome.
We headed north every day to hunt, up the river bed. Here is the view looking back toward our campsite (if the sight of that small blue tarp dwarfed by a single grove of trees is not enough to make you feel humble, well, then, I don't know what will... perhaps you should move to Southern California, bleach your hair, and start carrying around a small dog with its own set of oversized sunglasses):
The camp itself was fully stocked to accomodate a large party who had no idea how long they would be out. Large piles of driftwood were dragged by teams next to the fire (a welcome stockpile once the snow started); lengths of rope were used to erect a frame, over which a tarp was stretched; tents rose up in friendly domes; and the ATV's were parked close by for easy loading (later, I will talk a bit about what on earth to pack for a moose hunt).
Thinking that you would never in a million years venture out to such a desolate location? Below is the view from the campsite on a clear day. How far would you venture to lay eyes on mountains like these?
