What do you say to a horny moose?

What do you say to an amorous male moose intent on making you his blushing bride?  I tried "Go away" but that did not discourage him.  In this case, had a molestation occurred, it would have been right to blame the victim.  I admit it - I teased him.  I lured him into my camp with a homemade moose call.  He galumphed up to me, then stopped and stared as if to say "WTF?"  He was tall and gangly with a branch comically dangling from his antlers.  A young male desperate for his first meaningful experience, he reminded me of guys I dated in high school.  Eventually he realized this was not going to be his lucky day, and he slumped back into the woods with only a few wistful glances in my direction. (a closer photo at the end)

Horny moose

This encounter took place in Maine during one of my photo trips while I was searching for scenic landscapes.  Before the days of GPS, I used a road atlas to navigate, and I became fascinated with a large empty space on the map labelled the Great Heath.  My attempts to find it were frustrating as I encountered a number of dead-end roads but nothing resembling a heath.  Finally, I spotted a small area of bright red bushes and stopped to investigate.  A man in a pickup pulled up and asked me what I was doing.  I explained and asked him if this red patch was the Great Heath.  When he stopped laughing, he said "No" but he could show it to me.  He told me to follow him, so I hopped back into my SUV and headed down the road behind him.

Trail through the barrens

After a bit, we left the road and started following winding, unmarked trails through the blueberry barrens.  I started to think that following an older man way out into the middle of nowhere might not be the smartest move on my part, so I tried to spot any kind of landmark that might help me find my way out if the situation became dangerous.  "Barren" truly described the area because there was nothing there but low-bush blueberry plants and a few rocks.  We came to some woods, went through a gate onto a long gravel driveway and then emerged into a big open space where a large travel trailer was parked.  To my immense relief, a nice-looking, middle-aged woman waved to us.

Blueberry barrens

I needn't have worried.  Mr. and Mrs. Greene were delightful and were happy to show me the heath which they pronounced as "hayth".  Their land was on a high bluff overlooking an immense peat bog which was spectacular in its fall colors.  There was a lazy river winding through the bushes, and there were dark green pine trees around the edges.  I learned that at over 7,000 acres, the Great Heath, with the Pleasant River running through it is the largest peatland in the Downeast region of Maine.  It was breathtaking, and I desperately wanted to photograph it in better light. Before I could ask, the Greenes explained that they were leaving later that day but I was welcome to camp there for as long as I wanted.  Since I had outfitted my Suburban for camping, I was all set.

Great Heath and Pleasant River

The Great Heath

Early the next morning while I was taking pictures, I spotted a huge male moose down in the heath.  He was too far away to get a photo, so I quickly grabbed the moose call Mr. Greene had loaned me and started calling him.  The call was made from a plastic paint can with a small hole punched in the bottom and a rawhide cord extending out through the hole.  To use it, you hold the open end of the can toward the moose, wet your fingers and then draw them down the cord.  The sound it makes is supposed to resemble a lady moose who is "in the mood".  The bull moose definitely heard the call, turned around and took a few steps in my direction, but wouldn't come any closer.  Just then I heard footsteps coming up the gravel driveway and expected to see a person.  Instead, it was the silly young moose hurrying towards me in response to my call.  During the rutting season, a male moose can be dangerous, and he was coming much too close for comfort especially as it was obvious he was looking for love, if you know what I mean.  I tried to get a shot of him in all his male glory, but he was too close and I was jumping into the truck as fast as possible.

He paced back and forth and kept looking at me as I hid in the truck.  Eventually he backed away, so I took a chance, got out of the truck and managed to take two photos before he turned and disappeared into the woods.

Wistful moose