Moose Season

September, a month which marks drops in temperature and shorter days. More accurately, moose season. A cooler sat ready, complete with butchering knives, game bags, and staples for 1 or 2 days of hunting. Another cooler, packed full of breakfast items and dinner for three, served also as a place to sit in our latest purchase, a 20 ft. Lund. We'd had experiences on rivers before, learning channels, where to rest out of the wind, little secrets that made pleasant trips out in the boat in Koyuk. But out on the mighty Yukon? A sure way to spoil your idea of what your idea of "must haves" for any boat is a depth finder. Sometimes we'd catch Jay staring at the illuminated red oval screen, "ahhhh, why don't you look at the river, Jay..." Inevitably, Romay and I would follow the same pattern, the need to see how deep the water was at a particular bend or stretch of river. It usually read 30 ft. on the channel. Jay and I had a process down by the time moose season was over. About wednesday night, we'd start scheming, along with another family about the particulars and well, usually reminiscing about the last trip. Funny thing is, half of the fun was talking about what kind of food we'd cook over the Coleman, or the camp fire. The Browns, a family of three, whom we happened to pair up with on our weekend excursions, were nicely outfitted, professionally outfitted. They, being fellow colleagues and school employees, could only afford weekends as our time to search, relax and have the opportunity to fill the freezer with meat. Mr. Brown awed us with his jetboil, "90 seconds to boil a liter of water" or something like that. I can still hear the burner after a dramatical start, sucking butane as I watched our water slowly heat over the propane fed Coleman. I might want one of those for Christmas, since I seem to have problems when it comes to that time of year in relating what I really need. And yes, its developed into a need. A christmas with moose season as its theme, I can see it all now, complete with Cableas smiling down our credit card purchases and well, it'll be well worth anyone's contribution. We had a girl turn 12 in the house. You know what that means, or I know what it means in our household. Usually, it requires having two sets of things. One butchering knife for mom and dad and one for a 12 year old girl. A sleeping bag, no longer belonging to the parents, but "her own" bag, and the list goes on...her own tent, headlamp, cot, gear, perhaps because one day she will do these things without mom and dad. I actually think we'll get together on such occasions, or hope at least. We didn't catch a moose. I organized and cleaned the boat on return trips more that I can count or care to remember. But, Galena has shown its generosity again. Friends have supplied us with enough, enough to remain happy and share. Afterall, the adults in the teacher lounge, which I still have to see in Galena, talk about the latest happening out on the Yukon that time of year. And we love it.