Bruce the Moose

“A moose that walks slowly toward you may be attacking.” - sign         

We were getting impatient. It seemed like we had been stalking this moose for hours. All so we could get a good picture without getting attacked. Because that is what moose do. A moose may decide he wants to attack, and there is nothing you can do about it. There are no tricks to deter him. If he is in a bad mood and you are in the way, then you may be the victim of his fury.

I understand that. And I take it seriously. That is why we were taking our time and keeping our distance. In fact, we were taking so much time that we almost gave up.

Paul and I were on a date to celebrate our 22nd anniversary. We rented e-bikes and enjoyed a 20-mile ride with incredible views of the San Juan mountains. Most of the time we rode together, but if we approached the top of a hill we each had a different philosophy. Mine? Fly! Then wait at the bottom for Paul as he cautiously made his way down. And on the big, giant hill? Go up again for another wild ride!

Through this valley lies the town of Ouray and a sea of peaks that make up the San Juan Range in Colorado.

By the time our rental was up, we were sore and hungry. So we went out to eat. And by out, I mean out. We drove to a lake and found a grassy patch surrounded by aspen trees and laid down a blanket. We lit our tiny camp stoves and cooked our dinner together. We laughed as we chewed our gummy mac ‘n’ cheese. We praised the subtle nuances of flavor in the instant mashed potatoes. We groaned as we finished off our dessert--we were stuffed! Then we made tea and walked down to the lake, wrapped up in fluffy blankets. The scenery was just about as perfect as could be, and we had it all to ourselves.

This is our favorite way to eat out. Five-star views and no crowds!

Then Bruce showed up. We knew he would. We had been to this lake before, and we knew that Bruce the Moose--our moose--came out every evening at dusk to chomp on the willows that crowded around the lake and the streams that flowed to and from it. Yes, we knew that Bruce would be here, and we decided to try to get a picture of him.

We kept our distance. We hid. We waited for Bruce to get his head out of the willows and look in our direction. But Bruce was a moose on a mission! He would gobble all he could from one shrubby willow, then plow along to the next stand and begin again. We followed, from afar, patiently waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting.

Finally, Bruce arrived at a stand of willows that was right next to the road. He shoved his head into the dense branches. We were on a path that was perpendicular to the road, and between us and Bruce was a wide, gurgling stream. We stood near a large cow gate at the end of the path, camera ready.

And we waited. While Bruce tore through his dinner, we waited until my arms were tired from holding up my phone. We decided to get in the van, which was about 50 feet behind us, and drive up next to Bruce to get a picture from the open window.

“I’ll stay here while you get the van, just in case he looks up,” I told Paul.

“Okay.” Paul turned around and walked away.

And right at that moment, Bruce put his head up. I zoomed in to get the perfect shot.

Bruce lifted his head just as a herd of deer crossed the road behind him.

Bruce looked right at me and began walking along the road toward me. He was coming fast. He was coming close.

Bruce made a beeline right toward me.

Uh-oh, I thought.

No! My mind screamed.

This. Is. Happening.

Is this how it ends? Will it hurt? Will the EMTs be mad at me for being so close to a moose? I want to run. Don’t run! . . . Will I get an epic photo?

The cow gate was attached to a sturdy pole. I squished myself against the pole. Be the pole!! I thought. I hardly dared to breathe.

My hands were shaking as I tried to get a pic without moving.

As if in slow motion Bruce came so close I could have touched him. In fact, we could have booped noses. And then, as quickly as it began, the encounter was over. Bruce brushed right passed me and into the willows behind me and began gobbling again.

Ever so slowly I turned around, still gripping the gate post. And there, by the van, stood Paul, frozen. When he had turned around and saw a large bull moose inches from his wife, he wasn’t sure what to do. He definitely didn’t want to startle Bruce. So he stood motionless, ready to go absolutely insane to fight for me if Bruce decided to attack. But thankfully, there was no reason to worry. 

Paul got in the van and backed it up to the fence, where I hopped in, my heart still racing. We said goodbye to Bruce and drove back to the trailer, jabbering all the way about our strange and wonderful experience. I checked my phone to look at my pictures. They are not going to win any photo contest, but they will always be some of my favorites!

A moose video with banjo music? Count me in!

Watch Bruce as he makes his way toward --you guessed it --more willows!

Photos by Jenny Venturo

Original music by Joe Venturo

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