No Moose in Greenville!

  Greenville, Maine, United States
Sunday, October 14, 2007

  After a day of searching in vein for moose we decided to move our hunting expedition to Greenville. About 60 miles south east of Jackman, Greenville was the original destination spot that Joe and I settled on when we were planning out New England get away. We were excited to see what Greenville had to offer. All the tourism books we requested and almost everything we read in planning for our trip revolved around the touristy town of Greenville. Jackman is clearly all about hunting and little else and despite the fact that the hunting has kept us from seeing a moose, we liked that Jackman is so quiet and isolated. I was excited, I admit though, to see what the little town had to offer.  Traveling for about an hour, our drive was colorful and quiet.
 
Along the way to Greenville from Jackman we awaited the flying moose sighting. Not a crossing one, this moose is carved from wood and sports a set of wings. A Native America Legend, this beautiful memorial-esc art work marks the beginning of a private driveway along the highway. www.roadsideamerica.com made us aware of this campy find (like so many of our other ones) so when we finally spotted the wooden Bullwinkle, of course we had to stop for pictures!
 
Arriving in Greenville, we drove through the town waiting to find the downtown. We were surprised to find out that we were actually on it! Greenville was not near the bustling little hot spot that we were expecting and despite the fact that the summer tourist season has long passed, there were only a few restaurants and even fewer shops and retail. Greenville is more a lake than a town and I can only imagine that in the summer the town is a huge hotspot with boating, swimming, and fishing but on this cool fall day, not a lot was going on in Greenville. 
 
We stopped for a simple breakfast at a simple local spot furnished with metal folding chairs and simple tables. The food and service at Auntie M's was really mediocre that day but I believe truthfully that is was just a bad day at Auntie M's. The crowd was huge and clearly a draw for locals and tourists alike. Perhaps the crowd is a result from the fact that it may be one of the only places in town for breakfast but I am going to give it the benefit of doubt.
 
Leaving Auntie M's we embarked on backload driving. We decided on a quiet side road only after driving out the local state park only to find out it was closed! While we may have been searching out a glimpse at that elusive moose, what we found was what became the best of our foliage finds. The gravel paved roads were semi-private and were lined with mailboxes and driveways. While the houses were tucked away deep down winding driveways there was no lack vacation spots and get aways down this peaceful drive. We followed the winding roads for almost 2 hours taking in all the bright colors and trees that towered over the road. There were no views of the sunny sky on this road; we drove in tunnels of fall color, blanketed by what we had come to see.
 
After leaving the gravel road outing, we stopped in at the Black Frog Bar for a beer before heading out of town and back to Jackman where we felt we had a better chance, of catching sight of another moose. The Black Frog seemed like a lot of fun given the only semi-appropriate signage and I imagine it is a hot spot after dark. For us, a beer at noon to say we had been there was enough and quickly we found our way back on the road.
 
Like everything else in life, timing is everything and thanks to the good timing of Joe and Frannie we were lucky enough to spot not only a moose on the way back to Jackman, but her calf. Riding in the passenger seat almost is nauseating when you are search moose. Driving with your head out the passenger window staring into the woods hoping to see the snout of a moose starting back at you can get a little cumbersome and for the car sick prone (like me) it isn't always a comfortable view. Thank goodness then that I was driving and Joe was doing watch out because when he yelled to stop I am not even sure he really believed he saw what he thought he did. Sure enough though a cow and her calf were looking to cross the road just as we had drove past. Joe, so smartly I might add, jumped out of the truck and approached the cow and her calf. I don't think he actually thinks he can actually really piss an animal off but I am not sure I want to be around the day it happens. The cow, with great patience for Joe's intrusion however, just moved her calf across the road and we were able to get a full shot of mother and baby as they slowly meandered across the road. Like the crocodile hunter, Joe continued his conquest for the better, better, best picture and hurled himself into the woods. Running along the edge of the woods along the highway the cow lead the race with cow and crazy photographer following behind. Despite his efforts though, mother and baby were gone as quickly as they had come. Regardless, it was a victory for my ruggedly handsome moose hunter. He got his pictures and we felt that all our searching had been worth it!
 
Despite learning that the best place to see moose appeared to be right from the passenger seat on a major highway, Joe's off-road bug was not finished biting and as soon as we reached Jackman we were back on new roads that one of the outfitters in Greenville had recommended to Joe. I continued to drive the bumpy gravel roads with little confidence and I later learned that we would have been way better off if I would have just driven faster instead of trying to slowly avert myself around all the pot holes. Joe continued to navigate, "turn here, turn there, fork to the left" until we had found ourselves about 15 miles into the woods and stopped along a small river. Well, river equals water and water equals mud and mud equals moose so like a shot, we were parked, bundled up and trekking through the woods.
 
Now is a good time for me to clarify the visual here. We are walking through the woods, in the mud 15 miles into the woods. No one knows where we are and even if they did, they wouldn't save us if we got into trouble because we probably would deserve everything we got at this point for being so nature-disrespectful. Joe would argue our decision, I am sure, but when we started actually tracking a moose, I had to question what we thought we were going to do once we found it (or it found us!) No park, no trail, not even a land marker we only found our way because we followed the river. Who am I Sacajawea? Who did I think I was? We followed the moose tracks; crossed over branches that had been worn away from their monstrous hooves, and looked for signs of how the grassy wetlands laid as a sign of the direction the moose was in. When Joe pointed to the piles of moose poop I decided that if he picked any of it up and smelled it for freshness, I was going to officially loose it. Despite trekking through the mud, crossing embankments over branches that could barely hold our weight, and our survivalist attempts, Joe made the assessment that the moose was not around. While I was disappointed I did question more than once what would happen if we did in fact find the monster. After all, this was their territory, and while I am sure it wouldn't have happened, thoughts of getting stampeded by a huge buck that clearly had more experience moving through these swampy mud-lands than I crossed my mind more than once while Joe was tracking Moose dung that afternoon.
 
Once our tracking expedition came to an end, Joe drove us out and headed toward the cabin. When he passed our warm resting spot and turned instead up the road we had already traveled, the one where we spotted the moose skeleton I knew what he was up to. I haven't quite learned how to say no to much of what Joe does so when he started wrapping the bones up and loading them into the car, promising me that a soak in bleach would take care of any germs I was concerned about I just tried to imagine where he thinks the jaw bones are actually going to go once we get home. Regardless, our load was a little more calcium rich as we headed back toward the cabin to warm up and get ready for dinner. On the way back we spotted the final moose of our trip. The Coup de' Gras, this one was a bull. Although still young, his rack was still impressive. Slow and really ambivalent to our presence, the male allowed Joe to snap away until he got bored of the photo shoot. He simply turned his back and meandered back into the woods where his disappeared into the woods. A huge success of us, we now had the trifecto. Mother, calf, and bull. The trip could now officially be categorized, just in time, as a success.
 
After a beer on our quiet, cold, and dark deck we headed to the Bigwood Steakhouse in Jackman. Located on a residential street the restaurant is a house that is identified as a restaurant only by its lights and sign. Otherwise, it looks just like a normal residence. Walking up the front porch we enjoyed our best meal of the whole trip at Bigwood. We both enjoyed fillets, a wonderful duck appetizer, and impeccable service from the daughter of the owners. Despite dinner being on me thanks to a bet I lost about who would spot a moose first, it was an amazing meal. We headed back to the cabin and tucked in along with the rest of the hunters by 9:00 that night.