Roughly a 3.5% chance to draw. An Alaska moose tag I’ll likely never hold again. And I’ve got a decision to make before September.
From the second I drew it, I had exactly one thought: I’m killing this moose with a bow. No question. No debate. Bow.
To understand why I was so sure, I have to tell you about a grizzly.
Last time I was in Alaska, I wanted to take my bear with a bow. My guide carried a rifle — a bush gun, there for bear protection, nothing more. But the situation got tight. Too close, too dangerous, the kind of moment where somebody says “just shoot it.” So I did. I killed a great bear with that rifle. And I have regretted it ever since. Not the bear — the choice. The rifle was right there, so I reached for it, and I’ve never been able to shake the feeling that I didn’t really try.
So this time, the plan was simple. No rifle. Just me and my bow. Burn the ships.
Then I started lining up the logistics — gear, flights, the whole circus of getting into the Alaskan bush. And a buddy asked me, “You’re not bringing a rifle just in case?” Honestly? It was the first time the thought had even crossed my mind. Then Clint — my good friend and one of our consultants, who’s coming along to film and help me pack out — said the same thing.
Their case is a good one. Picture a bull standing at 250, 300 yards with no way to close the gap, and me just watching a once-in-a-lifetime moose walk off because all I brought was a bow. I’d kick myself for the rest of my life. And there’s the bears — if a brownie comes for the meat, a rifle beats the .45 on my hip every time.
I can’t argue the logic. I really can’t. But here’s what my gut screams: if that rifle is within reach, I won’t try as hard. I know I won’t — because I’ve already done it once. The bear gun was right there, and I reached for it. Put a gun near me and the bar quietly drops. I’m a burn-the-ships guy. Take away the exit and you find out what you’re actually made of.
So Clint and I cut a deal. He brings his .300 — for bear protection, and if it truly comes to it, a last resort. And I told him straight: do not let me just grab the gun. Push me. Make me try. If I start reaching for the easy way, get in my face about it.
And here’s the part I’ll be honest about, because honest is the only kind of writing worth doing: that rifle isn’t truly off the table. I want it to be last resort. But “last resort” is still a resort. I couldn’t quite burn the ship all the way down. Maybe that’s wisdom. Maybe it’s the exact same crack that cost me on that grizzly. I genuinely don’t know yet — and I won’t, until there’s a bull in front of me and a rifle within reach, somewhere in the Alaskan bush this September.
So I’m asking you: What would you do? Bring the rifle and give yourself the insurance on a hunt you’ll never draw again? Or leave it home, burn the ships, and force yourself to earn it with the bow — bears and heartbreak be damned?
I’m still wrestling with this one.
— Kurt
Kurt’s Alaska moose hunt is this September — the recap is coming. If a bull of your own is on your list, we book archery moose hunts through vetted outfitters. Browse Hunt Adventures or reach out to our team to plan yours — and we get into calls like this one on the Hunt Podcast.
