Looking For Moose

Apparently The Great North Woods (where the CT Lakes are located) is famous for its moose population. I didn't actually learn this until I saw a bright yellow road sign saying, "caution, moose next 10 miles."

"Cool, moose." I thought to myself. I hadn't seen a moose since I was in Maine several years ago. "This is going to be an exciting trip for wildlife viewing."

After a few miles, I came to another sign, "Brake for moose, it could save your life. Hundreds of collisions." Under ordinary circumstances, this sign wouldn't have really concerned me. I mean, it's not like I was texting on my cell phone and polishing my toenails while driving; I was looking at the road. And, generally, I like to think that my vision is good enough to spot a 1200 pound animal standing right in front of me. But, for some reason, that sign reminded me of an episode of Myth Busters that I had recently watched.

In that episode of Myth Busters, the hosts quoted several statistics about car accidents that had been caused by drivers hitting moose. They talked about the fact that moose are often hard to spot because they are so tall. Drivers only see the moose's legs, and not their bodies, so the drivers don't notice them until it's too late to stop. The mythbusters decided to test out whether accelerating into the moose instead of braking would create enough force to fling it over the roof of the car and leave the car unharmed. No such luck. Essentially, no matter what speed the driver was going, the test moose pretty much totaled the car.

I kept replaying those moose crash images in my head. That, combined with the fact that it was raining steadily and was quite foggy was enough to set me into a panic. Every tree I saw out of the corner of my eyes was a moose leg. (And, believe me, there are A LOT of trees up there--it's the Great North Woods.) Every time the wind blew, I thought a moose was running out from the forest into the middle of the road to stand there and watch me crash into him. "All right you moose," I wanted to yell, "just get out here and finish me off already! Put me out of my misery!" But they didn't. I just drove and drove and drove, through fog and rain and panic--and never saw a moose once.

The next day, after the rain had stopped and I had a chance to realize how silly my panic had been, I decided that I would go look for a moose. After all, the locals had nicknamed this place "moose alley." Moose are one of the biggest tourist attractions up there. And, as long as I had wasted all that energy worrying about seeing a moose, I ought to actually see one. However, those moose warning signs seem to be a bit overly cautious because, although I looked for days, I didn't see one moose. None of the other people I talked to at the campground had seen one either. The moose all seemed to be hiding. So, I headed home, disappointed in my wildlife viewing.

Aside from a few chipmunks and a loon, I didn't see any wildlife on that trip. Not until the very end of the trip anyway. About an hour after I got home, I was driving south on the 91 outside of West Springfield, and there by the roadside, was a deer just standing there watching traffic.