I was stalking a bull Moose in Ontario in Sept. He was a little better than 50&quot;. We had seen him off a railroad bed and almost got him to challenge before walking off with his cow. We circled around on some old logging roads and found him again. Took off my boots and tried another stalk only to be given away by a chipmonk. As the bull and cow walked of into the bush unsure of what the chippy was bitching at, we ran down the road pararelling them in the bush. My camo suit was makeing a lot noise, and my partner (Jack), who was a local, kept looking back at me and sushing me. So I released the suspenders on my bibs and now was running full out in my cotton socks and longjohns with the bulls horns knocking trees and makeing a heck of a racket. Never did catch up to him. After walking back and collecting my bibs and boots I sat down and started getting dressed. Jack turns and looks at me and says, &quot;man, I sure hope none of my freinds drive by right now&quot;! Imagine trying to explain standing over a half dressed American putting his clothes back on, 10 miles out in the bush.<img src=icon_smile_shock.gif border=0 align=middle><img src=icon_smile_blush.gif border=0 align=middle>

Edited by - nub on 12/07/2002 21:35:06