One morning, as I drove about 5 miles from the Whitefield airport, I encountered a huge bull moose on the dead run towards the airport. He looked really pissed, it was rut season.
I proceeded to the airport to see if George Graber was up to his old tricks again.
George was a retired airline pilot and retired moose hunting guide. He flew a small plane out of the Whitefield airport for fun.
A few minutes before I saw the moose, he had spotted it from the air, landed, and bet some guys around the hangar he could call it in.
A few minutes after I arrived, the big bull came crashing through the woods, heading strait for the hangar, snorting and pawing.
We all ducked inside for safety.
After trapping us in the hangar for a half an hour or so, the moose left.
These days, George is in that great hangar in the sky.
I used to enjoy taking him for rides in our Unimog on obscure roads he knew about and getting him talking about his old guideing days.
You have a unimog? Cool!