Sun's Emily on a hunt
I WENT on a Sarah Palin-style moose hunt – and it’s no walk in the park.
I had stocked up on warm clothing, sturdy walking boots and an outdoorsy hat in a bid to emulate the woman dedicated to huntin’, shootin’ and fishin’.
A moose hunt starts at 5.30am, two hours before dawn. We power out of town and into the forest on quad bikes, the same models used by Sarah.
Top gun ... our Emily
We roar through the darkness with rain lashing down and hustle up the mountainside through pools of mud.
Twice I’m nearly thrown off the bike as mud splatters in my face and I swerve to avoid tree stumps and bushes.
I can’t help but think: “I bet Sarah Palin does this in lipstick.”
I’m hunting for moose with the help of guides Thomas Agoney, 37, and Shawn Meiller, 31 – both lifelong hunters – and we are out on the side of Baldy mountain overlooking Wassila 15 miles below.
As dawn breaks we dismount and push up through fields of dark red fireweed, alder trees, cottonwood and pine.
Thomas tells me: “Don’t look down, keep looking up. Everything that can hurt you around here is big.” But it’s already too late. I look down and see an enormous bear paw print squelched in the mud.
I want to run for the hills but I notice the track we are FOLLOWING is a bear’s.
Thomas says casually: “That’s a big bear, probably about 800lb. But don’t worry about it. He’s not going to hurt you unless you surprise him while he’s feasting on some food.”
This is not much of a consolation.
We speed off in the other direction in search of moose, with Thomas’s Ruger 300 rifle strapped to the front of his bike.
Lookout ... Emily
Thomas says: “Sarah Palin is a pretty good hunter and this is the best place for it. You can hunt on the snow machine in winter and the ATV (all terrain vehicle) in the summer.
“I wouldn’t live anywhere else, Alaska is the last great frontier.”
We are now speeding away from the bear tracks but as I bump along I worry that just one small crash would make me a bear’s breakfast.
After I’m nearly thrown off the bike for the umpteenth time we spot a moose far in the distance, among a clump of bushes. The sight seems majestic and peaceful at the same time – apart from the sound of Thomas dashing over with his binoculars and gun.
But we are too late, the moose gets away.
I can’t help but feel relieved that we don’t have to shoot him.
It all adds up to one conclusion – I’m just not as tough as the “pitbull in lipstick”.