Always a few weeks behind the elk, moose are beginning their own fall rituals and as with the elk, this begins with the shedding of the antler velvet. There is no better “first sign” of the turning of the seasons, as the shed typically takes place weeks before the first leaves begin to show their fall colors.

The Peak to Peak region is home to the largest moose population on the eastern slope, and we have all become accustomed to their presence, whether it be out on a back yard trail, or simply blocking the driveway preventing the daily commute to work. This time of year, like most ungulates, they begin to make their way down from the high country sans velvet, with antlers in full, bare display, ready for action as the rut season has them vying for their chance to mate and carry on their lineage.

A few years ago I was up in the local moose mecca that is Brainard Lake when I happened upon a peculiar sight. I had headed up to see if I might catch a bit of action as the bulls had recently shed, and while early, I held hopes of at least a bit of sparring as they prepared for the rut. Upon my arrival there were five moose of varying ages and sizes taking their graze in the willows near the lake as they are wont to do. As I sat and enjoyed their presence, my eye was caught by movement in the trees beyond the willows, and as I watched, this stunning old spirit of the forest emerged.

While I have enjoyed my fair share of moose, this one was quite unique in his own distinguished way, as his antlers were noticeably different from the standard paddles we see on these giant neighbors. He was decently larger than the rest of the bachelor herd, and he kept to himself, which often signifies a greater age, but I learned later that it was the antlers themselves that gave him away as a “Grandfather” of the area.

When bulls begin to pass their prime they retain their grand stature, but with each passing year their antlers begin to transform. The iconic paddles that denote a moose so very well begin to diminish and they begin to grow racks with more defined tines, similar to an elk or smaller member of the deer family. I didn’t realize at the moment, but I was being gifted the esteemed company of likely one of the eldest bulls living in the area at the time.

As I took in his presence, the other bulls seemed to respectfully give him his space. After a while, two even began to spar a bit, but Grandpa kept to himself. His great stature alone seemed to keep the smaller, younger bulls at bay. He also likely bowed out knowing full well that while he was quite a bit larger than the others, he was well past his days of battle and preferred to expend his energy munching on the willows and watching the youngsters play their games. At one point the two second largest bulls made their way towards him and grazed a while with him, but aside from a few casual grunts, eventually meandered back to the youngest leaving Grandpa to enjoy his meal in peace.

In my experiences with bachelor herds like this, they seem to be familial groupings representing multiple generations of the same lineage. With this in mind, it was quite an honor to see such a grand lineage played out before me, with likely five generations or more represented in the evening meal. It is moments like these that keep me returning to the wilds, camera in tow, taking in the stunning yet simple displays of this grand thing we call life in nature!

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