Yukon bush life

We are now lowing in earnest like flirtatious lady moose and have progressed from practising indoors with the aid of YouTube videos, like some weird bush karaoke, to bellowing from the porch with the aid of our moose bugle. We have fashioned the bugle in traditional style from birch bark and duct tape and are interspersing our “lonely lady” calls with huffing “I’ve got a girlie here” male calls with the aim of making any wandering bulls think there’s a gorgeous cloven hoofed gal on the porch but some other bastard’s got there before him.  Moose bugle enhances the sound and doesn't make you look stupid at all We are calling morning and evening, from the porch and the river, with the aim of getting a bull right up into the yard and preferably into the hanging rack so we don’t have to move him far if we get him.  Anyone who wants to join in go to the links at the bottom and sing-along-a-sounda-horny-moose with us. We’re also thrashing brush with an old scapula bone to mimic

(Lou, Yukon) Our journey home was packed with more firsts than anyone should reasonably be expected to cope with in one day. First time towing the boat over a rocky beach, first time ever launching a boat, first turn of the key on the engine, first time driving a boat up the Yukon alone. First time landing the bloody thing, testing our guns, seeing our property covered in matted brush and willow instead of snow and best of all, first time for us to arrive back at the place we left in the spring with all our things and a ready-made wood pile!  With no place of our own previously, we’ve had to move each year so this is the first autumn we had the joy of coming “home.”  Trailer troubles Things went remarkably well, our only fuck up being reversing the trailer into the river at 90 degrees, forgetting about the Yukon River’s tremendous 7mph current which instantly swept the boat off taking the trailer lights with it.  We made it to our place without mishap, sp