Moose, Grandpa, and Me

Ever since I was a little girl, I heard stories from my Grandpa of the legendary town that he came from in North Dakota - Anamoose. This is the town where he grew up farming with his father, mother, and nine younger siblings, eking out a living in the harsh Dakota climate. The town where he almost burnt down the family's entire barn when hay caught fire from his hand-rolled cigarette, resulting in his never smoking again. The town with the great Anamoose Lake which he ice skated on during the freezes of winter. And the town that was supposedly named after the large female moose that was at that lake when the town was settled.

Well, in 1991 I had the privilege of traveling to Anamoose, ND with my family, Grandpa included. On its way to becoming a ghost town, with a lake that looked more like a giant pond, Anamoose still was a magical place. And how the people there loved Grandpa, carrying with them fond memories of his subtle humor, grand stories, and warm heart.

So it only seemed natural that after Grandpa passed away a few years later, I would feel the need to search out a moose. Call it his spirit animal, or just a strong reminder of who he was, this moose was something I needed to see.

My quest took me to Yellowstone NP in 2005, one of Grandpa's favorite places that he knew like the back of his hand. We had gone there on our trip in 1991, so it was special to be there again, even without him. While I saw plains aplenty with buffalo, a nesting bald eagle tending his young, and many other natural beauties, the majestic moose evaded me. The closest we came to encountering moose was during our canoe trip to the remote southern fingers of Lake Yellowstone. I had purposefully chosen this area for its swampy, hard to reach wilderness that moose loved to roam. To our avail, we only found signs of moose like a giant shed antler and sounds of loud splashing in the lake's edge waters in the middle of the night.

My quest would have to be continued.