Moose hunting in Newfoundland - 2026: Family, friends, and one very successful hunt

There are a few things that make a trip back to Newfoundland worthwhile. Family, friends, a few drinks, some good food, and spending time in the woods. Throw in a moose hunt, a surprise visit for Dad, and six guys sharing a cabin for a week, and you've got yourself a pretty good vacation.

The plan was simple enough. Fly into Newfoundland on October 8th, spend a couple of days at my brother Mike's place, and then head across the island for a week of moose hunting near Badger with Dad, Mike, Ken (my brother inlaw (Sonya)), Glenn and Tony.

There was just one little detail, Dad and Ken (and mom and Sonya) didn't know I was coming and somehow, we'd managed to keep it that way.

Thursday, October 8 - Back on the Rock

I left Ottawa on Thursday, October 8, and flew into St. John's that evening, where my brother was waiting to pick me up.

I spent Thursday night and Friday at his place with a special guest before we headed out for the hunt on Saturday morning.

It was nice to be back in Newfoundland, but I was really looking forward to getting out into the woods. Getting to do it with Dad and Mike made it even better.

Now we just had to pull off the surprise.

Saturday, October 10 - Surprise, Dad!

Saturday morning started at 8:00 a.m. when we left Mike's place with two trucks loaded up for the trip. Mike and Tony were in one truck, while Glenn and I were in the other, towing an ATV behind us.

Our first stop was Whitbourne, where we were meeting Dad and Ken at 9:00 a.m. They had another trailer with an ATV, plus a third ATV loaded in the bed of one of the trucks.

And, of course, they had absolutely no idea I was going to be there. When we pulled up, Dad looked over and figured I was Glenn's son. It took him a few seconds before everything started to register. Nope, Dad. It's me.

Surprise!

After the initial confusion and surprise, we had ourselves a proper little reunion in a parking lot in Whitbourne. Not exactly a fancy location for a family reunion, but it worked.

With everyone accounted for, three ATVs, two trailers, the trucks, and enough gear to make you wonder if we were going hunting or moving permanently into the woods, we headed west toward Badger.

We arrived at our rented cabin around 1:30 p.m. and before we even got settled, Glenn and I had front-row seats from the truck to Ken attempting to back up the ATV trailer. Left, right, forward, backward, repeat. At one point, I think he was trying to parallel park it in the woods. We didn't offer to help, of course. We were too busy laughing. Pretty sure the moose could've backed it in faster. Ken had provided the first entertainment of the week. Best part? It didn't cost us a cent.

After that first memorable moment we unloaded everything, got ourselves settled, and decided there was still enough daylight left to head out for a quick scouting trip.

The weather wasn't exactly cooperating. It was cold and wet at times, but we weren't going to let a little Newfoundland weather stop us and it didn't take long before things got interesting. Within about 30 minutes of heading out, we spotted our first moose, a small cow. Not exactly what we were looking to take on the first day, but it was certainly encouraging. Shortly afterward, we spotted a large bull, but unfortunately, he was too far away.

Still, two moose spotted within our first scouting session wasn't a bad start.

We made our way back to camp as the sun was going down, with a few ideas about where we'd head the next morning. Mike fired up some burgers and fries for supper, we had a few drinks, talked about the day's sightings, and made our plans for Sunday.

No moose, but we'd already seen two, surprised Dad, and made it to camp in one piece.

Day one, I'd call that a success.

Sunday, October 11 - The first full day

The alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. Apparently, moose don't believe in sleeping in, which meant neither did we.

By 6:30 a.m., we were loaded up and heading down the trails, hoping to be in position and ready to hunt at sunrise.

We had three ATVs between the six of us. I was driving with Mike on the back, Ken was driving with Dad on the back, and Glenn was driving with Tony.

We spent the day exploring the trails, searching for signs of moose, and trying our luck with a few calls. Unfortunately, the moose weren't particularly interested in making an appearance. We did manage to spot a caribou, which was pretty cool, but apparently nobody had told him we were hunting moose. Wrong animal, buddy. Nice of you to stop by, though.

We called. We waited. We searched.

Nothing

But if there's one thing I learned about Newfoundland moose hunting, it's that the actual hunting is only part of the experience. The other part is the boil-up and we had ourselves an excellent one.

Out in the woods, we stopped and cooked up some Mr. Noodles, followed by beans and wieners (beaners), and finished things off with some sweets and a good cup of tea with all three done in the same Mr. Noodles cup.

We continued hunting throughout the afternoon, but despite our efforts, we didn't see anything. By the time the sun was setting, we were making our way back to camp.

Glenn took over supper duties and cooked up a fantastic meal of steaks and baked potatoes. After supper, we settled in for a few drinks, some games of cards, and the usual discussion about where we should hunt the next morning.

Monday was Thanksgiving and apparently, the moose weren't planning on giving us anything to be thankful for just yet.

Monday, October 12 - A very Newfoundland Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving morning started much like Sunday. Up early, get dressed, load the gear, and head out in time for sunrise. There was just one small problem, the weather. It was cold, wet, and raining and not just a little rain, at times, it was absolutely pouring.

We headed out anyway because apparently sitting on an ATV in the pouring rain while looking for an animal that doesn't particularly want to be found is considered a vacation.

By around 11:00 a.m., Dad and Ken had decided they'd had enough and headed back to the cabin. The rest of us continued hunting and scouting out potential locations for the following day.

By the time we finally returned to camp around 2:00 p.m., I was absolutely soaked to the bone and freezing cold. There wasn't a dry piece of clothing left on me and a hot shower never felt so good. With the weather still miserable, the afternoon turned into a much more relaxing one around camp and since it was Thanksgiving, Glenn had something considerably better planned for supper than another round of Mr. Noodles.

A full turkey dinner.

Turkey, all the fixings, and six hungry guys who'd spent the morning out in the cold and rain, it was fantastic.

We filled our bellies, enjoyed the evening, and started talking about our plan of attack for Tuesday. We had a few locations in mind, including one we'd scouted the previous afternoon and little did we know, Tuesday was going to be a considerably more eventful day.

And just to keep things interesting, Mother Nature decided to finish off Thanksgiving with a heavy snowfall. Apparently, getting soaked to the bone all morning wasn't enough.

Tuesday, October 13 - The day everything came together

Tuesday morning started with a slightly different plan and a whole lot colder weather. We woke up to snow on the ground, a temperature of -2°C, and a wind chill making it feel more like -10°C. Nothing quite like a Newfoundland October morning to remind you that winter doesn't bother waiting for an invitation. Mike and Ken bundled up and headed out early to a location we'd scouted the previous day.

The idea was for them to take an ATV to the base of a hill, then walk up to the top and get themselves into position. The rest of us would leave about an hour later, giving them some quiet time in the woods during the early daylight hours before we arrived.

It sounded like a pretty good plan and then we met Officer Warren.

A little chat with conservation

The four of us were making our way toward Mike and Ken when we were stopped by a Newfoundland conservation officer, Officer Warren.

Now, none of the four of us had hunting licences or firearms with us, so there wasn't an issue with us actively hunting. However, Officer Warren pointed out one little detail we'd overlooked.

Helmets.

More specifically, the fact that none of us were wearing one while riding the ATVs. Oops. He spent some time talking with us, asking questions, and making sure all our stories lined up. Thankfully, after hearing us out, he decided to let us off with a warning. Which was a good thing, considering the tickets could have been $350 each. That's $1,400 in potential fines between the four of us. Not exactly the kind of Newfoundland souvenir I was hoping to bring home.

Once we'd established what we were doing, we got chatting with Officer Warren about the area and this turned out to be one of the more useful conversations of the trip.

He explained that the area we'd been hunting was heavily hunted and had a significant problem with poaching. He also gave us some suggestions about other locations worth checking out and areas we should avoid.

We thanked him for the advice, continued up the hill to meet Mike and Ken, and shared what we'd learned. It was time for a change of plans.

Twenty-four kilometres into the woods

We packed up our gear, loaded onto the ATVs, and headed off toward one of the areas Officer Warren had suggested.

The route took us approximately 24 kilometres down a logging road, eventually reaching the end of the road and since we'd already travelled that far into the woods, there was only one sensible thing to do, have another boil-up.

We stopped for an hour or two, got ourselves comfortable, and prepared another feast of Mr. Noodles, beaners, and tea.

I'm starting to think the real purpose of this trip was to see how many different places in the Newfoundland wilderness we could eat Mr. Noodles and beaners. After lunch, we started making our way back along the logging road.

The plan was to stop at a few promising spots and hunt along the way and that's when everything changed.

2:45 p.m. - One shot

As we made our way down the logging road, Mike told me to stop near a cut-out leading onto a boggy trail. He and Tony got off and headed down the trail on foot.

Ken and Glenn went back approximately a kilometre to try some moose calling, while Dad headed farther up the road to walk around and scout out the area. I stayed behind at the entrance to the trail. Everyone was spread out, doing their own thing, and I was keeping an eye on the woods.

Then, at exactly 2:45 p.m., I started hearing squirrels making a racket. Now, I don't claim to be an expert in squirrel communication, but something had them worked up. I started wondering if there might be a moose moving through the woods nearby. So I stood up and started getting my camera ready and that's when I heard it.

BANG!

One gunshot. I stopped and listened. Nothing. No second shot.

Just silence.

Immediately, I figured one of two things had happened. Either Mike had taken a shot and dropped a moose, or he'd hit one and was now trying to track it down.

I waited.

Eventually, Ken and Glenn made their way back, and I asked if they'd heard the shot and they hadn't and it definitely wasn't either of them. Ken headed up the road to get Dad.

Mike and Tony were whistling for us to come in with the ATVs.

Speaking of Tony, I can't leave out another memorable moment of the trip. At some point in the woods, nature called, and Tony answered. Unfortunately, he hadn't brought any toilet paper, so his T-shirt made the ultimate sacrifice. We went into the woods looking for a moose, and Tony managed to bag a number two. The moose wasn't the only thing getting dressed in the woods that day.

But the moose was down!

After three days of searching, calling, scouting, getting soaked in the rain, and eating what was probably an unreasonable amount of Mr. Noodles and beaners (beans and weiners), we'd finally gotten one. A big ol' cow moose.

The easy part was over

When we arrived, there she was, the moose. Of course, the first order of business wasn't getting to work, it was taking pictures, lots of pictures.

Pictures with everyone together, pictures with different combinations of us, and probably enough photographs to make you wonder if we'd gone hunting or were putting together a family photo album, but that's part of it. We were all there together, we'd had a successful hunt, and we wanted to remember it.

Location:

Once the photo session was finished, it was time for the actual work and fortunately, we caught a bit of a break. The moose had gone down relatively close to the trail. Anyone who's ever had to haul a moose out of the Newfoundland woods will appreciate just how important that little detail is.

We field-dressed her beside the trail and I done a bit of first aid on Ken after he cut his finger, always handy to carry a first aid kit. Then we started figuring out how to get everything loaded. Between the six of us, three ATVs, all our gear, and one very large moose, there was a bit of organizing to do. Eventually, we had everything loaded and secured, and we started making our way out of the woods.

Back to camp.

38.2 kilometres away.

Now, 38.2 kilometres doesn't sound like much when you're driving down a highway in a comfortable truck, but when you're travelling through the Newfoundland backcountry on ATVs, loaded down with gear and a moose, it's a slightly different experience. Still, we made it.

Moose recovered, everyone accounted for, and a successful hunt behind us. Not a bad Tuesday.

A celebration worth staying up for

Once we got back to camp, the first order of business was a hot shower.

After a full day in the woods, a long ATV ride, and all the work involved in getting the moose out, I don't think anyone needed much convincing and then it was time to celebrate. We'd done it.

Mike had gotten his moose, we'd managed to get her out of the woods, and the six of us were back at camp with a pretty good story to tell.

The drinks came out, the stories started flowing, and I'm sure the events of the day got retold a few times and a few more times after that. Before we knew it, it was 2:00 a.m.

Not exactly ideal when you've been getting up at 5:00 a.m. for the past few days, but there wasn't much reason to worry about getting up early to hunt anymore.

We'd accomplished what we'd come to do and we were going to enjoy it.

Wednesday, October 14 - The day after

Wednesday was a considerably slower day around camp. For some reason, nobody seemed particularly interested in getting up at 5:00 a.m, well maybe some and can't imagine why.

There may have been a few sore heads among the group after the previous night's celebrations, but we still had some work to do.

The moose needed to be skinned and cleaned up, and we also had to start getting the cabin organized before heading out the following morning.

So we spent part of the day taking care of the moose, cleaning up around camp, and getting things ready for the trip back. Compared to the previous few days, though, it was pretty relaxing.

While we were cleaning up the moose meat back at camp, a few grey jays showed up looking for a free meal, happily picking away at the scraps. Apparently, word had gotten around that the buffet was open. At least somebody appreciated Mike's butchering skills.

No early morning ATV rides, no sitting in the pouring rain, no wandering around the woods wondering where all the moose had gone.

Just a quiet day at camp, a bit of work, and some well-earned downtime and maybe a few people questioning whether staying up until 2:00 a.m. had been such a brilliant idea.

Thursday, October 15 - Heading Back to Islington

Thursday morning meant it was time to pack up and say goodbye to the moose camp. We finished cleaning the cabin, wrapped the moose meat in cheesecloth, and loaded up the trucks, trailers, ATVs, and what seemed like half the contents of the cabin. By 8:00 a.m., we were back on the road, heading toward Islington.

After several days of early mornings, freezing temperatures, rain, snow, countless kilometres on the ATVs, and enough Mr. Noodles to feed a small village, our hunting adventure was officially coming to an end. But we still had a few things to look forward to.

We made a stop at the Irving Big Stop in Goobies for lunch, because apparently six guys who'd spent the week eating everything in sight still needed another meal. With our bellies full, we continued on through the RDF (rain, drizzle and fog) and finally arrived in Islington around 2:00 p.m.

Our first stop was Mom and Dad's place, where I finally got to see Mom for the first time since arriving back in Newfoundland. And in true Newfoundland fashion, Mom was getting a nice meal ready for everyone. Fried cod, homemade fries, and coleslaw. After a week of camp cooking, it was pretty hard to beat a proper feed of fish and chips from Mom. Not that we hadn't been eating well all week, but there's something about Mom's cooking that just hits differently.

Later that evening, we headed over to Sonya and Ken's place to relax and watch the Leafs game in the shed. A few hours of hockey, some good company, and thankfully no more ATV rides through freezing rain. Eventually, I called it a night and headed back to mom and dad's and off to bed.

And while the hunting was finished, the work certainly wasn't.

Friday, October 16 - Butchering day: Moose meets freezer

Newfoundland wouldn't be Newfoundland without cold mornings and high winds, and Friday was certainly no exception. The wind was howling, the air was chilly, and we had a full day of work ahead of us.

But before any of that could start, something happened and I'm still not entirely sure what was more surprising, shooting a moose earlier in the week or Sonya getting up and cooking breakfast for everyone. Either way, we weren't about to complain. We filled our bellies and got ready for the day's main event.

By 10:00 a.m., we were out in the shed, which thankfully had a diesel heater keeping things nice and warm. Considering the weather outside, that heater was probably the most appreciated piece of equipment we had all day.

Now came the real work.

With quarters weighing around 75 pounds each, we had our work cut out for us. Everyone had a jobs, cutting, trimming, cleaning and eventually some mincing, and packaging.

Between us all we had a pretty good assembly line. There was no shortage of laughs, questionable advice, and the occasional disagreement about the best way to do something. By 5:30 p.m., we'd finally finished. Seven and a half hours of work, a freezer full of moose, and probably a few sore backs to show for it.

For supper, we were treated to another fantastic meal of ham and scalloped potatoes. After spending the entire day working alongside Dad, Mike, and the rest of the crew, it was nice to sit down, relax, and enjoy another home-cooked meal. Some might say finger or plate licking good, I'd call it pan licking good.

The evening turned into a classic Newfoundland shed party. Mom, Dad, Mike, Ken, Sonya, and the rest of the gang enjoying a few drinks, with friends and family dropping by throughout the night. There was plenty of laughter, a little friendly tormenting, and more hunting stories than anyone could possibly keep track of.

The moose got bigger every time someone told the story, the distance of the shot gets longer, and somehow everyone was personally responsible for the successful hunt and naturally, we all were.

Getting everyone together, sharing a few laughs, and making some new memories was worth the trip alone.

More than just a moose hunt

As I look back with a couple of days to spend with family before I head home to Ottawa to my family, the moose was obviously a big part of the trip, but it wasn't the only reason I went.

Getting to surprise Dad in Whitbourne was something I'll remember for a long time. Spending a week with him, Mike, Ken, Glenn, and Tony was just as important as anything that happened out in the woods.

There were the early mornings, the cold rain, the ATV rides, the hours spent searching, the boil-ups, the card games, and the meals back at camp and then there was Tuesday afternoon.

One gunshot at 2:45 p.m., followed by a whole lot of work and a celebration that lasted until 2:00 in the morning. Not a bad way to spend Thanksgiving week in Newfoundland.

I've lived in Ontario for a long time now, but trips like this are a good reminder of why Newfoundland will always feel like home.

Sometimes all it takes is a few days in the woods, some family, a couple of friends, and a pot of Mr. Noodles cooked over a fire. Oh, and a moose, that certainly helps.

This might have been a boring story for some but for the six of us, it's memories for a lifetime. 🫎