Train Wreck of a Day
“Five…four…three….two…one….GO!”. My first hour P.E. class blasted off the starting line like they were shot from cannons. It was cardio day and the workout affectionately known as SIXES was under way.
I hustled over to the dangling audio jack to pipe in some Pandora radio to keep my students pumped. Just as I reached for the cord to connect it to my phone, it rang. “Who could possibly be calling me at 8:45 AM on a Thursday?”, I thought. “Hello?” I said.
“Hi is this Steve Harrison?”
“Yes.”
“I see here that you are signed up for the road kill list and we have a moose down in your area.” It was Trooper dispatch. “It was hit by the train.” Just then a few of my students whizzed by as I stood there dumbfounded with my phone to my ear.
“Oh really?” My heart sunk a little. I’ve been burned by accepting train kill moose before. On three separate occasions I accepted road-kill moose calls that turned out to be train kills and it wasn’t a good deal, or fun. When a car hits a moose it’s typically a glancing blow and damage is minimum. When a train runs over a moose it can be, well, horrific. All three train kill moose I’ve dealt with were unsalvageable. On one such occasion as I pulled over at the railroad crossing, I couldn’t help but notice the dozen or so bald eagles perched high atop nearby trees. Lower down in the branches were the magpies and the ravens were interspersed all waiting their turn in the grand pecking order. As I opened the truck door, the waft of a fully gut-blown moose overcame me. I will spare the gentle reader at least some of the gory details but I will say that I have never, in my life seen such a grotesquely bloated mess. It was obvious to me that the moose had been dead for several days and it had been hit with such force that the guts had blown apart affectively releasing gallons of digestive enzymes to begin their work on the moose from the inside out. Luckily for me, I accepted it, sight unseen over the phone and was therefore committed. Sweet.
“Can you tell me anything about the condition of the moose?”, I asked.
“No sir, I’m sorry.” Pause. I was scrambling to gather as much information as I could because I knew that once you accept a roadkill you are responsible for its proper disposal whether or not any of the meat is salvageable.
“If I don’t take this moose, will I be put back to the bottom of the list?”
“I’m afraid so sir.”
“Okay, I’ll take it.”
The Moose Club at SuValley is into its sixth year. Each winter we accept roadkill moose and teach students how to process a moose from skinning to packaging. In 2010, we were fortunate to receive funding from the Talkeenta, and Sunshine Community councils through the revenue sharing program. We were able to purchase all of the commercial grade equipment needed to process meat including a grinder, vacuum packer, sausage mixer, and all of the consumables that go with it. In addition we built a processing shed. We got the lumber and all building materials at cost from Moore’s hardware. Our shop class, taught by Bryan Kirby built a nice moose butchering shed complete with lots of outlets, great lighting and heat. Also we were able to buy a second hand two-place snow machine trailer that we rigged with a winch. We built a custom moose-sled out of UHMW plastic that allows us to drag the moose onto the trailer with ease.
So with renewed purpose and a distinct change in the direction of my day, I made arrangements and took off from school to go pick-up the moose. I met my partner in crime at the railroad crossing. “Hi dad.”
“Howdie....hey it’s a legal bull!” Sure enough the moose had three brow tines which meets the criteria for the general harvest in our game unit. And as luck would have it this one was in decent shape. The three year old bull which measured in at a mere 39 inches was odorless and the digestive cavity was intact. Yes! I would find out later that we would lose one front quarter for sure but there was plenty of good salvageable meat.
After wedging the black sled under it’s head and shoulders we winched the moose onto the sled and then up onto the tilt trailer. We found a suitable pull-off to dump the guts and set about gutting it. We pulled the hind leg as high as we could and tied it off to a thick willow bush. After making a few key incisions inside the rib cavity the guts came free and slid neatly down the black sled and off the trailer as if by design.
 |
| Steve sr. is pulling the pin on the tilt trailer so the guts and blood will slip-slide down and away from the carcass and trailer. No blood touches the trailer. |
By noon four of my veteran, go-to moose clubbers Branden Bettis, Stashia Leonard, Wade Griffin, and Kodiak Olsen were busy skinning the moose. My part of the work, essentially done would now be to direct traffic, answer questions and supervise. From here on out the kids do all the work.
 |
| From left to right: Stashia, Kodiak, and Wade skinning the moose while my sixth grade students look on. |
