This is a confession of a stalker. I have stalked him for years, well, actually, since I first saw his curious silhouette in 1991, black on Vermont D.O.T. yellow signage, with the dialogue “Warning. Next Two Miles.” 
I should back up and declare “just the facts ma’am,” (or sir). Moose (Alces Alces). His very name conjures up an image, woven in vernacular tradition. Woven into classic Adirondack-Northern summer camp design, along with “Buffalo” plaid, twig furniture and green canoes. In his European range of the Baltic forestland, he is called “Elk,” where his residence in such prolific numbers has prompted Saab Motor Company to engineer cars to withstand Moose crash impact. 
In North America, this lumbering hunk is called Moose--- a Native American name which must translate to “Really big mammal who runs like Bulldozer.” Curious, ungainly, this ton size creature, has an exterior package that seems to have been designed by the most non-communicative Board of Directors, whose only consensus vote was that he had to be ‘BIG!” Really big; with too long of legs, shoulders too high, rump too lean, an endearing camelidae fleshy snout on a huge ski slope of a face, on a too big head, that holds up a humorous attempt at antler design.
Unlike his cousins, the Wapiti- our Western States Elk, the Whitetail Deer, the Mule Deer, Blacktail Deer, which all embody fleet of foot, svelte, elegant of design, Mr. Moose plods along with an awkward two left-foot shuffle, tripping loudly into underbrush, automobile or anything in his path. In the words of Rodney Dangerfield,” he don’t get no respect. ” Comics have pictured him as some mentally challenged sidekick to a talking, flying squirrel. Now the species must contend with being a motor company ‘crash test dummy.’
But, Moose he is. The very icon of wildness, along with the Grizzly Bear, wild Salmon, and the Bald Eagle. His presence is constantly documented in travel ads for adventurelands of Alaska, Canada, Upstate New York, Maine, and, yes, Vermont.
Here lies the question. In the National Geographic book of top 100 wild places to view wildlife, Mr. Moose is only listed a dozen times. Only one of those listings is in Vermont- “The Green Mountain National Forest.” To put my situation in modern terms, B.T.D.T.B.T.T. ( Been There, Done That, Bought The T-shirt). The politically correct Orvis “Moose in a Can T-shirt,” I might add.
Bought the T-shirt, yes, plus a dozen plane tickets, one Amtrak ticket, a total of 8 weeks worth of rental cars, dozens of nights worth of bed and breakfast lodging, a minimum of 120 dining experiences, and contributed to Vermont’s economy more than a resident pays in income tax. Bought Vermont gasoline, Vermont apples, Vermont cheeses, the famous ‘Vermont Crackers,’ Vermont Wildflower seeds, several years worth of ‘VERMONT LIFE’ magazine subscriptions, Vermont maple syrup, gotten addicted to ‘Green Mountain Coffee,’ and ‘Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream,’ taken up Vermont fly-fishing because Orvis made it all seem so cool (but that is another story altogether), and seriously considered becoming a real Vermont resident. All total contributed enough to Vermont to be termed an honorary Vermont resident. Despite this investment of several thousands of dollars, I have not seen one Moose, several Meeses, or if one exists, I have not seen “THE” Moose.
I say “THE” Moose, because I have arrived at the unproved hypothesis that perhaps “ The Vermont Moose” may be a tourist enterprise, in much the mythical manner of “Nessie,” the icon of Loch Ness, Scotland. Yes, I have seen all the signs, not tracking signs. I mean the D.O.T. signs. The ones halfway between Montpelier and Burlington, the ones near the Robert Frost trail, near Mooselamoo (ha, ha) on Highway 25 out from Middlebury, the great signs on the main road between Waterbury and Stowe.
So where is ‘the’ Moose? I inquired at a District Forest Service information center, and was handed a “Moose Watching” pamphlet.
“Saw a Moose, must have been last year, just came down right here,” the information attendant pointed behind her, “ ran to the edge of the road, looked both ways, must have decided not to cross, ran back up they-ah,” she gestured again dismissing my inquiry, “into the woods. I heard there is one up off Highway 25, going towards Middlebury,” she volunteered.
“Still there,” came a male voice from across the lobby, “go back up to the cafe, turn left on 25,. Go till you see ‘the sign.’. ” Wow, he had my number, or my sign, like that country music song- ‘Here’s your sign,....’ 
“You will see where he feeds on the left, before you get to the Robert Frost Trail parking area.” 
That sounded too good to be true, but it wasn’t far out of the way. 
I discovered nothing is out of the way in Vermont. This is why there are rental cars with unlimited mileage. So B.T.D.T. again. No Moose, but I did see ‘the sign-’ the black and yellow D.O.T. sign and some trails in a marshy area that could have been made by a wandering Moose, or by storm blow down. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. 
I wondered though, if the man and woman at the Forest Service building had that script memorized. Perhaps still chuckling over the event.
I inquired in Waterbury, figuring someone there must have seen “him,” if the signs are on the road to Stowe. I was met with the same glass-eyed stare my question provokes everywhere I go as I posed my most casual, “So, seen any good Moose lately?” 
“Oh.” My question must have caught him off guard, as it took the bed and breakfast night clerk a moment to answer. Then he shifted into a seeming well rehearsed dialogue, “I saw one, no two, no it probably was the same Moose I saw, twice in the same day,” he led me right into his conversation, lifted my hopes, only to dash them at my feet again, “but that was five, no seven, years ago. Well I have lived here for fifteen years, that is the only Moose I ever saw,” he told me very New England matter-of- factly. He also offered that I might have better luck if I stayed in one of his comfortable rooms and look for the Moose at daylight, near "the sign," of course. Another man, another town, told me sure, he had seen one. “Saw one walk down Main Street in Woodstock, in the daylight. Just like on that TV show, Naw-then something,” he said, but “Oh, that was about four years ago.” 
Well, I know when someone has gotten my goat, or Moose, so enough is enough. 
I went to the source for information. I inquired at the Vermont Department of Fish and Wildlife.

Their booklet says;

“MOOSE HUNT
A moose hunting season will likely be held in October consistent with
Vermont’s Moose Management Plan. Hunting permits would be issued by lottery.Applications are $10.00 and available in mid-summer.”
That isn’t the State million dollar lottery, however, unlike the ‘other’ lottery, no IRS agent will hammer on your door the day after winning. 
I wondered if a “likely” Moose season is something like a “snipe” hunt. You know- go in the woods with the gunny sack, flashlight, and everyone is “likely” to see one but you. I read all the literature, and admit I admire a state that funds its own progressive wildlife watching agency, with a web site and an e-mail address.
According to John Hall, Vermont Information Specialist, there is an increasing resident Moose population in Vermont of several thousand "Meeses." How do you spell more than one? Enough to justify a Moose Management Plan and support annual restrictive Moose Hunting Seasons. In fact their Moose Management Plan is a model success story of wildlife recovery in New England. 
My personal theory is that “The” Vermont Moose, if there is only one, is groomed, fed, and handled by “Fish and Wildlife” to be hauled to ‘Moose stake outs’ for occasional photo opportunities. I see the “likely” four days in October, “Moose Hunting Season,” follows immediately after peak “Leaf Season. ” 
I quickly calculated the State of Vermont makes enough in revenues, including those from any spouse or non-hunters who accompany the “Moose Hunters, “ to handle and groom ‘the’ moose for multiple photo opportunities and pay for those “signs.” Even if there is nothing more than a mythical Moose, that’s opportunity for a lot of great stories. Moose, any way you look at it, or don’t- in my case, is a great asset to the State of Vermont. 
And what about neighboring Pittsburgh, N.H. which, I hear, hosts its own “Moose Watch Weekend” festival, turning Moose sighting opportunities into a business.
I realize, with great practicality, there are places to go in the U.S. and Canada that guarantee all but the most bumbling hunter, photographer or hiker Moose sightings, but, knowing Moose are “probably in Vermont” is enough for me. Like Trout I pursue, I don’t ever consider a fishing trip a failure if it doesn’t yield fish. I was told once that if it were a sure thing it would be called “catching,” not “fishing.” Consider the journey the prize. And, Moose, like Trout, don’t ever live in ugly places.
Where I live now, they opened a new 250 room “Lodge,” but when I inquired, it seems the Ritz-Carlton people are more concerned about amenities than a resident Moose. I must be mistaken that all proper “Lodges” have a resident Moose.
I’ll be back to Vermont. I heard a tip that I “MUST” visit Moose River Lake Lodge and Store. And, another tidbit from a "Vermont Woodlands" magazine issue, that I must see the ten thousand honking Snow Geese on their fall migration through Vermont. 
And, I heard there are land locked Atlantic Salmon in Vermont “so big you can’t carry them home in a wash tub,” 
hmmmmmm, they set the hook again. Who needs a marketing team for the State, with knowledgeable and friendly Vermont residents passing out such baited tourist tidbits.
Was it a Vermont resident who originated the quote 
“all fishermen are born honest, but the get over it”

Jan Davis is a freelance author, web designer, graphic artist owner of Wild Horse Press. Publisher of http://horsehistory.us a web based magazine. Copyright@2002 jandavis

A special Thank You goes to Jan Davis for bringing us this special tribute to Vermont.