My grandkids recently came to Northern Utah for a week of outdoor fun and adventure. Unfortunately, neither of them was very interested in fly fishing or, as they would say, even fishing fly. They are teenagers. They are not used to spending extended periods of time outdoors or hanging out in a yurt. So I shelved any expectations of fly fishing and asked them to help mount a motion-activated camera near a wildlife watering hole above Bear Lake. They got excited about the idea and the hike, so my wife and I got them geared up and the four of us made our journey to the watering hole early in the evening before most of the game animals began moving around.
As we neared the watering hole from the north (and as the kids were watching where they placed their feet among the sagebrush to avoid stepping on any snakes), I quietly and firmly told them to stop. “Stop! Stop!” I whispered. I had spotted a cow moose and her juvenile calf coming down the mountain from the west about 100 yards away, moving toward the water.
The cow spotted us (of course); we stayed stationary while she looked us over. All three adults with their respective teenagers were about the same distance from the watering hole. After a brief pause, the moose’s teen ambled down to the water and began drinking. She followed behind, stopping every few steps to look at us. She finally made it to the watering hole and, as though her arrival was a sign of permission, her teenager flopped down into the watering hole and began rolling on his back in the water.
My grandkids wanted to get closer. So I told them to slowly make their way toward a bush that was on a tangent to the watering hole so we would not be approaching them directly. “When the mom lowers her head to drink, take 2 or 3 steps and stop,” I instructed.
We waited patiently until she began drinking and then moved about 3 yards. We paused. She raised her head and looked at us. We waited for about 20 or 30 seconds for her next drink. She lowered her head and we moved another few steps and stopped. We repeated this slow approach another five or six times to arrive at the bush that was about 60 yards away from the moose. The mom kept her eye on us, but she and her teen remained calm and stayed at the watering hole.
We were able to watch this rare wildlife encounter for another 10 minutes until my grandson, in a brief fit of teenage energy, spooked the moose and they burst out of the watering hole. We expected them to move into the trees for the night, but they stopped and began feeding on grass near an aspen grove about 75 yards from us. Mom kept looking at us as they grazed their way up the mountain into the grove of aspen.
Yes, I would have enjoyed fly fishing with my grandkids. But sometimes it’s not about the fish. My wife and grandkids and I had a far richer and more memorable experience with the moose than if we had caught another fish. 
The Nekid Fisherman
The Nekid Fisherman is ramblings from one of the owners of Round Rocks fly fishing. We believe that at this time, he has spent so much time on the edge of the river, he has lost his mind .... and his clothes.

www.RoundRocks.com
This article was recently published in Business 2 Business magazine featuring the Nekid Fisherman