We Do Not Remember Days: We Remember Moments

This moment. Not my favorite bull moose image from my trip—but this was the moment I won’t soon forget.

Jasper National Park had long been on my list of dream destinations, a place where untamed wilderness meets breathtaking mountain vistas. The towering peaks, dusted with early snow, reflected in crystal-clear lakes, and the crisp autumn air carried the scent of pine and earth. I had envisioned this trip as an opportunity to witness the rugged beauty of the backcountry, to explore the valleys where mist clings to the riverbanks at dawn, and—above all—to capture a magnificent bull moose in his element.

I am a geek, and I’ll be the first to admit it! I’ve always been fascinated by wilderness survival reality shows, especially those set in Alaska. Over the years, I’ve absorbed every bit of knowledge I could from them, often wondering if I’d ever get the chance to apply any of it. This trip turned out to be that chance.

Throughout my days in Jasper, I kept crossing paths with cow moose, their massive frames moving silently through the brush, but the bulls remained elusive. It was rut season, and I knew one had to be nearby—I just hadn’t been lucky enough to spot one. Then, early one morning, I stumbled upon yet another cow. The disappointment set in, but something told me not to give up. Standing alone in the stillness of the wilderness, I decided to try something bold.

Since no one was around to witness my potential embarrassment, I attempted a bull moose call—the very technique I had picked up from my countless hours of survival show binge-watching. I cupped my hands, took a deep breath, and let out the call. The sound echoed through the trees, and for a brief moment, all was silent. Then, suddenly, the underbrush rustled, and through the thick forest, he emerged—a massive bull, his antlers stretching wide.

I was so flippin’ excited that I nearly forgot to lift my camera! The adrenaline, the thrill, the sheer joy of watching him step into the open—it was overwhelming. In that moment, standing amidst the towering peaks of Jasper, I adjusted my imaginary crown and embraced my title: Queen of Geeks.

This wasn’t just about photography anymore. It was about connection—feeling one with the wild, understanding the language of nature, and reveling in the magic of the moment. Jasper had given me more than just a photo; it had given me an experience that I would carry with me forever.