Ep. 511: This Country Life - News We Can Use

Brent Reeves (0:05)

Welcome to This Country Life, I'm your host, Brent Reeves. From coon hunting to trot lining and just general country living, I want you to stay a while as I share my experiences and life lessons. This Country Life is presented by Case Knives from the Stor-Mor Studio on MeatEater's Podcast Network, bringing you the best outdoor podcasts that airways have to offer. All right, friends, grab a chair or drop that tailgate. I've got some stories to share.

News we can use. There's not a lot of introduction that's needed for this episode. We're going to get right into it when we start, and it's all pretty self-explanatory. So without any further ado, join me at the fire and let's get started.

A year ago this week, I received a story submission from the great state of Vermont. Now, outside of being in basic training with a fellow from Vermont, way back in the 1900s, I really don't know anything about that state except of how pretty it is. But the pictures that his momma sent him, I thought were postcards. The leaves were on full display in the fall of 1987, and what I was seeing in the photos of a small town with Victorian-looking architecture looked like the beginning of a Hallmark Christmas movie. It was beautiful, and it didn't even look real.

Since then, I've been all over this continent, especially the last few years, but never have I had the opportunity to visit the Green Mountain State. I'm ashamed to say that if given a US map of only borders and no names, I'd give myself one in five chances of picking it out. So I Googled a blank map challenge quiz, and believe it or not, I got it on the first guess. Feeling confident and way smarter than I thought, I proceeded to misidentify Delaware so many times, the test suggested I turn in my passport. The point is that I haven't done much rambling up in that part of this country and I ought to fix that. Anyway, when Vermont homesteader Brad Roy sent me this story in October of 2025, I read it, thoroughly enjoyed it, and filed it away to use later. Well, now, it is later.

Brad mentions the story taking place in a portion of the state known as the Northeast Kingdom, a term I was completely unfamiliar with, but intrigued by its origins. The Northeast Kingdom is a rural, heavily forested region in the northeastern corner of Vermont that covers like 2,000 square miles across Essex, Orleans, and Caledonia counties. It was given its name by Vermont senator and former governor George Aiken in 1949 Anyway, I found the story intriguing somewhat for the game animal pursuit. Hunting a moose was completely foreign to me until last year when I was in northern Manitoba chasing them myself. No, the moose was only part of it. My favorite thing was the community around that he acknowledged with a heartfelt gratitude, but added mostly anecdotally, which is exactly how it should have been acknowledged. More of my thoughts on what I mean specifically about that once we're done. So here it is, the words of Middlesex, Vermont native Brad Roy and my voice.

Deep belly giggles erupted from the back seat of my truck as my two-year-old son wriggled with joy and amusement at what he had just heard. I felt slightly embarrassed that my practice attempt to sound like a sweet and lonely cow moose in search of a studly lover to keep her company was so funny to him. But then again, neither of us really knew what we were doing. With only a handful of days left before the Vermont 2024 moose season opener, I was pulling out all the stops in preparation. Alongside hours of scouting, hundreds, maybe over a thousand miles put on my pickup truck and suddenly justifying gear purchases to myself that I had put off for the past few years. One key area of prep for this newly minted moose hunter was an exhausting amount of practice in cowcalling. After all, it works on YouTube all the time. So what better way to pass the time riding home from the daycare than belting out cowcalls and bull grunts to my impatient toddler in the backseat? The Vermont Moose Hunt is arguably the most sought after crown jewel of what these green mountains have to offer to sportsmen and women. And after a 17-year hiatus from my father drawing a permit in 2007, we once again were on deck to pursue our very own monstrous semi-aquatic ungulate. Now during the old seven hunt, I was fortunate enough to be named as my father's sub-permitee. In Vermont, a Moose permit winner can designate a sub-permitee, which is a second hunter to accompany them and participate in the harvest. After a few days of dawn-to-dusk hunting, I decided I needed a mid-day break to fuel up and take a quick nap. And I vividly remember the sound of my father's rifle ringing through the valley mere minutes after I left his side when he happened to cross a young bull. I promised myself after that moment that should we ever get the good fortune to draw a tag again, my desire to hunt down snacks and a nap would not interrupt my hunt for a moose. The time for redemption began early on a morning in October of 2024