To many a Maine hunter, deer season is a tried-and-true, wouldn’t-miss-it opportunity. For them, deer season is anticipated for months, and talked about for the entire winter.

Part of that has to do with tradition: Many grew up heading to the same camp, with the same people, doing the same things. They look forward to reliving that tradition – and building on it – each successive season.

Another part of the equation is its predictability. Deer season is a very simple phenomenon that everyone, save your odd cousin Buford, can figure out.

It happens in November (unless you’re participating in a special season). You don’t even have to mark it on your calendar. All you have to do is dig out your orange clothing, make sure your rifle’s shooting straight, and you’re nearly ready to go.

(OK, OK. Before you write and call me names, I do know better than that. Honest. For instance, I also learned that you’ve got to have a pocket full of beef jerky, a book of matches, and a compass that you know how to read. And a license … and a bunch of other stuff I’m sure I’ll recognize when I pull my gear out of the “hunting closet” in the fall).

Yes, every year, deer season rolls around. Every year, hunters are successful … or aren’t.

And then, there’s moose season. Moose season, of course, is different. You can be the best hunter in the state, speak fluent moose, know exactly where a given bull eats, sleeps, and … well, does all the other stuff … and still never end up bagging one.

Everybody doesn’t get to hunt for moose, you see. First, you’ve got to win the lottery (along with a bunch of other entrants). Then, you’ve got to go buy a bigger freezer … or rent space in your brother’s deep freeze with the promise of a year’s supply of moose-kebabs. Then (and only then) do you get to head out in pursuit of Maine’s largest game animal.

The sticking point is that darned lottery, Mainers can tell you. In fact, there are hundreds of hunters out there who will (if you’re lucky, and if you don’t mind watching a grown man cry) tell you that they’ve entered every moose lottery for more than 20 years … and still haven’t had their lucky number drawn.

Like my brother-in-law, Carl, for instance (I wasn’t going to mention him here, but then he went and got his name drawn for the turkey lottery, and I decided that all past promises of discretion were null and void).

Other hunters (some call them lucky, though The Unlucky call them things too colorful to print here) seem to be able to hunt every few years, either on their own, or as a sub-permittee on someone else’s hunt.

If you want to know exactly what The Unlucky call these people, you’re welcome to contact Carl. He knows all the technical terms.

If you’ve never been drawn, and if you’re really, really, really eager to find out if this is your lucky year, you’ll want to know that tonight may be your lucky night. Or … if you’re a card-carrying member of The Unlucky, I suppose it may not.

This year’s moose permit drawing is being held at the Old Town Elks Lodge, beginning at 6 p.m. The Elks Lodge is located at 290 North Fourth Street Extension.

Maine residents were eligible to register for as many as six chances in the lottery. One chance costs $5, while six chances in the drawing sold for $20. Nonresidents paid 10 bucks for a single try and $50 for 10 chances.

Now, before you head to Old Town in hopes of stuffing the hopper, notice the use of the past tense in the preceding sentences: Were eligible. Paid.

All the entrants met the state’s deadline, and applied months ago. You can’t show up at the door of this lottery and buy any tickets.

All you can do is watch. Hope. Maybe pray a bit.

Which isn’t to say that you can’t have some fun … especially if you (finally) get lucky.

The drawing is open to the public, and prospective hunters are invited to head to Old Town … and maybe see their name drawn.

Another way to keep abreast of the drawing: You can listen to radio station WZON on the Internet (zoneradio.com), which is broadcasting the event live.

Of course, you’re welcome to stay home and let the drawing take place without you. You can still find out if you ought to begin practicing your moose calling by buying Wednesday’s paper. We’ll publish all 2,585 names in the NEWS.

Oh. One more thing. If you happen to see my name on the list, don’t hate me … even though I’ll admit in advance that this is the first year I’ve entered the lottery.

And before you ask, the answer is “Yes.” I’ve already got a sub-permittee lined up. He doesn’t know it, but he was chosen in part because he’s an accomplished hunter, but largely because he’s quite strong, has a bigger truck than mine, and is handy enough to figure out the answer to the moose hunter’s most pressing question: We’ve got an 800-pound moose down, 400 yards away, in the middle of a clear-cut. Now what do we do?

If we’re lucky, however, we may be looking for a healthy posse of moose-luggers sometime in October … although all future personnel decisions are entirely up to my sub-permittee. I’ll advise him to pay nothing, but I’m sure he’ll entice you all with the promise of an unlimited supply of red hot dogs which will be burned over the flames of a finicky Coleman stove.

If we’re lucky, that is.

If we are forced to buy a new freezer, just so we can stash 300 pounds of mooseburger that we’ll munch all winter.

If this is the year.

If.

Good luck to all of you.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.