When my name magically popped out of the electronic moose-lottery hopper in June, one of my bosses (of which, I find, there are many) quickly itemized the outdoor columns my good fortune would spawn.

The hunt itself was an obvious topic. We’d be able to get two or three out of that adventure alone. But there were more stories to be told, he assured me. Many, many more.

Moose hunting isn’t a one-week adventure, after all. It’s the one-week culmination of months (or years) of planning and plotting and scheming and dreaming.

And though he didn’t say so I’m also pretty sure this particular boss is quite confident that I’m going to end up in some sort of a bind before Mr. Moose winds up back at the tagging station … if I even end up finding Mr. Moose.

Where he got those ideas, I’m not entirely sure … but I’ve got a notion.

Things happen to me, you see.

Not bad things (or so I tell myself). Not painful things (usually). And not dangerous things.

But things do happen.

I break fly rods, and slip and fall, and slide off snow-covered backwoods roads into deep ditches while trying to get to secret ice-fishing spots.

I lose big fish, catch small ones, and can’t quite figure out how to outwit the big buck (or even the puny little one, for that matter).

In the manner of most folks like me, I am able to rationalize those miscues as “minor inconveniences” that actually make me appreciate the trouble-free times afield even more.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

All of which I offer to you in order to say this: My first moose hunt is approaching … and I’ve got a lot of work to do.

That became painfully apparent on Monday, as I met my sub-permittee for a Critically Important Strategic Moose-Hunt Planning Session (and to begin proving to my boss that, yes, this impending moose hunt will indeed bear literary fruit … or something like it).

Some non-hunters might have called our session “an excuse for a long lunch,” but believe me: We were planning. Strategically. And it was critically important.

My sub-permittee, who has not given me permission to use his name, and who will likely remain anonymous until we actually enjoy a successful hunt (and don’t get into a bind), is quite an outdoorsman, and very resourceful.

He is, in fact, my ace in the hole.

Heck, on a fishing trip we took to northern Quebec a few years back, he broke the tiller off an outboard motor two minutes into our first troll, and successfully steered it for the rest of the afternoon, using nothing but a pair of Vise-Grip pliers.

Well, eventually he did.

First we had to replace the shear pin (with a nail, I think) after we unexpectedly ran aground.

Perhaps that’s when he broke the tiller off the motor … I don’t exactly recall … or perhaps he won’t exactly let me tell.

My memory is a bit foggy, because I was still trying to figure out where my net was (the answer, I learned a week later: Back in Bangor, 18 hours south, leaning against my truck).

So on Monday, my ace in the hole and I met, and began planning our strategy for our upcoming adventure.

We compiled a partial list of the things we need to bring. We compiled a partial list of his brothers, and what they’ll be expected to bring.

We made plans to sight in our rifles, and to shoot at targets diligently between now and late September.

We made plans to head up to our hunting zone, and to begin figuring out where Mr. Moose lives (and perhaps more importantly, in the grand “avoid a bind” scheme of things, how close to a dirt road we can entice him before pulling a single trigger).

We talked about how big our dream moose would be, and which tagging station we’d take him to. We wondered how many of his brothers … oops … how many winches and yards of rope it would take to haul a moose out of a swamp.

And we began talking about food. Yum.

Eventually, we decided that our lunch had stretched long enough, and we adjourned … with a plan.

The key component of that plan: We must (as soon as possible) hold another Critically Important Strategic Moose-Hunt Planning Session.

And we must include as many members of our hunting party as possible.

This meeting, it was informally agreed, should take place during the evening.

Preferably, over a long, leisurely dinner.

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