In late fall of 2016, three young hunters—Gage Van Alstyne, Brett Pile (the owners at Munroe Lake Lodge), and Mike Peroff—embarked on a memorable Canadian moose hunting trip between Gillam and Churchill, MB, along the Owl River system. This river, known for its narrow width and numerous rapids, presented both challenges and opportunities for the trio, who were all in their early 20s.
The adventure began with a train ride from Gillam, where they travelled in the cargo car with their tents, boat, canoe, and other gear. They set up camp at the Owl River bridge on the train tracks, ready for the hunt. The excitement of the journey was palpable as they unloaded their equipment and prepared for the days ahead. The anticipation of the hunt and the camaraderie among the friends set the tone for what would become an unforgettable experience.
On the day they successfully harvested a moose, the three hunters were quietly floating down the river, calling for moose as they went. The river’s gentle current and the early morning mist created an almost surreal atmosphere. As they rounded a bend near evening, they encountered a bull moose grunting on the shore. Brett, with steady hands and a keen eye, took the shot while Gage and Mike steered the boat as far from the moose as possible. Despite the shallow water and the risk of the moose charging, the shot was successful, and the moose dropped. The adrenaline rush was immense, and the sense of accomplishment was shared among the three friends. They quickly set about the task of securing the moose and preparing it for transport, knowing that their hard work had paid off.
Determined to fill their second moose tag, the hunters ventured further upriver a few days later, hoping for a longer hunt. After hours of boating, they stopped for lunch and called for moose. A snowy rainstorm soon hit, with temperatures hovering around zero degrees Celsius, turning the snow into slush. The storm’s intensity increased rapidly, and the hunters found themselves in a precarious situation. Faced with worsening weather, they debated whether to head home or push on to the RC60 camp, a known camp by snowmobile but previously unvisited location from travelling upriver.
Choosing the latter, they continued upriver, pulling the canoe behind the boat. Navigating the rapids required them to repeatedly get out and push or pull the boat and canoe, an exhausting task made more challenging by the cold and wet conditions. The physical exertion was immense, and their hip waders and jackets were soon soaked through. Eventually, they decided to leave the canoe behind to ease their journey. The decision was difficult, but they knew it was necessary to conserve their energy for the challenges ahead.
Despite the hardships, the three hunters persevered, driven by their youthful determination and the thrill of the hunt. They continued up the river for several hours, struggling with the boat as the motor became less useful due to the rocks. Exhausted and wet, they decided to leave the boat and walk the rest of the way along the winding Owl River. The decision to walk was not taken lightly, but it seemed the only viable option given the circumstances. They hoped that by walking, they could make better time and avoid the constant struggle with the boat.
Walking proved faster, but the storm intensified, and everything around them was soaked and covered in slushy snow. They rationed their food, knowing they had to make it to the RC60 camp, which they knew had military rations, a wood stove, bunk beds, and sleeping bags. They walked through the dark, cold, and wet conditions, hoping the camp was just around the next bend. The thought of a warm stove and dry sleeping bags kept them moving forward. The storm showed no signs of letting up, and the cold began to seep into their bones.
As the sun began to rise, they realized they were making poor decisions due to exhaustion and hypothermia. They knew they had to keep moving to stay warm, but the camp remained elusive, and their thought process of the camp being around the next corner went on for hours. After hours of walking, they decided to turn back, knowing the journey back to their camp would take over 15 hours but was a known distance. The realization that they had to retrace their steps was disheartening, but they knew it was the safer choice. The decision was unanimous, and they began the long trek back.
The three hunters walked back along the wet, snow-covered shorelines, supporting each other to keep morale high. They knew starting a fire was nearly impossible in the slushy conditions, and stopping would only make them colder. At one moment, they remember they had taken small breaks to catch their breath, only to find that one of the three would pass out instantly when not moving. This began to be a scary experience as they would pass out without knowing. They pressed on, determined to make it back to camp and survive the ordeal. The camaraderie among them was crucial, as they took turns encouraging one another to keep going. At this point, if any one of the three were to become hurt in any way, there was no way the other two could carry the injured out. They shared stories and jokes to keep their spirits up, knowing that their survival depended on their unity.
As they walked back downstream towards the boat, they joked about shooting a moose and using its carcass for warmth. They kept their spirits up by chanting and singing “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” After hours of walking, they finally reached the boat. They set up a tarp over themselves and floated down the river, sitting in the bottom of the boat as the snow and rain intensified. The makeshift shelter provided some relief from the elements, but they were still cold and exhausted. The river’s current helped them along, but they had to paddle occasionally to avoid obstacles.
With a small jet boiler, they made coffee, which provided some warmth despite their exhaustion and lack of food. The hot drink was a small comfort in their dire situation. They also had a bottle of Fireball whiskey but wisely decided against drinking it, knowing it wouldn’t help their situation. The paramedic later confirmed that drinking the whiskey would have thinned their blood and worsened their hypothermia. The decision to avoid the whiskey likely saved their lives.
After a few hours of floating and paddling, they reached the canoe they had stashed earlier. Tying it to the boat, they attempted to navigate the rapids, but the canoe’s movements made it difficult. Gage decided to paddle the canoe while Brett and Mike managed the boat. Gage would shoot the rapids much faster in the canoe compared to the bulky boat. Gage would then sit on the bottom of the rapids, paddling against the current to stay in one spot in order to stick together; this happened over many rapids. However, Gage didn’t have the energy to paddle just to wait for the guys in the boat and discussed with Brett and Mike that Gage would go ahead as he couldn't waste energy waiting for them. Gage would go ahead and start a fire at camp, thinking they wouldn’t be far behind.
Gage, in his hip waders and floater jacket, paddled through the rapids, chanting to keep his rhythm and fighting the cold. The physical and mental strain was immense, but he pushed through, determined to reach safety. The rapids were treacherous, and the cold water splashed over the sides of the canoe, soaking him further.
As he neared the camp, Gage’s exhaustion made paddling nearly impossible. He dropped his paddle and had to retrieve it by paddling in the cold water with only his hands, which were barely functioning. Gage would get the paddle, but soon after, realizing he wasn’t able to paddle in a straight line any further as his mental capacity and body connections were not functioning normally due to hyperthermia. Realizing he couldn’t continue, he pulled the canoe ashore and tried to stand up. Because his legs were stationary for several hours in the canoe, his legs were frozen. Gage then crawled out the side of the canoe in shallow water and crawled upshore, unable to stand. He managed to regain some feeling in his legs by urinating in his hip waders for some warmth, slowly began to stand up, and walked back to camp. He started to walk down the shoreline and somehow managed to walk past the camp and under the Owl Bridge. Gage kept walking when something made him look back and notice the very massive train bridge he just walked under. If he hadn’t turned around, he would have kept walking by himself and froze to death. However, he did turn around and walked back to camp.
Gage immediately found the sat phone because he knew if he was in this rough shape, his friends would be far behind on the river and would take hours to catch up. Gage contacted Pat Chartier via sat phone, a close family friend and owner of a small airline of float planes. Pat understood the situation and began organizing a rescue. Gage changed into dry clothes, ate some food, and rested. Hours later, he woke to the sound of Mike and Brett calling his name. They had seen the canoe Gage left on the shore and feared the worst but were relieved to find him safe. The reunion was very satisfying as they realized how close they had come to disaster. The relief of being reunited was overwhelming, and they knew they had to stay strong until help arrived.
Pat’s rescue plan involved shutting down the rail line from Montreal to allow the RCMP, Conservation officers, paramedics, and Gage’s dad to reach the camp by truck on the high rail. Rail workers 30 kilometres north of the camp were also radioed to assist until the RCMP arrived. When the RCMP truck finally reached the camp, Gage’s dad’s first question was about the moose and if it was tagged. Gage assured him it was tagged, as he always tags his animals and hangs them safely under the railroad bridge to protect them from polar bears. The sight of the RCMP truck was a welcome relief.
The paramedics took their internal temperatures and determined they were all very close to collapsing due to hypothermia. They were fortunate not to have drunk the Fireball whiskey, which would have thinned their blood and worsened their condition. Gage, Brett, and Mike rode in the box of the RCMP truck with heaters back to Gillam, where an ambulance was waiting to take them to the hospital. They stayed there until they stabilized, with family members noting how swollen and unrecognizable their faces had become. The journey back to Gillam was a blur, but they were grateful to be alive.
This very same year, in the exact same storm, three other young hunters died in a similar scenario.
This story is a powerful reminder of the importance of respecting nature. Stick to known plans, keep morale high, support each other, take cover during storms, never separate, and always pack more than enough food, a GPS, and a satellite phone. The entire ordeal, lasting 36 hours being wet and cold, left a lasting impression on the three friends, who learned valuable lessons about survival, teamwork, and the unpredictable power of nature. The experience brought them closer together and reinforced the importance of preparation and caution in the wilderness.
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