I set my rifle down and dropped my pack, not sure what would come next. I edged my way around a rock outcropping and, boom, there they were on a finger only 300 yards away, slightly above us. 1 ram was up feeding, 4 were still bedded --- all unaware of our presence hidden below them.
I slipped back to where Rex was sitting. We cussed and discussed the situation --- 3 of the rams were definitely not shooters; 1 ram with red horns was close but needed at least another year to grow; the 5th ram was a mature sheep. I radioed the guys below -- there was no question which ram I should be looking at. We sat there for a good 1/2 hour, waiting for them to get up. I was calm and continued to think through everything.
Finally, the larger ram was the 1st to stand, broadside. My rifle was in my hands, crosshairs settled on his shoulder, safety off and finger on the trigger. Then something totally unexpected happened --- I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger on an undisturbed ram 300 yards away. I sat there for probably a minute, looking at the ram centered in my rifle scope. He then stretched and relieved himself, all while I dealt with a multitude of thoughts racing through my brain. Rex was going crazy! I can't imagine what the guys below were saying.
Finally, all the rams were on their feet and followed the largest ram over the ridge and out of sight into a cut. I radioed the guys down below: "I guess that's over, huh?" A simple reply: "Yep."
Spot rams were bedded, just to left of dark spot centered on ridge ...
The sheep I passed on was a mature ram (160-class), no doubt about it. At that moment, I just couldn't see myself looking at him on my wall for the next 20 years. Bottom line, it came down to horn configuration more than anything else. I was the o-n-l-y one thinking that thought though, believe me.
Season was 1/2 over ...
