We got set up on a long ridge where we could look east into the area the Freeway Ram frequented --- clear glassing, some wind again (of course). After about 20 minutes or so, Melvin casually mentions: "I've got him." And, yep, it looked like it was the Freeway Ram.
Ram was bedded just below the horizon, about 10 yards to the right of the palo verde tree on the upper left ridge ...
We were glassing from quite a bit farther than from where the above pic was taken (brown ridge up and to the left of the darkest shadow just to right of center) ...
Ram's home territory ...
We all watched him for quite a while (no way we were making a move while he had the best seat in the house). The ram, all by himself, finally got up and dropped down to the right out of sight. We moved a bit to our right to see if we could re-locate him. No luck (by then we were fighting that shadowy glare we all hate to look into).
Melvin's eagle eyes did it again --- after about 1/2 hour, he had the ram pegged. He was still up, but acting really "goosey" (Melvin's words). Those of you who've hunted bighorn sheep have probably experienced that before --- they don't know themselves what they'll be doing, or where they'll be going, until 5 seconds before they do it. The ram trotted back and forth across the side of the shadowy hill, pausing every so often, until he bailed into a cut and out of view again.
We waited for a few minutes, hoping the ram would decide to bed down in the cut out of the wind. When he didn't reappear after about 10 minutes, I shrugged at the guys: "It's now or never."
My friend Kent (he'd tagged the 172-in. ram 3 weeks earlier) and I would make a stalk while the other guys would watch from afar. The wind had died down some as we worked our way up a rocky wash, re-evaluating our situation as we progressed.
We finally reached a boulder where we thought we should stop. Even though we had been in stealth mode, we hadn't actually been silent getting to there --- we didn't want to press our luck by going forward. We had a clear view upwards toward a saddle 200 yards away --- the ram had to be in the cut on the other side. Leaning across the boulder, I rested my rifle on a Kent's pack, and waited, and waited, and waited. A full 1/2 hour --- nothing ...
The saddle we were watching is just to the left of the shadowy pyramid in center of pic; we were positioned lower and to the right of the shadow (pic taken from palo verde where ram was originally bedded) ...
Okay, time for a new strategy. We had a slight breeze from our left, time to ninja our way slowly up the saddle. But, then that dang Murphy popped his head up again ...
We had gone no more than 50 yards when I turned to Kent:"Crap, the wind just hit the back of my neck!" Appropriate words were muttered. I shook my head, turned, and continued the sneak. I dropped my pack below the saddle and inched my way up behind some bushes, peaking over the edge. No sheep anywhere to be seen --- he'd boogied. We found where he'd bedded, in a spot well-protected with multiple escape routes. More choice words ...
We made our back to the wash we'd come up. As we bottomed out, we turned to glass back up the drainage. There that devil-of-a-ram was, high-tailing it up the shadowy draw!
He hit the top and trotted through the far left saddle on the horizon without stopping ...
Snake-eyes again ...
