Got back to camp just at dark. The quietness of the night with no one else there hit me --- tomorrow would be my last day of my hunt. Had some Chunky Man soup before hitting the sleeping bag. I lay there looking at the top of my tent --- my brain was scrambled rehashing the many events of the past several weeks. I don't remember falling asleep ...
Tuesday, Dec. 31. This was it. I was supposed to meet Mike (one of the Yuma Boys) at 6:30 --- we were going to go back and glass near where I was camped originally (nobody had been back there in days). I had to go through a Border Patrol check station on the highway on my to the other side of the mountain --- the guys manning it wished me good luck!
I pulled up next to Mike's Rubicon, Mike said a prayer and we were off. 1/2 an hour we were setting up our tripods and starting to glass. As I turned to glass another part of the mountain, I was greeted by one last sunrise ...
Then it was back to glassing ...
8:30 came and we decided to move back around the side of the mountain --- my phone suddenly picked up an incoming text: "We have rams all over the place. Get over here!"
We had big smiles on our faces as Mike put the pedal the the metal. A little over 1/2 an hour later we pulled up to a small group of optics pointed to the mountain. Rams weren't exactly "all" over its face, but there were 3 broomed rams up feeding! I was talked in to the largest, easily a 160-class ram. Game on.
Not much question as to who was making the stalk with me --- David had helped out on many other sheep kills before (in fact, he'd killed a beautiful ram the year before in the unit just south of mine). He had springs for legs and lungs I'd die for. Jake would tag along (he lived on the unit boundary and knew it better than anyone). The rams continued to move across the face from left to right, edging upwards as they fed.
It was 1.5 miles across the desert floor to the base of the mountain. David moved slowly as we progressed, his head pointed towards the ground to hide his face. We made it across, then reassessed things. The rams were approaching a saddle that seemed to lead to a hidden cut. We headed up, trying to be as quiet as possible (the rocky terrain amplified every misstep).
The view down to where we glassed from, a mile beyond the foothills to the right ...
We worked our way across the lower mountain, then up a finger on the far ridge, glassing as we went ...
