Dall Sheep Hunt in Alaska - The Best Hunt of My Life

[SC Living Outdoors]

- The 60 Mile Ram -

For all of my adult life, I’ve wanted to hunt sheep. I don’t really know why. Even years before my first western hunt, I remember wanting to go after sheep and trying to figure out a way to do it. I didn’t know if it would ever happen, but I kept dreaming.

Then I got a promotion at work, and I began to discuss a sheep trip with my wife in earnest. She gave me the green light, and I began to really research. I’d never spent remotely close to this much on a hunt, and I was going to do my homework. I even researched going to Russia and hunting snow sheep, but with flights, visas, interior flights, gun permits, and import fees, the price began to add up in a big way. My dream had always been to go Dall sheep hunting. It was at the very top of my list, more than I wanted to hunt any other sheep species. Once I did the math, a snow sheep hunt in Russia added up to essentially the same as a Dall sheep hunt in Alaska.

The Dall sheep population in Alaska has been well documented as not doing as well as most of Canada’s, and that made me a little concerned. So when I say I did a lot of research, I mean I did a ton of research. I don’t know how many outfitters I talked to, but it was a lot. Unfortunately, I caught many of them lying to me about success rates and when specific sheep were killed.

I made a pretty good friend in Alaska over the last couple of years. He hunts everything up there and has pretty good luck with sheep as well as the other animals. He helped me research as well by going through the Alaska Game and Fish website. I was able to look at the number of sheep harvested and the units, and when outfitters would send me pictures, I could do a reverse image search and usually find when the sheep was actually killed. It was pretty disappointing that I caught a lot of them being dishonest just to get me to book a hunt.

Finally, after what felt like months, I found an outfitter who was responsive. He didn’t run a big operation, which I was completely cool with. The statistics he was giving me matched up with what I found through my research. I reached out to every single reference on the sheet he sent me, which was 20+ people, and all of them gave positive reviews over the last 4–5 years. I even talked to the people who had hunted with him for other species, and everything was still good.

So, with excitement and nervousness, in the summer of 2025, I sent him a deposit for August 2026.

Time seemed to fly by, as it often does, and August was here before I knew it. I’m not going to lie—it was a lot of pressure. Spending that much money on a hunt isn’t something that I took lightly at all. This could be my only sheep hunt. Maybe not, but maybe so. I wanted to be ready mentally and physically. I needed my gear to be ready. I needed all the I’s to be dotted and all the T’s to be crossed. I didn’t want my body, mind, or gear to fail me. If I was unsuccessful, it wasn’t going to be from a lack of effort.

I arrived at the Greenville airport on August 15 to begin my flight up to Chicago, over to Portland, and then up to Alaska. I had strategically planned to arrive two days early just in case there was a problem with luggage or weather getting into my hunting area. I didn’t want Alaska Airlines losing a bag to cost me any time on my hunt. I was secretly hoping that I might even be able to get flown in a day or so early so that I could get the maximum amount of time hunting as possible.

I landed around 1 a.m. Alaska time. I had booked a truck through Enterprise, and according to their website, I couldn’t pick it up until 6:30 a.m. because of my late arrival. However, two planes had landed about the same time, and all the car rental desks had employees there. Upon retrieving my bags without any issues, I walked up to the Enterprise desk, and the lady was kind enough to let me pick up my truck about five hours early.

I had planned to just sleep in the airport for a few hours until I was able to pick it up, but this was a better option. I got out to my truck and was looking for the closest Walmart where I could go to sleep for five or six hours when I decided I would just stay in the rental airport parking lot. My gun case slid pretty neatly between the rear seat and the front seat, and my inflatable mattress filled up all the gaps. I got my sleeping bag and slept for four or five hours.

When I woke up, I headed over to Walmart anyway to pick up a little bit of food because I wasn’t sure if I would be able to get flown in for a couple of days. I also picked up a fuel canister for my little stove, which I wasn’t sure if I would need or not, but I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

Then I was on the road.

That afternoon, I finally met my outfitter in person. He told me he wasn’t sure which guide I would be with yet, but after we talked for a couple of hours, he told me I would be hunting with a guide named Peter. (Peter’s not his real name, but he’s a pretty private guy, so I’m changing it out of respect for him.)

My outfitter told me there might be a window where he could get me in that night, but if not, we would try to go the next morning. However, the high winds were going to make it challenging. I headed out onto some public land for another night in the backseat of the truck because it just felt like a waste of money to pay for a bed when I could easily just sleep in the truck.

 

[SC Living Outdoors]

I got a text message early the next morning from the outfitter saying, “Let’s try it.”

Maybe that should’ve made me nervous, but I was excited, so I got back to the plane and we loaded everything up. I knew the outfitter was very experienced in his plane, but Super Cubs are essentially bathtubs with wings, and I strapped in for what would be maybe the most terrifying forty-ish minutes of my life.

It was blowing 45 miles an hour. Every once in a while, a gust would hit us, which seriously made me clench up, and a good portion of the time, we were flying sideways, it felt like. I am not too proud to say that I was holding on.

But all’s well that ends well, and we landed on a gravel strip just like we had planned, without any damage except for an elevated heart rate.

We unloaded the plane, including the pizza that I had brought to fly in for the guys in camp, which was well received. I met Peter in person, and we went through my gear to make sure I wasn’t carrying anything that was not needed. He and I are about the same age, and we got along great right from the start.

Little did I know that he was one of the most fit mountain hikers on planet Earth, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

After going through my gear, I only removed a couple of very small things (tarp, stove, and fuel), and he told me I didn’t have to take my spotter or rangefinder if I didn’t want to. But those are pretty much staples in my bag, and he was cool with me carrying them.

Often, the way it works at this camp is hunters fly in and then spend the remainder of the day getting everything ready to go in camp. They don’t leave to hunt until the next morning. After all, you can’t fly and hunt on the same day, so that’s normally the plan.

However, because I arrived early that morning and was the first person in camp, we decided to load up our packs and head out that day. Our day zero would just be a hiking day where we could cover a lot of ground and get into sheep country, ready to really start hunting on day one.

I was in camp less than an hour before we headed out.

The first adventure was crossing a river that was too swift to wade, most likely, so they had a small inflatable boat stashed in the bushes, and we used it to cross the river.

I did not know where we were going for the day, but Peter had a basin in mind, so we hiked our way up a creek bed, crossing the creek about 50 different times back and forth as we worked our way in. We saw one small ram and some other ewes and lambs high up on one of the mountains as we hiked in. We also saw lots of moose, caribou, sheep, and wolf tracks in the sand as we continued to hike.

It took us a good portion of the day, but we finally came to where Peter wanted to start hunting. It was 8½ miles from where we had started, and he told me that was the farthest he had ever gone in with a client on the first day. This seemed to make him happy, and it made me feel good that we were able to cover so much ground to start the day.

This was a true backpack hunt. We carried all our gear with us the whole time. At night, we would set up in a specific spot, sometimes right before dark and sometimes just once we reached that area. Then, the next day, we would pack it all up.

Usually on my hunts, I pick an area, backpack in, set up a little spike/base camp for myself, and then hunt an area within two or three miles before moving if needed. This hunt was not like that. If we climbed a mountain, we had our gear. If we went down all the way to the bottom, we had our gear. This allowed us to go wherever we saw sheep and to sleep wherever was necessary.

I did not know it at the time, but the reason we went to this specific area to start the hunt was because, on Peter’s last hunt, they had seen a group of five rams go in this general direction, and one of them looked like it had potential. He wanted to find those five rams and see if one of them was a legal ram.

So that night, we got into the head of that basin, set up our camp, and then Peter said he was going to hike up on top of the ridge and glass. He let me know that it wasn’t necessary for me to come up there if I didn’t want to, and that often hunters would stay at camp to rest their legs while he went up and glassed in the mornings and evenings.

I had made the decision that I was going to give it my all, and that meant going wherever the guide went because two sets of eyes are better than one. I also wanted to try to be the first one up in the morning glassing and stay out glassing until I couldn’t see.

We got up on top of the ridge and immediately found a group of ewes and lambs close by, so we moved out of sight so we wouldn’t spook them and continued to glass.

Before long, one of us spotted five rams way down across the valley in an adjacent basin. I don’t remember which of us spotted them, but while looking with our spotter, we were able to identify them as rams and could even tell that a couple had decent horns from 2.25 miles away.

The plan for the next day was to get back up on the ridge in the morning to make sure the rams were still in the same spot, then go get a closer look to see if any of them were legal.

On this hunt, my goal was to kill a legal ram. I wasn’t holding out for a giant. To me, any double broom/full curl/8-year-old sheep is a trophy that I would be thrilled with.

We headed back down to our camp for the night to eat some food with some positivity going into the next day.

- I’m going to post this story in sections. My goal is to get it all up between today and tomorrow along with pictures. So those of you that don’t like to wait, just come back in a few days and it’ll all be posted. It was a heck of a trip and I want to do the story justice along with posting pictures as they happened.

A pic before I was holding on.

An old cabin while hiking in.

Some ewes and lambs right above camp the first night.

Camp the first night from the ridge.

The 5 rams from over 2 miles away. It was low light.

 

[Mallardsx2]

Very cool so far!!!

We must not live far apart. I fly out of Greenville all the time.

 

[Salmonchaser]

I can’t wait for more

 

[duckhunt]

This is going to be epic.

 

[SC Living Outdoors]

The next morning, I was the first one up, bright and early, and I headed up the ridge to look for those rams. It did not take me very long to locate them. They were still right in the same area they had been in the previous day.

A little while later, after we had packed up camp and eaten breakfast, we began our hike over to get a closer look. The wind was howling that day, which did not make things easy when looking through the glass, but eventually we closed the distance to about 1,500 yards. In between the wind gusts, we were able to get a closer look.

Two rams were close to legal. It looked like one ram was seven years old and short of full curl, while another ram was six or seven and less than an inch away from being full curl.

While we were glassing the rams, I turned around and glassed in the opposite direction and located a small group of caribou with a great bull in it. Unfortunately, I did not have a caribou tag.

We continued our way up to the top of the bowl, where we had decided we would camp for the night and be able to glass the backside of the ridge that looked into multiple different basins.

We were able to get a closer look at the rams again, and none were legal, although those two were close. Right before we got to the top of the bowl, there was a flat area where we could camp for the night. Even though it was only afternoon, we set up our shelters in the wind, and once we had everything secured, we headed up to the rim to start glassing down into the bowls.

We immediately picked up a group of sheep down below us, but there was only one ram, and he was about five years old. We glassed there for a while before moving up to the next bowl, and then the one after that, finding sheep in each bowl.

It wasn’t until the last bowl that I glassed up a good ram. He was broomed on one side and just shy of full curl on the other. Unfortunately, he was 1,200 yards away in an incredibly difficult spot, with not really a way to get closer to him unless you wanted to pop up at an ultra-close range and shoot him.

Peter was teaching me about how to age sheep because I had very minimal experience doing so. The main thing he was looking for to start was the three-year-old growth ring. If you’re able to see the three-year ring and it is around the ear area, odds are the sheep is not eight years old. If the three-year ring is a lot lower, closer to the jaw or lower, your odds of it being a legal sheep by age are a lot higher.

We watched that ram for a long time, but unfortunately, in the end, Peter decided he was not legal, and it was not worth burning an entire day to try to get close to maybe kill a ram that he thought would not check one of the boxes on legality.

The next morning, I was the first one up again, glassing the same areas, but I did not turn up any new sheep. After we ate breakfast, we got up on the high ridge above camp and followed it for a few miles, glassing down into all the bowls that we passed along the way.

We crossed paths with the five rams again that morning at 300 yards. One of them was definitely seven years old, and the other was as close to full curl as I think you can get, but it just did not check the box. We believed he was a six-year-old ram.

We eventually made our way all the way down to the main creek, working our way through some wet tundra and slippery rocks, where we stopped to have lunch. We made a plan to follow the main creek down a mile or so before cutting up another side creek, then climbing a slow tundra rise to a shelf off the side of one of the mountains.

This location would allow us to glass some country that we had not seen yet, including some country where we had seen a handful of sheep the night before that we thought might be rams.

We arrived on that shelf in the afternoon, and it was a great camp location. After setting everything up, we climbed 500 feet above camp to the top of a ridge that would allow us to see an incredible amount of country.

That night, we glassed a lot of sheep, seven of which were rams. Two of them would require a closer look the next day. We went to sleep hopeful that one of them would be a legal ram.

The ram that was broomed on one side.



Caribou shedCaribou I glassed up.

Big Boar Grizzly I glassed up while looking at the small 5yr ram.

Another Caribou.

First moose of the trip.

A couple rams.

 

[Kiwi]

What a great adventure. Thanks for posting.

This report might end up costing me a lot of money on an caribou and bear hunt.

 

[WNC2500]

@SC Living Outdoors Looking forward to following along

 

[brymoore]

Follow!

 

[Deez Nutz]

Bro, I'm glad your foot didn't get scorched this year. Enjoying the read. And here I am hunting boring things like antelope and elk.

 

[mdhunter]

SC Living Outdoors should be using the name “Natural Born Killer” or maybe “East Coast Killer”, lol.

Following…

 

[elkhuntinfool78]

Anxious to hear the rest!

 

[kiwi hunter]

getting better, my best ride was in a small plane between Lanai and Honolulu thru a thunder storm, i was younger then so very exciting
im in nz at present so got lots of time to follow along

 

[SC Living Outdoors]

The next morning, we were up again pretty early, glassing briefly, and then we packed up and headed out. We dropped down off the ridge and worked our way a mile or so up the ridge to get on top. This new location would give us a great view of the entire valley as well as into four different bowls. It would also put us within a mile and a half of one of the rams we saw and 1,500 yards of the other six.

The six rams were a group of five and then a singular ram. The singular ram, to me, looked like an older ram. He was not full curl, but he was heavy. He seemed like he was heavier than any ram we had seen up until that point. We watched him all day along with the other five rams. None of them made full curl, and we were not quite close enough to be able to count rings. The seventh ram that we had seen from 2½ miles away or so, we never saw that whole day.

We saw a lot of ewes and lambs and maybe even another small ram or two, but no definite shooters.

Peter told me a lot of times the rams they shot in that area were based off of age. Sometimes they were full curl, but a lot of times they weren’t, and I was OK with that. Like I said previously, any legal ram to me would be a trophy. We just had to verify for sure that any ram that was shot was legal.

He also told me that sometimes some good rams were killed in that area and that when you saw a big one, you would know it without a doubt. But up until that point, we had not seen a no-doubt ram.

With a couple of hours to go before dark, we worked our way down the spine of the rocky ridge we had been sitting on all day to a flat, grassy area that would allow us a good view for the last hour or so of daylight and the next morning.

We saw two more groups of sheep, but no rams. We put the biggest ram to bed with the hope that we’d be able to get a closer look at him tomorrow and verify if he was a ram that could be shot.

The next morning, all six rams were exactly where we left them the night before, and on top of that, six new rams had come in right behind camp. The oldest being seven years old…again.

We watched these new rams feed 200 yards from our tent for an hour before they finally moved off.

We also watched the craziest thing happen. Two of the rams from the group of five saw the big solitary ram, ran over to him, and started just annoying him and chasing him all over the mountain. Eventually, they herded him back with the group of five, where they then wanted to follow him.

Usually with rams, the biggest/oldest ram is in the lead and shows all the other rams where to go, so it was weird that they chased and bullied him to join their group just to follow him.

We watched them until around 10 a.m., when they bedded, and we decided we were going to put a stalk on them to try to get close enough to verify that the biggest ram was a legal sheep.

We backtracked a little ways to drop down into a creek that took us down to the larger creek that ran up the valley that we had been glassing. We then began our stalk, taking our time until we were almost in view. That’s when I got out my rifle just in case there was a shot opportunity.

Unfortunately, the wind was not as consistent as it had been in the bottom and swirled on us, giving those rams some idea that something was going on. Peter was able to get his spotting scope on them as they stood up, and he could not verify that the ram was at least eight years old.

He saw seven sets of rings, but not an eighth. It’s possible that one was there, but we would have had to look very closely for a long time. Once those rams had our scent and knew where to look, they picked up some movement and they were out of Dodge.

Peter and I were both a little bit disappointed, but neither of us wanted to make a mistake and shoot a sub-legal sheep. He only saw seven rings, so that was that.

We decided to follow the creek down until it ran into another creek, where we would spend the night and hike up on a new mountain the next day.

As we were working our way down the creek, we were seeing all kinds of tracks, one of which was a huge wolf track. We noticed that it looked very fresh, but didn’t really think anything of it.

Then we saw a wolf footprint on a rock that was still wet.

At that point, I should’ve taken my gun off my pack and been ready to shoot just in case we bumped into one, but I didn’t, thinking that the wolf had probably crossed the creek and headed up the side of the mountain.

We hiked a little farther and came to a blind turn in the creek. I even remember thinking to myself, It would be really easy to sneak up on an animal around this corner.

But wouldn’t you know it? When we came around the corner, 15 feet away was a wolf staring at us.

We think it must have heard us walking up the creek, thinking we were caribou, and was waiting to ambush us. Unfortunately, I could not get my gun off my pack fast enough, and he slipped away unharmed.

We got to the fork, where the two creeks came together, and set up camp with a game plan to climb up on top of a new mountain the next day.


The bigger ram.


Group of rams.

 

[SC Living Outdoors]

Bro, I'm glad your foot didn't get scorched this year. Enjoying the read. And here I am hunting boring things like antelope and elk.

Nothing wrong with hunting elk and antelope!

 

[BearFoot]

Just being there, AWESOME!

 

[SC Living Outdoors]

This was a 10-day hunt, but those 10 days also included flying in and flying out. So really, it was an eight-day hunt. The way I had booked my commercial flights, I had a couple of days on the back end if needed. If we were sitting on a ram that was legal, we could potentially extend my hunt by a day or so.

I already mentioned that we left the day I flew in because I got there so early in the morning, so I really was on a nine-day hunt, even though day one had no shooting because it was the day I flew in.

Peter would ask me a couple of times every day how I was doing. I thought he meant physically. I would tell him I was doing OK. My feet and knees were getting sore, but that was to be expected. We were covering a lot of miles and climbing a lot of mountains.

After day five, he asked me how I was doing, and then he said, “Mentally.”

He said a lot of guys, if they get to the halfway point in a hunt and they’re not successful yet, start getting pretty discouraged. I told him I was still doing “OK” and knew it could turn around very quickly. He told me he had guided a good many animals that had been killed in the last day or two and even a few that had been killed in “overtime.”

The whole time we had been hunting, we had also had a “packer” with us. We all carried our own gear, but he was essentially there in case we were successful, so I guess I wouldn’t have to carry as much weight back to base camp. If we stayed for a while in a high basin without water, he would also go get water.

He was very, very green, though. He didn’t know how to glass or really hunt at all, and that was OK. The previous day, however, Peter had gotten an InReach message asking if we wanted Mike, who was an experienced packer and hunter, to meet up with us because the hunt he had been helping on was completed.

Mike just loves to hunt, and he was excited about going on another sheep hunt. I didn’t think another set of eyes was a bad thing, and he had the type of personality that everyone wants to be around.

Our plan for the day, when we woke up in the creek bed after a good night’s sleep, was to climb the mountain we were camped adjacent to. We had an InReach message from Mike telling us he was going to meet us on top of that mountain and hunt with us for the remainder of my trip. He also said he had brought a bunch of food with him, so we’d be able to eat plenty without trying to stretch it out.

We got up and had some Mountain House breakfast. Most mornings it was biscuits and gravy. Then we began our hike.

As we started ascending the mountain, Peter was once again fast as lightning. I was thinking I must just be a ridiculously slow hiker when our packer told us that Peter was known for being the fastest and most in-shape guide. He said no one could keep up with him.

I found out later there’s a joke around camp calling him the T-1000 from Terminator because there’s no way he could be human.

On our climb up the mountain, we crossed multiple blueberry patches and stopped to have some snacks along the way. I had been asking Peter endless foraging questions because it was so interesting to me. He had pointed out blueberries, which I already knew, but also cloudberries, cranberries, crow berries, rosebud for tea, some kind of wild sage that could be used for seasoning, and some orange berry that really didn’t have any flavor but you could eat. Later that evening, he would point out red currants, which were absolutely fantastic!

Being from the Deep South, there’s not really a whole lot of wild berries we can eat except blackberries and some nut options, so it was really cool to see all the different berry-foraging options.

As we approached the summit of the mountain, we saw Mike and met up with him before continuing along the spine to an area where we would glass for the day.

Mike had seen three rams that morning while hiking and said one of them deserved a closer look. When we got to our desired location, we set up to have some lunch and began glassing.

We saw a fairly large group of ewes and lambs below us and the three rams that Mike had seen that morning on the ridge parallel to us. One of the rams was bigger than the rest, but I could tell he wasn’t full curl, so I wasn’t feeling overly confident that he was going to be a legal ram.

We stayed up on that ridge for the majority of the afternoon, not turning up any sheep, but I glassed up a few moose (one was a giant).

Peter sat down beside me to discuss our options for the remainder of the hunt. We were into the afternoon of day six, which meant we had three days remaining. He said we could go check out the ram we had been watching that day and see if he was legal. If he was, we could try to kill him. If he wasn’t, we could drop down into the creek that ran adjacent to the mountain and hunt our way through those mountains for the next three days, eventually getting picked up at a different airstrip than the one we had been dropped off at.

The other option was a standalone mountain that was more than three miles away, line of sight. We had seen some sheep on it, but had no reason to believe there was a good ram over there. It would also, most likely, take up the remainder of our hunt if we went over there.

I told him I felt like we had to go check out the ram we had been watching just to verify if he was legal or not, even though I didn’t feel like he was. After that, I felt like the best option was to hunt our way around that creek toward the other strip.

He agreed and felt like that was the best option.

We set off down the mountain, crossing a large, flat tundra area that would allow us to glass the three rams on the mountainside from a much closer distance. The hike wasn’t really too bad, and it didn’t take us very long before we were setting down our packs to have a good look with the spotters.

I could immediately verify that the ram was not full curl. I also felt like I could see the first ring, and it was up by his ear, meaning he most likely was not eight or older. Peter studied the ram for a long time through his Swarovski ATC just to be sure, but in the end told me he believed the ram to be seven years old.

That made a minimum of five rams we had seen that we believed to be seven years old, and another couple that were within two inches of being legal.

While we were sitting there and Peter was still looking at the seven-year-old ram, I looked at the standalone mountain to our north because there had been some sheep on it throughout the day. The light had changed, and the sheep were on their feet grazing high on the mountainside.

While I looked through my spotter from 3½ miles away, I could tell a couple of the nine sheep in the group were rams. I thought to myself that if I could see horns from 3½ miles away, it was probably a pretty good one over there.

All of a sudden, I saw a sheep moving from my left to right in my scope. He had a big body, but what was more substantial was the heavy set of horns I could see on his head. From 3½ miles away, it looked like he had heavy mass all the way down through his neck and jaw. The lighting made a thick dark line all the way through his white fur. The mass didn’t look like it changed through the whole duration of the horn tha I could see.

Even though he was 3½ miles away, we had not seen a sheep with mass like this. He was different in a big way.

I looked at him through my scope for close to five minutes without saying anything while the other guys continued to look at the close ram, trying to make him a legal sheep.

After five minutes of looking at the sheep and making sure I wasn’t seeing things, I took my eye away from the scope and said, “Um, guys, I’m pretty sure I’m looking at a legal ram over there.”

I don’t know the reaction I was expecting, but we had been hunting together long enough by then that I had glassed my fair share of animals, and Peter and Mike took my words with a lot of interest. They immediately moved their spotters off the seven-year-old ram they had been watching and looked across at the standalone mountain.

I said, “See the bottom two sheep? He’s second from the left.”

They stared into their scopes. They were very quiet which surprised me. I don’t think anything was said for a couple minutes.

Finally I said, “I’m not imagining that, right? He looks massive.”

Mike pulled his eye away from his spotter and said, “That ram looks like he’s been decapitated,” referring to the thick, dark line of horn that was separating his head from his body.

Peter pulled his head away from the spotter and said, “You’re definitely not imagining it. Looks like we’re going over there.”

Going over there was a little more of a challenge than heading to most places. It would require us to hike back the way we had just come, toward the mountain, through a steep saddle, down through some incredibly thick alders to the original creek bed we had hiked in on, take the raft back across the river, go up the other side of the river and up another creek, then climb a tundra ridge to an area where we would be able to glass.

That would not all happen today.

But we had a big ram spotted, and we had three days to kill him.

My attitude went from doing my very best to stay positive to thinking, We very well might get this done—and get it done on a beast of a ram.

The massive bull I glassed. Biggest bull I’ve ever seen. Peter estimated him at 65 inches with wide paddles.

Another bull I glassed. It’s hard to tell but this bull had a 8” drop tine on his right side.

This porcupine was munching on a mushroom and seemed to be on his own adventure.

The 3 rams with another 7yr old.

 

[Beignet]

I was happy to see this thread pop up. Your writing style and trip reports have always been a great read, and seem to be getting better with every hunt. Really appreciate your attention to play-by-play detail, especially on a grueling hunt such as this.

You’re gonna have a great hunting memoir to publish someday.

 

[thomas89]

So what you’re telling me is this outfit is gonna have 8 year old rams THICK next season?

Awesome write-up! I have a sneaking suspicion how this ends but I’m in!