TBinKodiak
Member
Well this place is a little dead so I figured I'd post up the story of my sheep hunt from August. It's a bit long, but a pretty good decription of what we went through. If you are just interested in "Horn Porn" scroll down to the bottom. 
I brought my cousin up to help me out on this hunt and we took the ferry out of Kodiak. We arrived in Seward the next morning after a 13 hour boat ride and got on the road by 10AM. I drove hard to get to the rest stop near the access point we would drive in. The plan was to take this dirt road in 6 miles then jump on the 4 wheeler for another 6-7 miles. After a sleepless night spent in the truck we were ready to head in at 5AM. We got everything ready to go and fired up the 4wheeler only to find out it wouldn’t go into gear. It would go into reverse, but not forward, after messing around with it for a half hour we decided to just go for it instead of taking it into town and trying to get it fixed (losing a day). I almost didn't bring the 4 wheeler anyway since I prefer to earn my trophies with boot leather, so it wasn't a difficult decision.
The first 5-6 miles were pretty easy over rolling ground following the 4wheeler trail, it was decent hiking weather with a light mist and temp in the low 50s. We spotted 9-10 moose on the way in and a couple bear and wolf tracks. We made the spot where we had planned to drop the 4 wheeler off at around 11am. After this things started to get difficult. We had to drop off that hill/Mt and up another one. After pounding out 7 miles the 1,000 foot climb up this brushy foothill tested our strength. Once at the top we dropped off slightly again before heading up the actual Mountain we would hunt.
As we climbed up into the fog and rain we started to feel the effects of the cold on our tired, sweat soaked bodies. After stopping to eat and hydrate we felt a little better and pushed on. We made good time that first day considering the fog and probably put on 12-13 miles going from 1300 feet to 4800 with more ups and downs than flat ground. As we sat and ate our dehydrated dinners I spotted 2 rams up the valley from us. The spotting scope showed the bigger one was pushing full curl but we would have to get closer to be sure. We devised a plan and set off, dropping 600 precious feet only to have to regain it again. Coming over a rise we bumped a herd of about 40 caribou, but luckily caribou aren’t very smart. Instead of running away from us and toward the sheep they bolted and ran to us, crossing in front of us about 100 yards out. Unfortunately the sheep had begun feeding and had moved into some vertically challenged ground. The ram looked to be legal from our new location but still about 800 yards out with no way to get closer. We were also about a mile and a half away from our tents with only about an hour of light left so we called off the stalk. Day two dawned to a half inch of snow and a steady mist mixed with flurries. We tried to locate the ram again but after failing to do so decided to head up over the Mt and get into the honey hole that my buddy had hunted 2 years before.
That decision was probably not a wise choice since the rain turned to heavy snow at about the 5200 foot mark and we had to hike another 4 miles over the top(6050feet) in a snow storm. A few miss steps caused me to fall twice but the trekking poles earned there keep and kept us vertical for most of the trip. Hiking through the fog is eerie at best and a cause for pure terror as you come to a 2,000 foot drop that looks like 10,000 due to the distortion of the fog. Amazingly with the help of the GPS, map and pure dead reckoning we came to the cliffs about 200 yards from where we had planned. A 800 foot drop down a 70 degree rock slide put us on a small finger with an amazing view of the valley. Having dropped below the fog we could now see for 20-30 miles. The decision was made after a short glassing session to camp here instead of moving back into the valley where my buddy and his friend had taken their rams.
Instead of being up in the cliffs the sheep were out on a plateau across the valley from us. I assume this was due to us being the first and probably last people into this valley this year. We set up the scope and immediately picked out the biggest ram directly across from us in a group of 5 rams with 3 full curls. There were other sheep too, a group of 2 rams down the plateau from us with one possible full curl. A group of 6 ewes and 5 rams up the plateau from the first 5, with 1 possibly 2 full curls. And later a group of 4 that crossed the valley about a mile up stream from camp with a full curl ram in the bunch. This is also when we spotted the ram we called Buddy since he lived about 1,000 yards down the cliffs from our camp. Buddy was also a very nice full curl and was to be our back up ram should something go wrong the following morning.
The morning dawned to clear skies and more ice in the water bottle. After a quick breakfast and a short glassing session we located the 5 rams feeding in roughly the same place as they had bedded the night before. We made our plans and set off on our 3 mile stalk. Spotting Buddy again once we reached the bottom helped to bolster our confidence and also gave us a needed break as we put the spotting scope on him again to verify he was definitely legal. He also had his “spotting scope” out and was sizing us up from about a mile away, sheep have eyes about like pronghorn and it is their main defense.
Our plan was to drop to the canyon floor then climb up the plateau behind a hill and cirlce around behind the 5 rams. As is usually the case in the mountains the land looks a lot different once your there than it does from afar. The plateau was a series of steps and as we belly crawled up to the lip of each one to glass the excitement built. The wind was in our favor and the hunt felt good. Coming over a small pile of boulders I spotted the two rams that had been further down the ridge from the group of 5. The biggest still looked close to legal, but this information was just filed away as a back-up plan should something go wrong. Backing up to take a safer route around a pile of boulders I spotted 3 rams bedded about 500 yards away. Knowing these had to be part of the group we were after I put the scope on them. I was a little dissapointed to see it was the 2 small ¾ curl rams and the spindly horn full curl of the group. A slight reposition allowed me to see the big boy bedded about 100 yards below them though and the excitement returned.
STUCK!!!! Nothing but open ground between me and them and still one ram unaccounted for. After running a number of scenarios through my mind the rams stood and began to slowly feed in our direction. I accessed the situation and figured they were headed up a small draw to the north of us. I made a quick repositioning about 100 yards in that direction and buried myself in a pile of car sized boulders. They came over the rise in single file. The first 3 were the scrubs then the big boy showed himself. I about squeezed the trigger on him at this point since he was 200 yards out, but I still wanted a look at ram #5. Old #5 took his time but slowly fed over the same knoll. He was nice too, a definite full curl with a tight curl configuration to his horns. Now I had a decision to make do I want a tight curl ram or a wide flaring one. The decision was made to take a shot at the wide flare because of his obvious mass. At this point I had been looking through the rifle scope for about 20 minutes and it was a little hard to get the cross hairs to settle on the ram. I felt good about the shot, but the rams all bolted in my direction. At 150 yards they stopped facing me, but still unsure as to which direction the shot had come from.
I ran the shot through my mind and thought I may have shot high and slightly back, but still felt I had hit the ram. I didn’t like taking the frontal shot but as the ram turned his head to look over his back he exposed his front shoulder. At the shot he dropped. I stood and gave the thumbs up to Darren and he met me at the ram. Inspecting the ram I saw I had clipped his horn and split his ear with the shot. Luckily the horn was hard enough to fracture the bullet sending 3 fragments into his brain below the eye. Definitely not the best shot I’ve ever made on a game animal, but the end result was a fine trophy. (After returning home and heading to the range I found out the gun was shooting a foot high and about 8-10" to the left at a 100 yards. I guess the falls I had taken in the snow covered boulders had bumbed the scope off zero.)
On close inspection the mass of the ram stood out above all else. He was also obviously full curl, but by only an inch or so. It’s not uncommon for rams to be 40 inches and not full curl due to how the horns grow. This problem is most common in the wide flaring horn configuration as this ram had. He is also 10 years old with very pronounced growth rings so there would be no question as to the legality (at sealing he made full-curl and 10 years old, being legal at 8). In Alaska a Dall has to have horns that grow through full-curl or be at least 8 years old. The later being the hardest way to accurately judge a ram due to many of them having false growth rings.
My quest for a full curl Dall had ended at 10:30 on day 3 of our hunt. I mentioned to Darren that this day was also my anniversary and that I wished I could call my wife and let her know we were safe and due to be headed out the next day. That would have to wait though since we were 2 days hard hiking from the nearest phone, not to mention we weren’t out of the proverbial “woods” yet anyway.
After cleaning the blood off the cape to prevent staining we took pictures and began the butchering. Having a sunny day with temps pushing the mid 60s caused a problem with the blow flies. Luckily the wind picked up enough to keep them at bay. The caping and butchering done we made a plan of attack for the next day on the mountain. We decided to head up stream and go at the hill from a different angle than we had come down. Once we found a spot the decision was made that I would finish caping and turning the hide while Darren went down valley with an empty pack and ascended the Mt to get our tents and gear. On his trip he bumped into the remaining 4 rams in the bottom of the valley, sending them into the safety of the cliffs.
The next morning was spent resting and finishing the turning and salting of the hide. As we were packing up camp 5 caribou felt that they should be allowed access through our area and hesitantly moved through about 100 yards from camp. The clouds and light rain had returned and we set off with 85-90lb packs at around noon. The 2,000 foot climb up was a repeat of the trip in, with times of rain and snow. We did bump a group of 6 rams on top at about 150 yards, with another full curl to look at and admire. We made good time, considering the weather and condition of our bodies, and were able to make the edge of the mountains by 9:30 that night. With 12 miles behind us and only 8 or so more miles ahead of us we started the next day slightly sore but anxious to beat the weather off the Mt. We spotted more bear, wolf and moose tracks in the flats but nothing more exciting than blistered feet and sore knees for the next 6 hours. We made the truck at 12:30 ending our four and a half day, 45 mile round trip trek for the “King of the Mountain”.
We took the horns to be sealed (registered) at the Fish and Game office that afternoon. He was the second longest at 37” with a 39.5” ram beating him for that honor, but his 14-14.25” bases beat the second best by a full inch and the third by an inch and a half. Taking into account his mass, which carries well all the way through (13” at the first quarter and 10.5” at the second), he was the best ram of the 18-20 registered so far. The average for this area is 34-35” horns with 12.5” bases. His rough Boone and Crockett score is 161” which just beats the 160” minimum for awards but after drying he is just shy of that honor, still a fine trophy in anyone’s book and to have “earned” him as we did only makes his 17.5lbs of horn that much more amazing.
The hunt is over, but the memories will remain until I die. Along with those memories two quotes by the best packer any man could have remain:
The first day as we were close to or experiencing hypothermia sitting in the wind in our cold, sweat drenched clothing. “Jesus we could die up here”
The second quote after we had made it out and on our drive into town: “Man we just got done living like wild f@#$ing animals for 5 days”
My answer to both was just a smile and simple “Yep”. I don’t take Darren as one to use profanity mildly but in describing these two situations the phases were spoken with pure truth and the enormity of the situation still made them huge understatements.
It's been 3 months and my body has recovered, yet my soul longs to “Live like a Wild F@#$ing Animal” in the Mountains again. Here’s to the memories, pain, triumph and fear experienced on one of the greatest adventures I’ve been able to be a part of.
I’d also like to take a moment to thank the sponsors of this adventure.
To Tylenol for providing me with my “vitamin T” everyday. You helped reduce the pain felt in my knee with each and every step on the way out from feeling like being stuck with a 4 inch blade to only being stuck with a 3” blade.
To Meindl boots for only giving me 2 black toenails and no blisters bigger than 3” in diameter.
To Yamaha 4 wheelers for giving me the opportunity to hike an additional 12 miles in bear and wolf infested woods with a 55lb and 85lb pack. :BLEEP:
To Mountain house freeze dried dinners for not letting me starve, even though it was a toss up at times.
To Garmin GPS for actually being right even though I swore and cursed you for being wrong most of the time. |oo
To Crooked Creek backpacks for making a pack, that although rated for 75lbs could not withstand the rigors of this hunt. Yet was built to allow a man with a needle and a little dental floss the ability to sew the shoulder strap and belt back on. :MAD
And to my biggest sponsor, my wife, for not killing me for trying to kill myself.
I brought my cousin up to help me out on this hunt and we took the ferry out of Kodiak. We arrived in Seward the next morning after a 13 hour boat ride and got on the road by 10AM. I drove hard to get to the rest stop near the access point we would drive in. The plan was to take this dirt road in 6 miles then jump on the 4 wheeler for another 6-7 miles. After a sleepless night spent in the truck we were ready to head in at 5AM. We got everything ready to go and fired up the 4wheeler only to find out it wouldn’t go into gear. It would go into reverse, but not forward, after messing around with it for a half hour we decided to just go for it instead of taking it into town and trying to get it fixed (losing a day). I almost didn't bring the 4 wheeler anyway since I prefer to earn my trophies with boot leather, so it wasn't a difficult decision.
The first 5-6 miles were pretty easy over rolling ground following the 4wheeler trail, it was decent hiking weather with a light mist and temp in the low 50s. We spotted 9-10 moose on the way in and a couple bear and wolf tracks. We made the spot where we had planned to drop the 4 wheeler off at around 11am. After this things started to get difficult. We had to drop off that hill/Mt and up another one. After pounding out 7 miles the 1,000 foot climb up this brushy foothill tested our strength. Once at the top we dropped off slightly again before heading up the actual Mountain we would hunt.
As we climbed up into the fog and rain we started to feel the effects of the cold on our tired, sweat soaked bodies. After stopping to eat and hydrate we felt a little better and pushed on. We made good time that first day considering the fog and probably put on 12-13 miles going from 1300 feet to 4800 with more ups and downs than flat ground. As we sat and ate our dehydrated dinners I spotted 2 rams up the valley from us. The spotting scope showed the bigger one was pushing full curl but we would have to get closer to be sure. We devised a plan and set off, dropping 600 precious feet only to have to regain it again. Coming over a rise we bumped a herd of about 40 caribou, but luckily caribou aren’t very smart. Instead of running away from us and toward the sheep they bolted and ran to us, crossing in front of us about 100 yards out. Unfortunately the sheep had begun feeding and had moved into some vertically challenged ground. The ram looked to be legal from our new location but still about 800 yards out with no way to get closer. We were also about a mile and a half away from our tents with only about an hour of light left so we called off the stalk. Day two dawned to a half inch of snow and a steady mist mixed with flurries. We tried to locate the ram again but after failing to do so decided to head up over the Mt and get into the honey hole that my buddy had hunted 2 years before.
That decision was probably not a wise choice since the rain turned to heavy snow at about the 5200 foot mark and we had to hike another 4 miles over the top(6050feet) in a snow storm. A few miss steps caused me to fall twice but the trekking poles earned there keep and kept us vertical for most of the trip. Hiking through the fog is eerie at best and a cause for pure terror as you come to a 2,000 foot drop that looks like 10,000 due to the distortion of the fog. Amazingly with the help of the GPS, map and pure dead reckoning we came to the cliffs about 200 yards from where we had planned. A 800 foot drop down a 70 degree rock slide put us on a small finger with an amazing view of the valley. Having dropped below the fog we could now see for 20-30 miles. The decision was made after a short glassing session to camp here instead of moving back into the valley where my buddy and his friend had taken their rams.
Instead of being up in the cliffs the sheep were out on a plateau across the valley from us. I assume this was due to us being the first and probably last people into this valley this year. We set up the scope and immediately picked out the biggest ram directly across from us in a group of 5 rams with 3 full curls. There were other sheep too, a group of 2 rams down the plateau from us with one possible full curl. A group of 6 ewes and 5 rams up the plateau from the first 5, with 1 possibly 2 full curls. And later a group of 4 that crossed the valley about a mile up stream from camp with a full curl ram in the bunch. This is also when we spotted the ram we called Buddy since he lived about 1,000 yards down the cliffs from our camp. Buddy was also a very nice full curl and was to be our back up ram should something go wrong the following morning.
The morning dawned to clear skies and more ice in the water bottle. After a quick breakfast and a short glassing session we located the 5 rams feeding in roughly the same place as they had bedded the night before. We made our plans and set off on our 3 mile stalk. Spotting Buddy again once we reached the bottom helped to bolster our confidence and also gave us a needed break as we put the spotting scope on him again to verify he was definitely legal. He also had his “spotting scope” out and was sizing us up from about a mile away, sheep have eyes about like pronghorn and it is their main defense.
Our plan was to drop to the canyon floor then climb up the plateau behind a hill and cirlce around behind the 5 rams. As is usually the case in the mountains the land looks a lot different once your there than it does from afar. The plateau was a series of steps and as we belly crawled up to the lip of each one to glass the excitement built. The wind was in our favor and the hunt felt good. Coming over a small pile of boulders I spotted the two rams that had been further down the ridge from the group of 5. The biggest still looked close to legal, but this information was just filed away as a back-up plan should something go wrong. Backing up to take a safer route around a pile of boulders I spotted 3 rams bedded about 500 yards away. Knowing these had to be part of the group we were after I put the scope on them. I was a little dissapointed to see it was the 2 small ¾ curl rams and the spindly horn full curl of the group. A slight reposition allowed me to see the big boy bedded about 100 yards below them though and the excitement returned.
STUCK!!!! Nothing but open ground between me and them and still one ram unaccounted for. After running a number of scenarios through my mind the rams stood and began to slowly feed in our direction. I accessed the situation and figured they were headed up a small draw to the north of us. I made a quick repositioning about 100 yards in that direction and buried myself in a pile of car sized boulders. They came over the rise in single file. The first 3 were the scrubs then the big boy showed himself. I about squeezed the trigger on him at this point since he was 200 yards out, but I still wanted a look at ram #5. Old #5 took his time but slowly fed over the same knoll. He was nice too, a definite full curl with a tight curl configuration to his horns. Now I had a decision to make do I want a tight curl ram or a wide flaring one. The decision was made to take a shot at the wide flare because of his obvious mass. At this point I had been looking through the rifle scope for about 20 minutes and it was a little hard to get the cross hairs to settle on the ram. I felt good about the shot, but the rams all bolted in my direction. At 150 yards they stopped facing me, but still unsure as to which direction the shot had come from.
I ran the shot through my mind and thought I may have shot high and slightly back, but still felt I had hit the ram. I didn’t like taking the frontal shot but as the ram turned his head to look over his back he exposed his front shoulder. At the shot he dropped. I stood and gave the thumbs up to Darren and he met me at the ram. Inspecting the ram I saw I had clipped his horn and split his ear with the shot. Luckily the horn was hard enough to fracture the bullet sending 3 fragments into his brain below the eye. Definitely not the best shot I’ve ever made on a game animal, but the end result was a fine trophy. (After returning home and heading to the range I found out the gun was shooting a foot high and about 8-10" to the left at a 100 yards. I guess the falls I had taken in the snow covered boulders had bumbed the scope off zero.)
On close inspection the mass of the ram stood out above all else. He was also obviously full curl, but by only an inch or so. It’s not uncommon for rams to be 40 inches and not full curl due to how the horns grow. This problem is most common in the wide flaring horn configuration as this ram had. He is also 10 years old with very pronounced growth rings so there would be no question as to the legality (at sealing he made full-curl and 10 years old, being legal at 8). In Alaska a Dall has to have horns that grow through full-curl or be at least 8 years old. The later being the hardest way to accurately judge a ram due to many of them having false growth rings.
My quest for a full curl Dall had ended at 10:30 on day 3 of our hunt. I mentioned to Darren that this day was also my anniversary and that I wished I could call my wife and let her know we were safe and due to be headed out the next day. That would have to wait though since we were 2 days hard hiking from the nearest phone, not to mention we weren’t out of the proverbial “woods” yet anyway.
After cleaning the blood off the cape to prevent staining we took pictures and began the butchering. Having a sunny day with temps pushing the mid 60s caused a problem with the blow flies. Luckily the wind picked up enough to keep them at bay. The caping and butchering done we made a plan of attack for the next day on the mountain. We decided to head up stream and go at the hill from a different angle than we had come down. Once we found a spot the decision was made that I would finish caping and turning the hide while Darren went down valley with an empty pack and ascended the Mt to get our tents and gear. On his trip he bumped into the remaining 4 rams in the bottom of the valley, sending them into the safety of the cliffs.
The next morning was spent resting and finishing the turning and salting of the hide. As we were packing up camp 5 caribou felt that they should be allowed access through our area and hesitantly moved through about 100 yards from camp. The clouds and light rain had returned and we set off with 85-90lb packs at around noon. The 2,000 foot climb up was a repeat of the trip in, with times of rain and snow. We did bump a group of 6 rams on top at about 150 yards, with another full curl to look at and admire. We made good time, considering the weather and condition of our bodies, and were able to make the edge of the mountains by 9:30 that night. With 12 miles behind us and only 8 or so more miles ahead of us we started the next day slightly sore but anxious to beat the weather off the Mt. We spotted more bear, wolf and moose tracks in the flats but nothing more exciting than blistered feet and sore knees for the next 6 hours. We made the truck at 12:30 ending our four and a half day, 45 mile round trip trek for the “King of the Mountain”.
We took the horns to be sealed (registered) at the Fish and Game office that afternoon. He was the second longest at 37” with a 39.5” ram beating him for that honor, but his 14-14.25” bases beat the second best by a full inch and the third by an inch and a half. Taking into account his mass, which carries well all the way through (13” at the first quarter and 10.5” at the second), he was the best ram of the 18-20 registered so far. The average for this area is 34-35” horns with 12.5” bases. His rough Boone and Crockett score is 161” which just beats the 160” minimum for awards but after drying he is just shy of that honor, still a fine trophy in anyone’s book and to have “earned” him as we did only makes his 17.5lbs of horn that much more amazing.
The hunt is over, but the memories will remain until I die. Along with those memories two quotes by the best packer any man could have remain:
The first day as we were close to or experiencing hypothermia sitting in the wind in our cold, sweat drenched clothing. “Jesus we could die up here”
The second quote after we had made it out and on our drive into town: “Man we just got done living like wild f@#$ing animals for 5 days”
My answer to both was just a smile and simple “Yep”. I don’t take Darren as one to use profanity mildly but in describing these two situations the phases were spoken with pure truth and the enormity of the situation still made them huge understatements.
It's been 3 months and my body has recovered, yet my soul longs to “Live like a Wild F@#$ing Animal” in the Mountains again. Here’s to the memories, pain, triumph and fear experienced on one of the greatest adventures I’ve been able to be a part of.
I’d also like to take a moment to thank the sponsors of this adventure.
To Tylenol for providing me with my “vitamin T” everyday. You helped reduce the pain felt in my knee with each and every step on the way out from feeling like being stuck with a 4 inch blade to only being stuck with a 3” blade.
To Meindl boots for only giving me 2 black toenails and no blisters bigger than 3” in diameter.
To Yamaha 4 wheelers for giving me the opportunity to hike an additional 12 miles in bear and wolf infested woods with a 55lb and 85lb pack. :BLEEP:
To Mountain house freeze dried dinners for not letting me starve, even though it was a toss up at times.
To Garmin GPS for actually being right even though I swore and cursed you for being wrong most of the time. |oo
To Crooked Creek backpacks for making a pack, that although rated for 75lbs could not withstand the rigors of this hunt. Yet was built to allow a man with a needle and a little dental floss the ability to sew the shoulder strap and belt back on. :MAD
And to my biggest sponsor, my wife, for not killing me for trying to kill myself.
