September 12
We talked about our options the previous night after returning to camp. We figured the small legal ram in the next drainage was still nearby, but there were 6 days left in my season. I wasn't willing to end it yet with a small ram. From previous scouting trips we knew of a herd of 6 rams in a valley 14 trail/bushwhacking miles away, with two legal rams that Doug and Dan had estimated at 38". Whether they were still there was anybody's guess. I decided I wanted to push for them. We broke camp in the morning and hit the trail. We had learned of another incoming storm the night before and hoped to make as much headway as we could before it arrived. Our goal for the day was the top of a pass which would put us within 4 miles of the valley where the rams had last been seen. There we would meet another guide, Hank, who would be hiking in from another trailhead with a restock of food for us. Hank would continue on with us until I got a ram, as he had finished up guiding goat hunters.
Doug and I descended the 2 miles and 2000' back down to the trail, then began the 8-mile, 2700' climb up the canyon to the rendezvous point with Hank. Approximately 5 miles into our trip I began to feel a pain on the inside of my right knee. I took some ibuprofen, but as I climbed the pain increased. The storm soon arrived and we were hiking in a steady, cold, wind-driven downpour.
With 3 miles and 1500' of climbing to do, I was beginning to doubt I was going to make it. The pain in my knee was bad going uphill, but excruciating every time I took a step downhill. I was using both hands on my trekking pole to take as much weight as possible off of each step. It was extremely frustrating as I felt my chances at a ram slip away with every step. We finally made it to the meeting point shortly after 7pm. Hank arrived about 20 minutes later. I ate some more ibuprofen with dinner and went to bed hoping I would feel better in the morning, but doubtful.
September 13
We took our time getting around the next morning. I tried out my knee and found it to be extremely stiff, but free of pain. I hiked up and down the hill near camp a bit and decided that we needed to continue. It was still raining lightly and appeared to be snowing up high. We didn't get out of camp until almost 12:30. We had to drop about 800' in elevation to get to the creek we needed to hike up. Then it was over 2000' up to a high pass and down into the head of another drainage. By the time we got to the top of the pass it was fogged in and snowing. Dan had told us that we just had a relatively short and steep shale slide to go down to get to where we wanted to camp. He said we couldn't get in trouble. We began down the other side in 50' visibility in the fog. The steep shale slope was getting icy and snow was beginning to stick. Soon we were coming upon cliffs, and there appeared to be a glacier below that. We made our way back to the top and talked about what to do. Although we were only 0.8 mile from where we wanted to camp, we decided that the best thing to do was to camp in the pass and wait until we could see where we were going.
The idea of camping in the pass was not pleasant. As you know, it is the windiest spot you could pick, and the wind does tend to blow during those Alaska storms. We found a circular pile of stacked rocks where somebody had camped in the past and set up our tent within that minimal protection. We rocked everything down
heavily, including the entire bottom edge of the rainfly, and climbed in our sleeping bags. Hank forgot to bring the stove in and none of us wanted to venture back out into the miserable weather, so dinner was peanut butter sandwiches. My knee had held up remarkably well throughout the day. A few twinges of pain here and there, but I kept myself well medicated.
It snowed until about 3am.
September 14 (4 days left of the season)
Although it snowed most of the night, it didn't amount to too much. But it was cold when we got up!
We walked over and looked down the slope we had abandoned the night before. Once again, the pictures don't do the steepness justice:
After packing up camp we found a way down through the rocks. The shale was extremely slick with the covering of snow and ice, but we made it down safely. Here are a couple of pics looking back up to the pass. Our trail is barely visible in the first, and obvious in the second.
We found a good spot to set up camp, dried everything out, had a hot meal and then set out to climb up and over into the next drainage to our south where the rams had last been seen. We left camp about 1:30pm. Here's a look back at camp from the divide between the drainages:
Doug and Hank up on the divide where we began glassing for sheep:
We found two rams and two goats bedded together almost immediately. A quick look showed one legal ram and one that we were unsure about. We were pretty sure that the bigger of the two was one the the 38" rams Dan and Doug had seen the week before the season. He was dark-horned, somewhat tightly curled and carried good mass through the first two quarter measurements. His right horn was broomed back to just short of full curl. I decided that if we could make it happen I would be darned happy to take him home.
The rams and goats were bedded out on a bald green knob in the middle of the valley (in the middle of this picture, with the small pond on top):
Here's a bad close-up view. The two goats and smaller ram are obvious on the right side of the knob. The bigger ram is harder to see, bedded at 10 o'clock from the others, about 100 yards away:
At first look, we thought it would be relatively easy to get within rifle range. However, they were bedded there for a reason. Hank thought that if we got to the black moraine ridge visible in the first photo between the rams' knob and the closeup rock we would be in range. I was skeptical, but we decided to give it a try. It was very easy to get down there, but as I chambered a round and slowly peeked over the edge of the moraine, disappointment set in. The rams were still over 800 yards away! Distances are deceiving in that country.
By this time the goats had fed out of sight over the knob, leaving only two sets of eyes to contend with. We discussed possible options, but the only one that seemed like it had a chance of working was to drop back down into the creek we just crossed and try to slip downstream along the creek until we were low enough to be out of sight of the rams, which were now bedded together right on top of the knob. Then we could sneak across the main creek bottom to the base of their hill and hopefully get up on them for a shot.
We made our way down the creek but quickly ran out of cover. We had made it out of sight of the small ram, but the big ram was right on top and facing our direction. It was now after 5pm, and we discussed our options. We thought about backing out without spooking them and trying again in the morning, but there were so many things that could go wrong before the next day we quickly scrapped that idea. It was now or never. We decided to play a game of cat-and-mouse with the ram. He would occasionally lower his head to the ground and close his eyes, or turn away, towards the out-of-sight ram. We would watch him until he did this, then while the third guy watched the ram, the first two would sneak down the hill a bit and stop, watch the ram while the third guy came down, then repeat. By doing this, we were able to make it into the creek bottom and out of sight without alerting the ram.
We quickly hurried across the creek and back upstream until we had the wind in our favor to begin climbing the hill. I was going to go most of the way up before dropping my pack and crawling to the top. The ram would be close if it worked...within 200 yards. Now it was getting exciting! As we began climbing the steep slope, with Hank in the lead, me in the middle and Doug in the rear, I kept my eyes on the hilltop where I knew the ram lay just out of sight. Suddenly he was standing there, staring down at us only 200 yards away! I hissed at the other two to stop, but we were busted. I threw my pack down on a rock, jacked a shell in the chamber and flopped across the pack. As I picked up the ram in the scope, he turned, took three steps and was out of sight.