My Sheep Horns Come Home:
When I was about 10 years old I would go with my dad to an older gentlemen’s home , there we would drool over his collection of Indian and Calvary artifacts, most found in the Pass area where he homesteaded many years prior.
One day he told us of the local legend of how two hunters (his relatives I suspect) found, harvested, or otherwise stashed two ram heads in a cave ,covering them with rocks somewhere on the back side of King Mountain. It would have been sometime in the 1930’s or there about .Now this mountain is one huge nasty, gnarly, giant of a rock and extends for several miles.
I was mesmerized by the story of hidden treasure and spent many hours contemplating a plan for exploring ,mapping and finding the” Hidden Rams” several failed attempts netted nothing but sore feet. When I reached the ripe old age of thirteen the word of a mountain lion killing livestock in the area surfaced and my Dad being a hound’s man loaded my brother and me up and with backpacks and hounds in tow or rather us in tow, we headed up King Mountain for several days. As we climbed up a rocky canyon headed for the top, I spied one more cave to explore. I can still remember the feelings like it was yesterday as I shouted “I found them “ and hurriedly moving a rock pile, pulled out a beautiful full curl set of Ram Horns.
Now my Dad informed me if I wanted them I had to pack them out, which would double the weight of my pack. I would have gladly left my sleeping bag in exchange for my treasure. It was a difficult hike up hill for the rest of the day and the remainder of the trip, but I got home with my horns and they found a place of prominence in my bed room for many years and were my most priced possession.
It didn’t take long for word to spread that I had proved the legend true and sometime later a local hunter and sheep expert by the name of Vern offered to buy the horns and pressed me for the whereabouts of the cave and the second set of horns. I of course was not interested in selling my horns or divulging the location of the cave.
Several years later I found myself a poor broke college student and Vern caught me at a weak moment and I sold him the horns and mapped out the cave location. Soon after, I realized my loss and deeply regretted my decision. I attempted several times throughout the years to buy back the horns, but Vern and rightfully so, refuse to sell them, he had invested a considerable amount of money in cosmetics and turning the horns into a beautiful mount and they were part of his wonderful sheep collection, which for several years he displayed at the Eastern Idaho State Fair where I go to see and even touch my horns.
About a year ago our paths crossed as we swapped tales of Steelhead fishing, and I once again asked if the horns were for sale, he just laughed. I then asked if he would do me a favor and consider remembering me in his will and leaving the horns to me., once again a snicker.
Last week on April 1 2010, Vern called and we discussed a little fishing and then he asked if I would drive over to he and Ann’s place he wanted to see me, so I did, after a short visit he left the room and to my amazement returned with the horns and told me he wanted me to have them, I cannot explain in words how I felt at that moment. Now I have harvested several trophies by pulling a trigger or setting s hook and each one has a special place on my wall. I honestly do not believe that I could feel any more proud of this ram or could it mean any more to me if I would have actually shot it.
All I can say is, after thirty years, MY ram has come home…
When I was about 10 years old I would go with my dad to an older gentlemen’s home , there we would drool over his collection of Indian and Calvary artifacts, most found in the Pass area where he homesteaded many years prior.
One day he told us of the local legend of how two hunters (his relatives I suspect) found, harvested, or otherwise stashed two ram heads in a cave ,covering them with rocks somewhere on the back side of King Mountain. It would have been sometime in the 1930’s or there about .Now this mountain is one huge nasty, gnarly, giant of a rock and extends for several miles.
I was mesmerized by the story of hidden treasure and spent many hours contemplating a plan for exploring ,mapping and finding the” Hidden Rams” several failed attempts netted nothing but sore feet. When I reached the ripe old age of thirteen the word of a mountain lion killing livestock in the area surfaced and my Dad being a hound’s man loaded my brother and me up and with backpacks and hounds in tow or rather us in tow, we headed up King Mountain for several days. As we climbed up a rocky canyon headed for the top, I spied one more cave to explore. I can still remember the feelings like it was yesterday as I shouted “I found them “ and hurriedly moving a rock pile, pulled out a beautiful full curl set of Ram Horns.
Now my Dad informed me if I wanted them I had to pack them out, which would double the weight of my pack. I would have gladly left my sleeping bag in exchange for my treasure. It was a difficult hike up hill for the rest of the day and the remainder of the trip, but I got home with my horns and they found a place of prominence in my bed room for many years and were my most priced possession.
It didn’t take long for word to spread that I had proved the legend true and sometime later a local hunter and sheep expert by the name of Vern offered to buy the horns and pressed me for the whereabouts of the cave and the second set of horns. I of course was not interested in selling my horns or divulging the location of the cave.
Several years later I found myself a poor broke college student and Vern caught me at a weak moment and I sold him the horns and mapped out the cave location. Soon after, I realized my loss and deeply regretted my decision. I attempted several times throughout the years to buy back the horns, but Vern and rightfully so, refuse to sell them, he had invested a considerable amount of money in cosmetics and turning the horns into a beautiful mount and they were part of his wonderful sheep collection, which for several years he displayed at the Eastern Idaho State Fair where I go to see and even touch my horns.
About a year ago our paths crossed as we swapped tales of Steelhead fishing, and I once again asked if the horns were for sale, he just laughed. I then asked if he would do me a favor and consider remembering me in his will and leaving the horns to me., once again a snicker.
Last week on April 1 2010, Vern called and we discussed a little fishing and then he asked if I would drive over to he and Ann’s place he wanted to see me, so I did, after a short visit he left the room and to my amazement returned with the horns and told me he wanted me to have them, I cannot explain in words how I felt at that moment. Now I have harvested several trophies by pulling a trigger or setting s hook and each one has a special place on my wall. I honestly do not believe that I could feel any more proud of this ram or could it mean any more to me if I would have actually shot it.
All I can say is, after thirty years, MY ram has come home…
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