I had a successful week of sheep hunting in unit 27-4. I set up camp alone the day before the opener and went out glassing for a hour before dark. First spot I looked at and I had Rams in the glasses, what a shock. 5 Rams and one was very nice. I watched until dark and had a hard time sleeping that first night.
Day 1;
Woke up to snow and heavy mist. The sheep were heading to the top of a ridge the night before, so I went around the mountain and came up over the top. Wind tricked me, as did the terrain, since I thought the mountain layed one way and turned out another when I crested. Hunted the area that day without seeing any sheep. I did see 2 goats when the over cast skies allowed. Altitude is kicking my butt, but getting everywhere I want, just a bit slower than when I was younger.
Day 2;
More snow and overcast skies. Hunted another drainage and looked into some fresh area for me without seeing sheep. Tough terrain, working 9000' and up. Lungs are feeling a bit better.
Day 3;
More snow and very heavy fog. Stayed in the tent until 11:30am and read Jack O'Conner stories to keep the spirit up for the job ahead. Skies cleared and headed to another new likely spot. 10,000' and body is getting used to the altitude and hiking well. So well in fact, that I went up over a ridge and into 8 rams before they, or I, knew what happened. Here we are staring at each other with a stupid look on my face. I slowly sit down and get my binos up and there are 5 mature rams in the bunch. They are looking at me, but don't seemed all that worried, so I start getting my spotting scope out to judge which to take. Boom, off they go, I grab the rifle and have the lead ram in the scope, man he looks nice, but not the ram of my dreams. I watch them run off around the mountain and up the next before even looking back. Wow, they can really move! Damn, did I make a mistake?
Day 4;
Laying in bed in the early AM beating myself up that I screwed up and didn't take that ram last night. Feeling tired and beat. Head out of camp and climb for a few minutes and spot the group from the very first night. Get the spotting scope on them and there is the big ram again. I watch for a while and see he has a bad rear leg. He bedded down and so did his posse', now I feeling on top of the world, and then realize I need to climp there...over around the mountain I climp. 3 hours to get above then and another hour to scramble down 150 yards to get within 200 yards of them. I saw the smaller full curl ram once during stalk, but that is all. Once I was where I thought I was above them, I dug myself a small pit to keep from falling off the mountain and waited for them to make an appearance. 8 hours later, darkness fell on my twisted cramped form without seeing hide nor hair. Good thing there was whiskey in camp, because I needed it that night.
Day 5;
Last day of this hunt for me as I'm helping a friend build his house over the holiday weekend. Up and adam early with the last of the ibuprofen washed down with some coffee and a red eyed glance at the much depleted whiskey bottle, I'm ready for anything. About 30 minutes into the day I spot my 5 rams with old limpy in attendance. OK, I've tried hunting him from above twice without any luck. I'm going straight up at them this time.
They are 700 yards straight up according the the range finder and off I go. I head up a finger that parallels the one they are feeding on and wait for a bit as I felt they would feed over to my side. 1/2 hour later and I'm sick of waiting for sheep. Off I go across the scree fields making enough noise to wake Jack O'Conner himself and stumble into one of the small rams feeding at 250 yards away.
Down on my belly I go and snake crawled up when he wasn't looking. That lasted all of about 2 feet. He looks at me and lays down on a rock outcropping just staring a hole threw me. Screw him, I keep slithering up and see a couple more of the group. I see the younger full curl bedded down and have the cross hairs on him, 150 yards. Another 1/2 hour and 50 yards and I can see 4 of the group, but not limpy. Now the sun is straight in my scope and the thermals are changing in the wrong direction. Time to make something happen. I move off to the right and up a rock out cropping now within 70 yards of the group. Then the big guy, limpy, stands from behind a rock, takes a couple steps, I whistle, he stops quartering away and I pull the trigger. 300 win mag with 200 grain bullet, and he stands there just looking at me like nothing happened. I send another one and he crumbles dead. Turns out the first took out the top of the heart but hit nothing hard.
After looking at 13 Rams total for the week, 7 Rams that were 3/4+ curl, I killed a very nicely broomed and battered mature Ram. 15"+ bases and 37-1/4" horn length. His horns have some big chunks knocked off and has a ton of character. I haven't had him scored yet, but my inexperienced work with the tape came up with 177-6/8". I'm glad I waited. I had a vision for the last 30 years of what I wanted my sheep to be and he ended up fulfilling that dream.
Day 1;
Woke up to snow and heavy mist. The sheep were heading to the top of a ridge the night before, so I went around the mountain and came up over the top. Wind tricked me, as did the terrain, since I thought the mountain layed one way and turned out another when I crested. Hunted the area that day without seeing any sheep. I did see 2 goats when the over cast skies allowed. Altitude is kicking my butt, but getting everywhere I want, just a bit slower than when I was younger.
Day 2;
More snow and overcast skies. Hunted another drainage and looked into some fresh area for me without seeing sheep. Tough terrain, working 9000' and up. Lungs are feeling a bit better.
Day 3;
More snow and very heavy fog. Stayed in the tent until 11:30am and read Jack O'Conner stories to keep the spirit up for the job ahead. Skies cleared and headed to another new likely spot. 10,000' and body is getting used to the altitude and hiking well. So well in fact, that I went up over a ridge and into 8 rams before they, or I, knew what happened. Here we are staring at each other with a stupid look on my face. I slowly sit down and get my binos up and there are 5 mature rams in the bunch. They are looking at me, but don't seemed all that worried, so I start getting my spotting scope out to judge which to take. Boom, off they go, I grab the rifle and have the lead ram in the scope, man he looks nice, but not the ram of my dreams. I watch them run off around the mountain and up the next before even looking back. Wow, they can really move! Damn, did I make a mistake?
Day 4;
Laying in bed in the early AM beating myself up that I screwed up and didn't take that ram last night. Feeling tired and beat. Head out of camp and climb for a few minutes and spot the group from the very first night. Get the spotting scope on them and there is the big ram again. I watch for a while and see he has a bad rear leg. He bedded down and so did his posse', now I feeling on top of the world, and then realize I need to climp there...over around the mountain I climp. 3 hours to get above then and another hour to scramble down 150 yards to get within 200 yards of them. I saw the smaller full curl ram once during stalk, but that is all. Once I was where I thought I was above them, I dug myself a small pit to keep from falling off the mountain and waited for them to make an appearance. 8 hours later, darkness fell on my twisted cramped form without seeing hide nor hair. Good thing there was whiskey in camp, because I needed it that night.
Day 5;
Last day of this hunt for me as I'm helping a friend build his house over the holiday weekend. Up and adam early with the last of the ibuprofen washed down with some coffee and a red eyed glance at the much depleted whiskey bottle, I'm ready for anything. About 30 minutes into the day I spot my 5 rams with old limpy in attendance. OK, I've tried hunting him from above twice without any luck. I'm going straight up at them this time.
They are 700 yards straight up according the the range finder and off I go. I head up a finger that parallels the one they are feeding on and wait for a bit as I felt they would feed over to my side. 1/2 hour later and I'm sick of waiting for sheep. Off I go across the scree fields making enough noise to wake Jack O'Conner himself and stumble into one of the small rams feeding at 250 yards away.
Down on my belly I go and snake crawled up when he wasn't looking. That lasted all of about 2 feet. He looks at me and lays down on a rock outcropping just staring a hole threw me. Screw him, I keep slithering up and see a couple more of the group. I see the younger full curl bedded down and have the cross hairs on him, 150 yards. Another 1/2 hour and 50 yards and I can see 4 of the group, but not limpy. Now the sun is straight in my scope and the thermals are changing in the wrong direction. Time to make something happen. I move off to the right and up a rock out cropping now within 70 yards of the group. Then the big guy, limpy, stands from behind a rock, takes a couple steps, I whistle, he stops quartering away and I pull the trigger. 300 win mag with 200 grain bullet, and he stands there just looking at me like nothing happened. I send another one and he crumbles dead. Turns out the first took out the top of the heart but hit nothing hard.
After looking at 13 Rams total for the week, 7 Rams that were 3/4+ curl, I killed a very nicely broomed and battered mature Ram. 15"+ bases and 37-1/4" horn length. His horns have some big chunks knocked off and has a ton of character. I haven't had him scored yet, but my inexperienced work with the tape came up with 177-6/8". I'm glad I waited. I had a vision for the last 30 years of what I wanted my sheep to be and he ended up fulfilling that dream.
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