I wonder if a season could go better. I really doubt it. This would be my tenth year going for a Ram. When I started out I had only a pair of binoculars that suited the type of hunting I was about to start into. Aside from them, all my other gear has changed due in part to some great mentoring from a friend and his Dad. To them I am forever grateful. I think back to that little daypack I used to carry up the mountains. It was painful to carry lunch and a jacket in let alone if I had gotten a Ram!
In the beginning, I would meet up with my Brother in law. He is in my eyes a very fortunate kid. His Dad and Uncles were all avid sportsmen. Four of them having scored on Sheep. :cool: When I was first invited to go Sheep hunting I thought he was crazy to invite me. My desire was there but I by nature am not a great outdoorsman like he and his family are. He reassured me it would be good to go. He has the stamina of a Sheep himself and it was all I could do trying to keep up. I'll never forget that first trip I went with him. It was a very long day and where the heck were all these Sheep? Could it really be this hard? We saw one 3/4 curl that first year and that would be the only one I would see during an open Sheep season for some time to come.
My BIL became too tied down with work to be able to go play so I would be on my own. Still very poorly prepared other than a spotting scope in that painful little pack now. Not knowing the areas very well I dare not do any exploring but what I knew for sure. I had lots of fun but still in a hunting situation like that I wished many times to be up there with someone who could teach me the ropes. One does not just find a Sheep hunting friend.
They need to have the same kind of desire as you do, the same drive and ability to help you want to walk over that next ridge just by seeing that excitment in their eye knowing they could be just over there. Enter the 'crazy davey'. He was crazy enough to invite me along last year to look for a pair of Rams. Again I was very intimidated having next to no high country experience other than knowing I had a big need to get some decent gear and an incurable desire to get a Ram. That would be season nine we were coming up to and still I had yet to see a legal ram in season that wasn't in a santuary.
After doaling out quite a fair bit of cash for better gear under davey's direction and him loaning me gear as well I was at least set up that way to go more prepared. Only thing left was to prove I had the mettle. We took of for nine days I think with his Dad in search of a Ram or two if we were real lucky. I had no problem helping davey find one if it meant I had even a glimmer of hope to get one myself.
That was the first time I had been on a pack trip of that nature. A 60lb pack on your back with everything in it to keep you alive for the duration. We covered nearly 80kms that trip. That is all on foot, setting spike camp and then heading off in different directions each day scouring this new area. What an experience:cool:, we learned quite a bit about the area and learned well the frustration of big Rams who live in the thick timber only to come out and step in your footprints after dark for you to find the next day. That was the story of our lives last year.
Now both on our tenth year after rams we were both more determined than ever. By this time I had found two "pick ups" (ram skulls) and three or more Ewe skulls. The ram skulls hold great memories for me as I found each one of them on the same day as each of our kid baby showers. The kids have theirs, but I still wanted mine. ;D As a bonus I had scored on getting my NT Sheep draw. How could we come home empty? We had to get something this year right?
First night out we set up camp after a late start. Not training like I did last year was showing. By the time they decided where to camp I was still trying get to their position. Not good. We enjoyed a beautiful first night with a full moon to give us light. The pics aren't great but gone are the days where I will lug my SLR around.
The second day we hauled ourselves further up the valley and found a great meadow to pitch camp. We got camp set and davey headed off to check one part of the valley while his Dad and I climbed the scree to look into the next bowl. Very carefully we krept over the rim and looked down a very steep drainage. "Dad's" keen eyes picked up movement at the bottom and he confirmed them to be good rams. They offered him only a short glimpse so he could not tell how big or if they were even legal for sure. It was all we needed though. After looking at a fat Muley Buck feed not far from our tent we descended back to our valley.
We made plans and broke camp first thing in the morning. After a grueling session of bush whacking we arrived at the next valley drainage and pitched camp. Along the way finding a nice drop from a Mule Deer.
Camp was set in half the time as we were on a mission this time. We struck out for the drainage as soon as the evening breeze changed direction to blow in our favor. Our trail climbed quickly and soon we could see the high slopes opening above us. The excitement builds. Where are they? Up on a shelf watching you...had they caught our scent from above the night before and left altogether? We had no way to know, you just have to hope they are still there.
We came half way up the valley, paralleling the creek using the timber to cover our movement. A loud crack shocked us from the other side of the creek not far away. At first I thought it was a gunshot and could not figure out how anyone could have seen them. Then it all came clear. It was the rams in the timber butting heads not 80 yards from our position. They only did it once but it will make you keenly aware of any sound after that!
We were at a position in the valley where the rams were cross wind from us. They had come down from their lofty perch to have a drink from the creek which was lucky for us. Otherwise they would have spotted us coming up the valley. The three of us sat in the timber waiting to see what would happen next. If we moved at all the slightest change could have them getting wind of us and it would be all over. After 15 minutes or so, I was getting severe monkey butt. Without and warning there were heavy footfalls right in front of me. I was no more than 30yds from the creek and the Rams scurried up the far side right in front of me and were in the timber before I could even get my gun up. Like ghosts they were gone in the timber as fast as they showed themselves. I don't know if davey and Dad saw them but I was a babbling idiot (whispering) "they're right here in front of me!!!!!!!!"
Not five minutes later they could both be seen climbing the scree high above us, grazing a bit and giving eachother a hard time for who got the best bed for the night. I got over to the other two and we made plans for the stalk.
Dad stayed back at the observation position with our packs. davey and I geared down. Taking only our binos and rifles and extra shells so we could be as stealthy as possible in the timber. We made our way up to the edge of the spruce and were still quite a fair juant away from them. They stood broadside, high above us not having any idea anything was afoot.
I had not to this point looked at the rams though an optic so we figured out which one davey would shoot and which one was mine. davey would shoot first and as his Ram fell the other would look stunned at it and I would hammer mine. Good plan but it was not to be. Only one of them went down and I still wish it had been from davey's 300 saum and not my 7x57. You have to understand, he lives this 365 days a year. I wanted him to score on his Ram even more than to get one for myself just so he could reap some reward for his efforts. The last shot he fired at his had a tremendous thump to it like a very hard hit. With mine already down and daylight fading we agreed I should get to the top asap to see if he did connect with his ram.
That slope was treacherous and getting only worse the higher we got. The large scree was unstable and took all I had to scramble up it. I got to my Ram and he had already expired. I wanted to enjoy that moment but I knew I had to get to the top. davey got up to my ram and waited there. I got to the top but there was no sign at all. The knot in my stomach started as I came back down the 200yds to where davey was knowing only one ram was down. It was a relief to know the other one was not wounded but still hardly how it was planned to unfold.
Anyone who has climbed into the high country knows as soon as the sun drops behind a peak it gets dark four times as fast as in the foothills. We had no choice but to leave my Ram on the hill to return first thing in the morning. I wanted to stay up there for the night but they wisely talked me out of it. A good nights sleep and belly full of food would be much more help the next day. That night was full of mixed feelings. I knew davey was disappointed. I was excited to have gotten my Ram but felt bad for him. He knew the impotance of the occasion though and told me I'd best brighten up as this was a time to celebrate and it is just how it works out some times. He's a pretty good kid ya know.
We were back up there in the morning and it took that long for it to hit home. What a gorgeous Ram, more than I had ever hoped of connecting with.
Nice heavy bases, dark cape and that classic busted up Roman nose just make for the perfect Ram IMO.
Dad lost count of how many times I fell down while carrying that load down the slope on that scree. He got up to 15 though. I was so exhausted. I had fallen down the night before just before getting down to davey. My beloved Brno went dancing down the hill, aquiring a broken butt plate, a hefty crack at the toe and damage to the scope as you will see. It broke my heart to have that happen but at the same time if it had to happen I could think of no better hunt to be on. I will look at those marks with fond memories believe it or not. Aside from replacing that butt plate it will proudly show those marks indefinately.
I was worried the scope would be off kilter and removed it when we got back to camp that night. Once I got home I clamped it back on and gave it a try. You be the judge of whether it needs adjustment or not. I would happily put this scope on every rifle I own. Once you get used to it there isn't anything it could not do the others can. I wonder if my VXIII could have taken this kind of beating and still held zero as well. Maybe, but I have never took a spill like this before. My arm was black and blue and knees not much better.
The next day had me at camp fleshing out the skull and the cape. davey even got to patch me up when I tried to remove part of my finger with the knive. To say that was a "bleeder" is an understatement. It would litterally pour out with the vien being cut nicely in two. Thanks goodness for thier first aid kits.
Not much else was to be seen in that valleys so we packed up and made for the rendevous point where we would get picked up by our ladies. We had close to 15km to haul that beast out on our backs. No one can ever say you don't earn your Ram. And "Dad", you know I had the heaviest pack going in and coming out.
So what of the Ewe? Well if you can stand to read my pathetic grammar any more stick around for the second chapter.
Having waited for six or more years to get drawn for the NT Sheep put it very high on my list to get the tag filled. I was bummed out to not have seen a single one while out on our Ram trip. I went for a day trip by myself only to get rained on, soaked to the bone and then have a Ewe with twins come up to me. In my books any Ewe that can raise two lambs deserves a medal. I could not shoot her, in my opinion it was not moral or ethical so I let her go. No other Ewe's open or with lambs passed by me.
Well if they want to play hardball I am game.
My other BIL Dan missed getting his Antelope draw this year and was dragging his lip pretty hard. While not expressing too much excitement over the years about Sheep hunting he sure did not think about it long when I offered to take him along for my Ewe. You never know, a Ram could be close by! This past Wednesday we headed out to an area neither of us had been. davey being very busy with work was not able to go.
The day started out nice enough, scattered clouds but after two hours the wind kicked it up a couple notches below hurricane force and sprinkled in some snow on top to make for downright nasty conditions. Had I not been out on the two excursions with davey I would not have felt confident in this predicament at all. It was BAD! You can't hardly tell but the winds here are about 70km/hr and although sunny the snow was pelting really hard.
We hiked up to a small lake and by the time we had the tent set up the wind had calmed a bit. Again we ditched everything and looked around but there was no sign of Sheep being there recently at all. Hard to tell though with three inches of snow moving everywhere. That night the temp dropped to at least -20C and the open lake froze over with 1/2" of ice. This is where you thank the Good Lord for a $500 sleeping bag. It was chilly still but we were able to sleep pretty good.
The next morning we pulled camp and went to a totally different area. The trail was on a constant downhill grade leaving me to wonder how hard it would be to haul something out of there. We would find out just how hard. Again we were back packing, no Ponies, no St Bernards and no spitting Alpaccas.
We stopped for lunch and I glassed a hill. Lo and behold there's Sheep on them thar hills!:eek::runaway: We pounded our lunch and set off down the valley. The tent would be set up at the base of the mountain they were feeding on. We giggled at their bright white butts on the hill above us as we set up. So sure we were.......:rolleyes:
We get camp set and minimize our packs, all ready to go just one last look at those sheep.....hey what the...... where'd they go?:runaway::rolleyes:
Lesson learned, always have one guy watching where the Sheep are going no matter what!
I could not find them but ten cannot hide too easily or so I thought. We made out way to the bottom of the mountain. The wind was horid. Up, down left to right with no reason to it at all. How could we possibly climb this hill and get the upper hand. No good but we had to try. Halfway up there I decided we should go more to the left and then angle right as we climbed. It turned out in our favor.
As I came around a pine tree at near tree line there 40yds away was a little 3/4 curl ram. Only his head and neck visible he was acting sentry for the band. He had not seen me and I motioned to Dan to stop. I was in plain view and while I very slowly tried to rock back behind the tree he spotted me. We stared back and forth for an eternity, then he jumped up and looked around real nervous like. I don't think he smelt us but he was concerned for sure.
He ran to the left as did I to find him glaring at us again. Dan behind me not able to see anything yet and feeling pretty anxious about it. A very pale Ewe stepped out left of the Ram and I told Dan I would be shooting. The report of the bullet was a very soft whack on impact. It confirmed I had pulled the shot back a bit, as did my binos to see a small trickle of blood farther back than I would have liked. She came in the open again and this time the shot was true, she was piled into the side of the mountain and did not try to get up.
The rest of the band just stood there in shock as did we. They slowly walked away up over the scree slope over the next ten minutes at least, none of them running. It was a very strange experience to say the least. There were no other rams in the group so we had alot of work to do. It would be dark in about 40 minutes!
Call me strange but I have studied Sheep out of season alot to learn how to score the horns, even the Ewes for comparision sake. If anyone out there can back me up or whatever but this seems like a pretty fair set of horns for a Ewe does it not? Haven't done any measurements but it seems to be 8 or 9 years old.
I can't resist putting this picture of Dan up. Just to confirm, yes that is his 375 Ruger he is packing and yes that is a bipod on that toad too.:sniper:
Mmmmmmm 12lb sheep hunting rifle.
We got her cut up and everything by dark and had to use the head lamps to come down off the moutain. By 2am I had finished fleshing the skull by a nice warm fire. The snow started again so we retired and then got up at 8am to pack up camp. Here are some pics.
Dan had packed his hat under the meat for the ride down the mountain.
I had the brainwave that keeping the whole hide would be a cool idea. It was, but to haul it 15km with meat is not nearly so cool. :redface:
We knew the packs were heavy and guessed them to be about 70lbs.
When we got home the scale came out just for entertainment value. They were 74 and 75lbs. That may not sound like a lot. Considering we walked mostly uphill out to the car it was brutal for me anyway. It did the whole trip in 4 hours, 10 minutes including stops. Took two days for my legs to recover from that little trip. Ouch!
The snow squals lasted most of the time going out. Out camp having the least amount maybe 2 inches where it had not blown away and then the car has five inches on it, heavier and more moisture to it.
That pretty much sums up the first trips of the year. Spent with some of my best friends I consider myself pretty blessed to get to share the experience with them. I can wait to help them wrap a tag around theirs. It will be just as exciting if not more.
Thanks for stopping by to read.