I spent a bit of time with the binos, but was limited on what I could see. Below this smaller high grassy basin, was a huge basin (will call sheep basin) full of sheep looking country, cliffs, leges, feed, water, it had it all, they could be anywhere.
Knowing my game plan, I decided that I need to back out of there, and move camp, once again. I needed to be able to see into the whole basin, the best place for camp from what I can see from up here, would be that gorgeous looking lake down lower in the valley, secretly, it had been calling my name since I first laid eyes on it moments prior.
I headed back down the ridge to the steep slide, somehow, my 1.5L water bottle, worked it’s way out of my back (had it strapped on top), I heard a plunk, and rocks slide, there goes my only hard water bottle, ass over teakettle, catching air off every big rock it hit. I watched it until it finally came to rest, about 300’ below me.
see it??
Positive that it would be blown apart, to my surprise, it was still full!! It took a hell’ova beating, but was still solid and watertight, got lucky!!
Bean and I wondered back to our gear we dropped earlier, watched the ridge, but didn’t see a thing the rest of the evening. I waited until just before dark to set up my tent, luckily, I had enough daylight, because I left my headlight in the truck grrr, along with one of the, from what I was soon about to learn, most important pieces of mountain hunting equipment, ohhh you’ll hear about it later...
Smoke!! Woke up early to the smell of smoke. Every day so far had been pretty clear, except a big thunder storm that rolled through the day before, which sparked a fire just north of my from what I understood via inreach. I spent all day glassing every direction, often looking down at that bigger lake about a km down the valley. From that lake, I thought to myself, "I would be able to see in that whole basin".
A phrase often came to mind, that Iv heard from successful sheep hunters, “don’t camp where the rams are”, this was a tough call, but I thought if I could find a tree patch to get my tent behind, that I’d be golden. Between myself and my dog, we don't make a lot of movement, she's as mellow as the come when it us two alone. Meanwhile also in the back of my mind, “this is day 2 of the season, I wonder if anyone else is down there watching these same rams”.
With no sheep sightings on this day, my plan was made, big lake bound tomorrow.
August 4
5am, coffee, captain black, and a quick glass around, I broke down camp and made our way towards the lake. within a hour, we were in sight.
It was all downhill so within a couple/few hours, we were at the far end of the lake, and “sheep basin” was hanging, beautifully up above the other end of the lake.
picture taken above the lake a bit, ram basin straight ahead, the high grass basin to the top right, ram ridge, behind the peak on the far right.
It didn’t take long to find the be all end all camp spot. A, U shaped patch of 10’-15’ high balsam, with a great big rock in it to, puts me in perfect glassing position, 99.9% out of sight of the basin, and 2 minutes from water.
ram basin straight ahead
With camp out of sight, I quickly set up my tent and emptied my gear into it, grabbed my spotter and rifle, and went to get some elevation beside camp, so I could see into “Ram basin”. Once again, within minutes I had the 3 rams located. This time tho, they were on the total other side of the basin in a high saddle on the skyline, as a crow flies, this basin is about 1000 yards across. I have no idea if they seen me hike in or not, but for now, I was pinned down in camp.
It wasn’t long until the young ram and middle Ram started to feed down into the basin, the big ram, had other plans. He headed up the skyline, heading towards the back of the basin. He went up a few hundred yards, and stopped, and waited. Like a couple kids, about a hour later, the young and middle Ram made their way up and joined the big ram, who then lead them around the skyline to the back end of the basin.
The wind was crazy that day, they ducked in behind some rocks just before dark and disappeared.
This evening, as I was getting my pack ready for morning, is when I realized what I had forgotten, as mentioned earlier.
Normally I find these stories weeks after the fact and can read the whole thing at one time. Now I'm hooked and have to wait for more! Great writing, great pictures, loving every minute of it. Thankyou for taking the time to share.
Iv put in countless hours of hand loading and range time, and am very confident out to 400 yards, even 450 in the right circumstances with my rifle. I know my rifles drops like the back of my hand, but, there is one important piece of equipment, that I need to be able to accomplish those longer shots.... you guessed it, my range finder!! It was in the console of my truck, totally slipped my mind. That stress level just went up a bit. I practiced extensively at those ranges kinda in preparation of having to take a longer shot, having my dog with me. Stalking rams, isn't like stalking black bears, but I guess we will just have to figure it out.
When you hear, “best learn to sheep hunt with someone who’s done it”, listen to it!! I generally head to the hills and leave stress behind. For a green guy, trying to call “legal”’on these rams, was driving me nuts. And now, no range finder!? I’m pretty good at judging out to 300’ish yards, while being sighted in for 200, there’s not a lot of wiggle room if I have to shoot past that 300 yard mark, especially when steep angles are in effect.
Morning of August 5
My plan for today was to hike up into ram basin, and just sit, and wait. I know they’ve been feeding and moving through there, I just need to be in the right spot, at the right time. The dog and I are up 4:45 am and ready to go. Only to find the rams out and feeding, where? Right where I expected them to be, but did not expect them there until I was situated in the rocks, 200 yards below that spot. I’d guess they were about 1500 yards behind camp, up high feeding up towards the grassy basin. I watched them for a hour or so, gave me time for a stiff coffee and a couple captains. I was nervous, shaking inside kind of nervous. I knew today was going to be the day, I had them patterned for the most part, their right where I thought they would be....how could it go wrong, right?.... I just need to get there, undetected.
As soon as the third ram fed out of sight into the hi grassy basin, we hauled! I planned on getting right up close to the side of the mountain the rams were on, way down out of sight, side hill the length of the lake, then wiggle our way up the cliffy creek bottom, into ram basin. I found a perfect Little Rock wall that would make a good rest, and perfect cover for my dog and I. By 9 am, we were sitting tight, 200-300 yards from where the rams had fed past 3 hours earlier.
Knowing I had to still make a “legal” call, saying stress wasn’t getting the best of me, I’d be lying. I started getting those second thoughts, thinking back to successful ram hunter quotes “if you gotta think twice, let him walk” , “never mind counting rings if your new, go by curl”, all these were going through my mind, neither of these rams were a “no brainer” kinda ram, from what I could tell. The big ram, to this day I am 99.9% sure he was a old ram. Iv often heard that sheep in region 6, often reach age before curl, this also kept running through my mind. Taking a mature animal, regardless of a ram or a Billy is important to me, age over size is kinda how I roll, or least would prefer to roll.
pointing up towards high grass basin, focused and ready
Every hour, felt like a day. Knowing there’s rams, just up there, just out of sight, we sat there until about noon. Finally, those patients, damn things, I couldn’t sit anymore, I had to go look up over the hill into the high grass basin. If their anywhere in there, even if their bedded on ram ridge like the first 2 days, they will be in range. It only took us half hour to sneak up to the point of seeing into the grass basin. Every 15-20’, Bean, sit, stay, as I crawl a little further, pan around with my binos, looking for signs of horns. I soon come to realize, the rams were know where around, nothin. Automatically, my thoughts, I spooked them, they seen me, I didn’t see them, their gone, chit.
Like any successful sheep hunter tho, giving up isn’t in the cards. I didn’t see them run over the mountain, possibly they just picked a different bed or feed spot this afternoon. We made our way back to the Little Rock ledge we were sitted behind, and waited, and waited and waited, and RAMS!! On the move, and fast, coming from the back of the basin, side hilling right towards bean dog and I. They came out in a total different spot then I expected, a little further then my 300 yard limit, more closer to 500’ish yards.
I had watched the middle Ram enough, that I knew he was full curl on his one side. Age, I didn’t know, but I was hoping to get a look and idea at a closer range before making the final call.
As the rams fed closer, the big ram was in the lead, I could see 3-4 huge deep rings in his horn through my spotter, but that was it. They were huge, bighorn huge, and rough, yet, the rough was smoothed off and shiny. Half way through his horn, was the same diameter as the middle rams bases, It was killing me, I knew he was mature, but, I couldn’t get that full curl, GRRR!!! This is when the stress kicked into over drive. Now is my chance, my rams are right there and coming, is he legal!? The middle Ram!? Is he of age!? He’s full curl, just take him, ok, it’s decided, middle Ram is target.
500 yards.... closer....closer...450...I think!?..... closer....425.....400...’ish... I think!? frik!! Right now is when another opinion would be nice, these are the stresses of solo hunting for a newbie sheep hunter.
With my rifle, I have a fare drop difference between 300 and 400 yards, the thought of a wounded ram, doesn’t sit well with me. I had the perfect setup, I kept my cool (on the outside), my dog hadn’t moved from her perch, watching the cliffs below us, she had no clue.
Disappointment, disappointment, is after 9 seasons, watching your ram feed up and up and away, close enough that if I had my equipment right, would have been a very doable shot for me. Bean dog and I hung out until about 9pm, in hopes. The rams ended up bedding about 600-700 yards up in the grassy ledges above. With no spot for a good stalk, we headed down hill towards camp, keeping out of sight of the rams. We rolled back into camp at 11 that night, normally I would have a hot rum on my mind, not tonight, I was in a funk, a bad funk. Ever try falling asleep after something like that? Being so close, and blowing it from a forgetful mistake.
The next morning I didn’t get up until close to 7 am. The weather was taking a turn. Clouds were getting low, and dark, wind picked up, it felt like a damp day. Bean had about 2 days of food left by now, I had 2-3 days of food, but was lacking in the coffee/sugar department (my heaviest comfort items). I decided to stay in camp for the day, I was still bummed out, I knew I had enough in me for one more good attempt, even if I had to sleep up in sheep basin, I was going to give it my all the next day. After coming so far, getting so close, having a compete and epic fail, redemption was the next card I had to pull.
I spent every waking second of August 6 behind the swarvo, studying and reading these rams. When I went back up into ram basin, I didn’t want to have to get behind the swarvo and start, second guessing myself again. By the end of the day, I was 100% convinced, the middle Ram is full curl, age unknown, but the big ram, he is coming home with me!
How I came up with this,
The middle Ram, constantly try’s kicking the big ram out of his bed, picks on him and pushes him out of feeding spots. The big ram stands up a bit for himself, in posture mostly, but doesn’t take action like a dominant tough ram would. The middle Ram is no 10+ year old ram, rather 8/9, possibly 7? (in my thoughts at the time), from his rough bases, but thinner horn, his pretty white face, and perkiness.
The middle Ram also pushes the young ram around (id guess to be 5/6 years old), the young ram tends to keep his distance. The little ram won’t touch the big ram, but the big ram will push the little ram around too. The big ram, huge, dark heavy horns, deep gouged annuli, dark in the face, big scar or rub across the bridge of his nose, walks like a stiff legged stud, and, anytime they made a big move, the big ram was the initiator. He has his tips still, but only thin out in the last 4-6” of his tips, heavy all the way through. One tip, may break the nose, but I’m not positive, I am positive tho, that he’s legal, and old.
Tonight, the night of August 6, I knew that by the 8th, we would be short on supplies and heading back towards the truck. Tonight was quite calming surprisingly, I was satisfied, I had found, watched and stalked a couple legal rams. I learnt more on this hunt, then Iv learnt in the last 9 seasons of sheep hunting.I laid in bed wondering where the rams would be in the morning, up high? Down low? Stalkable? Will it be storming? Foggy? The weather certainly wasn’t looking good.
The Day, again, I think....
5am, the jetboil gets its flame, the coffee is poured, spotter is up the captain is lit, rams.... where are you....
After looking in their regular areas and turning up nothing, I was kinda, frantic. I had to make it happen today. I step outside on my U shaped cover, and look lower.... and lower.... BAM! Well holy hell, their right there! Right at the end of my lake, I’d say, 700-800 yards away as a bullet would fly, bedded up just a bit on a gentle rock bluff, and of course, 2 of the 3 are looking my way, I’m pinned yet again.
Patience, out the back window. If I could close a little better then half that distance, I would be sittin pretty!
I through on my pack, grabbed my rifle, got my dog on leash, to be sure she didn’t mistakingly wonder, and we were headed for balsam patches. “Running through the willows where a rabbit wouldn’t go” is what I was singing in my head, as we stumbled tripped and tumbled through the patches. At the end of each patch, a quick glass to see who’s lookin, and a mad dash and jump into the next balsam patch. We managed to close into about 600 yards, when the big boy stood up, and slowly started feeding down the little grassy rock ledges, towards me, soon to be out of sight in a creek bottom, perfect!! Within minutes, the other two followed suite.
the red are the rams, the blue is my decided route, up and around.
In all my time in the mountains, Iv had some, “quick dashes” to get me or the shooter into position. This one, was the fastest hardest most heart pumping climb of my life. It wasn’t high, only about 1000-1200 ’ in elevation I had to gain but knowing the rams were feeding in that creek bottom, I had to get above them, and now!! It took no time before I was half way up, and level with where I last seen the rams, a few hundred feet to my right, and I’d be looking down into that creek where they went out of sight
Now, I have a decision to make. Did the rams feed into the creek bottom and hold up? Or did they continue feeding, heading up the creek? Do I go across this pinnacle and look down, or keep going up and around this pinnacle in hopes of cutting them off?
I thought forsure they would feed and head up that creek, so up I went, again at at pace Iv never kept before.
By the time I reached the top of the hill, It had been 30-40 minuets since I seen the rams, they could be anywhere now. I took my time creeping around this pinnacle type looking nob, one step at a time.... nothing...nothing...
They must have held up, and not fed up hill, as I crest around the edge of the pinnacle to see down into the creek bottom, there they are, way the F down there!! They fed right back to where they were bedded a few hours prior, and well, can you guess how far? Yeah, 400’ish yards. They all had their back to me, feeding up hill in the other side of the creek. I dropped my pack, and through my rifle over it, I was as steady as a shooting bench, but damnit, I can’t get a good judge on the distance, no shot!!
With the 3 rams with their backs to me, I start the bum scootch down the steep hill in the rams direction. Every 20’ or so, up with the binos, Ram asses, bum scootch!! Another 20-30’, binos up, Ram asses, bum scootch!! I managed to get to what I figured was 350-375 yards away, but the wind, it was blowing like mad, and on such a downhill slope, I couldn’t get a good rest, as the rams were nearly level with me now. There was a good hump in the ground, about 30-40 yards down the hill and towards the rams from my position, that would be a perfect setup. One more look through the binos, Ram asses, Bean, come! And to my feet I went, I think it only took my 5-6 leaps to cover the distance to the hump, and dove in like I was coming into home plate. Pulled my dog down beside me, now out of sight of the rams, I slowly pick my head up and peak over the mound..... eyes! 6 of them, all locked on me! My pack already unbuckled from my waist, I toss it on the grass mound and then my rifle, 325-350 yards, doable!! Except, as soon as I find the big ram in my cross hairs, all I see is ram ass, and this time, he’s running.
All 3 rams hi tailed it up the far side of the creek, way out of range. As I sat there watching, my heart was burning. My chance, blown, again. They were headed up hill and away from me, towards the back end of ram basin. It’s pure goat country back there, not a place to easily recover a ram, let alone, find him again. The biggest ram went over the saddle leading to the back end, then the middle Ram, then the young ram, who stopped to give me a look back, like a, CYA!!
It was now around 10:15am , I had the day still, but my rams were gone, long gone. That giving up thing, crossed my mind I admit, but it didn’t stick. Down that f’n hill I went in a roar and up the other side where the rams ran to. I decided to go around the hill rather then through the saddle that the rams left through, and by slim chance, maybe their held up on the backside of that saddle. I got to the bottom of the hill/nob and started going up through the rock slide, which lead straight up into no mans land. In my mind, I was 100% the rams ran clean over top and were gone, but if I didn’t climb up there and look for myself, it would be one of those smoulders that burns in your gut forever.
It was steep, wet, windy, and down right miserable. The rock I was about to climb, were the size of 3-5 gallon pails, and very unstable. The decision was made to leave bean dog behind for this last climb. I laid down some of her last grub, my last walking pole, tripod and a couple odds and ends, with a firm “stay”, she knew I meant business. Up I went, it was loud going, every step seemed to drop a couple rocks. I climbed up until I could see the back side of the saddle that the rams had left through, nothing.... nothing....nothing...
At this point, the lows, I hit my rock bottom low. I had to work on holding back the emotion this time. The past 9 seasons, Iv worked my butt off, but nothing like I had done on this hunt, let alone this day, I gave it my all, even with all the times I heard my inner self say, “just give up”.
I pulled out my inreach and wrote a message to my mom, explaining everything that had just happen, where I went and what I did, I was devastated to say the least. Message sent 11:15 am
I through off my pack, sat down in the light blowing rain, and lit a captain black. Sitting looking down hill, wondering how my dog was making out. I pondered on all the chances I had had, I’m a firm believer that when it’s your time, a greater power, whatever you may call it, will lead you the way, or lead the way to you, wether it’s to the sky’s above, or to a legal ram.
No sooner that I butted out my cigar, I heard a rock tumble down from the cliffs above, click, tick tick, click click. Not sure what was behind me, but assuming it’s just a random rock falling, I very, very slowly turned my body and peak around the rock my back was against. To my amazement, once again, Rams!! This 400 yard shot business haunted me on this hunt, like no other. Again, all 3 rams standing there, about 40-50’ up in the cliffs. I dropped to my pack and put my rifle up. Again I was in a frantic, how far!? The angle was steep uphil, “about” 400 yards, and I had no clue, what was behind the rams or where he would fall if I dumped him in there. I was cocked and loaded, holding a few inches above the big rams shoulders. I had him, I know I did!! But my inner self kept the weight off my trigger finger..... ...... about 30 seconds went by, and I slowly clicked my safety on. Again, my tension was trying to take over, or was it anger? Or pure frustration? I really don’t know. All 3 rams casually went out of sight, in an uphil direction.
I grabbed my inreach once again, another message to my mom, “No range finder just cost me my ram again, standing there “about” 400 yards, to much room for error, now their headed up into no mans land. What a bummer” message sent 11:43 am
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