The air was crisp that morning, my bella clava covering most of my frozen face, I forced my self further up the hill, my 30/30 open sights rifle securely strapped over my right shoulder. The only warmth in my body was the Wisers Deluxe whiskey, slowly saturating into my already alcohol enriched blood stream.
About two weeks back my ex Allison, told me there was some massive sheep in an area she liked to call "Hog Haven". I was a bit skeptical because of my previous experiences sheep hunting and the excruciatingly hard terrain that i had faced before....legs of jello, and and a hangover that would bring down a large rutting bull Moose down to its knees. But, I thought it over and bringing down a trophy Sheep vs the pain I would endure, overall it was worth it. Besides I might get lucky with the ex, even if i couldn't bring down a monster stone sheep.
So back to the story....we had been hiking for three days since we had departed from the jet boat, i had barely eaten anything for the last days since i had prioritized the Wisers over the dehydrated mountain house meals. We still had another day of hiking ahead of us....the hardest of the four days. I looked up westward to one of the southern most mountains, the sun was slowly creeping its way out of sight. I then turned to look down hill and then realized that Allison had caught up to me, without a word she took the lead and said lets pitch a tent here....I didn't argue!
Taking a quick sip from my flask I turned to follow her centering my focus on that fine piece, and I'm not talking about her browning titanium mountain rifle.
We had seen Grizzly sign on the way in, and thinking back to rattlers story, I wasn't about to go into our tent without a loaded gun, I was cocked and locked. I didn't sleep very much that night, but at least we didn't encounter any bears.
Next morning with a squal moving in, I was yet again nursing a mad hangover, nothing that a shot or two wouldn't cure; thinking back to my days playing ball and the miracles I had some how pulled off. I knew I was all right. Besides if it worked for that deadbeat Mickey Mantle it would damn well work for me. So on we trudged up the mountain in the dark of pre-dawn. We were just about to arrive in our honey hole. Would our monster be there? My ex swore that she had talked with the GO in the area and he hadn't made it into this valley yet this year and wasn't going to head in as it was the end of sheep season and the conditions were nearly impassable.
As we peered into the hanging valley all I could see was white, we might had camped out here for a few days to let the weather clear, but our time was pressed as this was the last day of sheep season. And I wasn't about to let a little bit of snow get between me and ol'curly. We pressed on, into the blizzard with my camp on my back. Right then a thought crossed my mind to give up and go home. But I am sheep hunter, and the only way I am going to give up is to die a slow frozen death, or be lured into the tent by a devilish looking she wolf. Thoughts of star wars 1 crossed my mind and I thought of warming my hands like skywalker did in the belly of a monster snow caped stone sheep.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. From there I couldnt even describe the excitement I felt, only a very few could know, let alone describe what happened next...the orgasmic yet terrifyingly confusing moments in your life when you know that you know that your next shot will define the fact that thus far you have been to cheap to taxedermy previous animals and now you damn will have to if this big boy goes down. There was a lot of firsts that day.... one I had started to respect my ex that day because not a lot of girls would have trekked that far to let me shoot first on a Ram....let alone let me have relations with her, after her younger Sister had taken advantage of me at a party.
I got into position, thoughts swirling in my head, as they always do before you make a big kill. Is my rifle still accurate? Are my handloads gonna fire as built? Will the wind or an upward angle affect my shot, and by how much?? I went down into prone position, took half a breath in, my tongue touched and slid along the lower part of my mouth (i was focused) as i eased the trigger back. A tenth of a second went by as the Ram heard me breathe out, as I realized the safety was still on...(too bad i hadn't thought about safety when I rammed my ex. But unlike my Ex I was worried about this Ram getting away...this was a horny beast)
Switching the safety off, I put 2 pounds of pressure on my two and a half pound trigger. By this time the Ram had sensed our presence. I knew i had only one shot, as the Ram was heading over a ridge. The thirty calibre bullet smacked the Ram broadside 220 yards away. The Ram shuddered and made to take off, its feet were moving but the beast was stunned. I cocked the lever action back again and fired a second shot, my 30/30 smacked against my muscular shoulder sending a jolt through my entire torso. The shot was true...the beast gave one last jolt of movement, then fell to the ground, horns down into the rocky slide.
Total calm took over me, and I started to shake as the realization came over me of what i did. I had fallen a book ram. I quickly ran towards the fallen beast, Allison falling in close behind. As we pulled up to the sheep I knew this was a big one. I pulled out my measuring tape and measured the horns on the beast they came in at 44 inches each. Good thing i had a measuring tape cause what happened next was a nightmare. As we sat in the clearing I sensed more movement, but unlike the sheep when i had shot it, this was not 20 yards off. Fear hit me like a moving wall of pure adrenaline...instinctually I yelled to Allison "Grizzly!" The giant beast stood close to 8 foot tall, giving an if described giant earth shatterring roar. It headed straight for the downed sheep...I fumbled for my Camera, knowing Alison had the bear in her sights...I needed a picture of this trophy Ram, turned the power on, and snapped one shot. Then the power light flashed, batteries were dead, I had left it on while taking intoxicated pictures the night before in my tent.
Suddenly the bear turned towards our direction, we started to run, tripping over a stone the camera flew out of my hands. I watched as the camera tumbled through the air landing on a jagged piece of cliff, camera parts flying through the frozen chilled air. We both ran as hard and as fast as we could, furiously making our descent.
With a severe storm front moving in, we couldn't go back up for our packs, or for the gigantic curls the bear was standing over. With nothing left to our selves but our witts and my flask of whiskey we headed back down to the boat and to warmer temperatures.
Some where on the mountain my friends lays a half eaten sheep, a full bellied bear and a broke ass camera with a memory card with a picture of an epic sheep, and multiple pictures of my naughty self getting jiggy with my ex. If those pictures ever get out, if anyone on here should ever find a pentax digital camera in the mountains, please feel free to email those shots back to me. You can keep the pictures of the sheep.
TWSH
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Re: An ULTRA EPIC Stone sheep hunt
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