Romain
07-12-2018, 10:25 PM
I’ve been a member of HBC for a few years now and like many of you have spent countless hours reading great stories from many members about successful hunts and good memories. As someone who enjoys mountain hunting I especially love a good sheep story, and given the time of year many a sheep hunter are getting excited for opening day. I think I have read and reread every sheep story on this forum and I got to a point and thought to myself why don’t I give it a try? You never know unless you try, so Ladies and Gentlemen this is my attempt at bringing you along on my 2017 Northern BC Stone Sheep adventure.
As with all hunts, the summer was full of planning: Securing transportation, gathering gear, pouring over maps, telling myself I’m going to train but that I’ll have time for that tomorrow and packing, repacking and rerepacking the old trusty Tatonka. Now I have been lucky enough to be part of other successful sheep hunts and but I have never had the opportunity to tag one myself. This year I was headed up North with my Father and our good family friend, and as I had missed last years successful sheep trip it was agreed that I was first shooter this trip. Needless to say I was excited. Before we knew it the truck was loaded and we were off. 10 hours later had us finding a hotel in Fort St. John to try and get some sleep before the last leg of our journey up the highway and into the mountains the next day. Usually I’d say I was too excited to sleep but knowing that the next 10 days were to be crammed into a 3 man tent, on a thermarest on the side of a rocky mountain, I enjoyed my last night’s sleep on a real mattress.
Leaving well before light and fast-forwarding well into the next day found the three of us sitting on the riverbank. We were here. There’s nothing like that initial feeling, sitting, taking it all in, wondering what the next few days will hold. Will I shoot my sheep? Will we even see any? Will a grizzly bear eat me? Who knows!
Our initial plan was to hike back into sheep mountains as fast as we could as it was a long ways back off the river so we wasted no time stashing our river gear well out of bear range and hitting the trail. Fortunately we found a great elk trail headed back into the mountains and made great time. At one point along the way we spotted a herd of elk with a nice looking bull watching his harem. We were all packing elk tags but the ‘original idea’ was that we would initially focus on sheep so we left him alone. Some time later had us seeing the alpine peaks of what could be Sheep Mountains. We were all quite happy to start glassing in anticipation. However with no sheep spotted we continued our arduous trek up the mountain, and as light was fading on the first day we decided to make camp. After a fine dinner of mountain house we were all ready for bed and as we did not have a fire we hit the sleeping bags shortly after dark for a full night of sleep.
The next morning we were up before light for a quick oatmeal breakfast, packed up camp and headed for the target area. The mountains got steeper, the sun got hotter, the wind blew stronger and around lunchtime we found ourselves cresting the first ridge and looking into some good sheep country. It was a beautiful September day and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We had all dropped our packs and settled into the moss to rest up and glass the large bowl we were overlooking and the surrounding mountains. An hour later we had our first sheep spotted, a band of about 8 young rams. The majority of these were small banana curls but there was one low slung and flaring 6-7 year old that looked to have a very bright future ahead of him. It was around lunchtime when we decided to try and locate a water seep we had knowledge of in the area. Unfortunately being the hot dry year it was we realized that our mountain water source was gone. So there we were, on top of our first mountain, first day of hunting and only had the water in our bottles. What now? After some deliberation we decided to finish the day by hiking back DOWN the mountain we had just hiked up, as there was a small spring that fed into an elk wallow closer to the bottom. Yumm.. Fortunately there was a good camp spot on a ledge an hour from the ridge top and we decided it would be a good idea not to camp too close to prime sheep territory. After watching the rams in the first bowl continue to feed into the evening we decided to make our way back down to our campsite. We made camp in a small grove of trees, cooked some mountain house and tried to come up with a plan for hunting with limited water resources. Our initial plan was to get as far back as we could right away so this water situation was changing things. Dad proposed the idea that we hike down early in the morning and fill every bottle, bladder and bag we have with water as we should have enough for a good 3-4 days which should give us time to find another water source. That was the plan.
We could hardly sleep that night as the elk were screaming so loud. Not the worst problem I’ve ever had. The next morning we were up early and working our way down the mountain. Directly below us somewhere in the timber was a good bull, letting everyone around know he was king of the mountain and probably pissing in our soon to be drinking water. We found the spring and wallow and filled up every container we had, then we found ourselves trudging back up the mountain with more water then we’ve ever carried before. By the time we got back to camp it was close to noon and we had clouds moving in around us. We decided that instead of rushing things and because we did double the walking we thought we were going to do up to this point, that we would relax the rest of this day and then push deeper into sheep country tomorrow. It was after lunch already and Dad and Johnny decided to have a nap as it was getting overcast and we were all tired from the morning’s death march. As there was still elk bugling all around I decided to take the bugle and walk down the ridge to try and see what I could see.
About a half hour later had me in a screaming match with what sounded like a good bull across the draw. We went back and forth for an hour while I was huddled under a spruce as it rained on and off. Suddenly there was another elk call from the other side of camp, then another one from above camp… I wasn’t sure whether Dad and Johnny were calling or whether I was starting a war but those other calls sounded like the real deal. After about 5 minutes of screaming I could tell the big bull I was initially calling was coming across the draw and coming fast. It was at this point I decided to run back to camp and get Dad and Johnny. Before I hit camp I looked up the mountain and about 100 yards above our tent is a big bull screaming down at us within plain sight and beating the brush with his antlers. I didn’t know what to do, there was a big bull charging camp from below and one walking around right above camp. I continued to literally run back to camp and before I could get there I heard my name called from off the edge of the ridge. It was Johnny and Dad. They were watching the initial bull charge through the trees and make his way up our mountain. It all happened so fast. Johnny said to me the big 6-point was coming quick and was just held up in the last thicket out of site probably 100 yards down the hill. He said for me to run back a few yards and start raking the trees and making a ruckus. I raked an old dead bush with the butt stock of my gun just long enough for the bull to hear when he made one last charge up the hill. I heard the bark of Johnny’s Fierce 7mm mag and the WHAPP of a solid hit. As I ran over the edge I could see the bull piled up against a poplar just big enough to hold him from tumbling down the mountain. We all raced down the hill to make sure he didn’t go straight to the bottom and after securing him we boned him out and sucked him up a good tree where no bears could get to the meat.
As we were working we all laughed at our ‘initial Sheep first’ plan and how that lasted all of 1.5 days. We made a fire that night and ate elk tenderloin as we discussed our plan for the next few days. The weather had been fairly cool so we were not worried about leaving the meat hang for a few days. Johnny broke the silence at dinner by saying, “Kind of crazy isn’t it? This animal was literally running around, king of the mountain about 2 hours ago and now we’re cooking him over an open fire”. It’s an interesting thought when you sit down and ponder it. But that’s hunting and the reason many of us hunters choose to do what we do. We went to bed full that night, not looking forward to climb up the mountain with camp and water the next day.
As with all hunts, the summer was full of planning: Securing transportation, gathering gear, pouring over maps, telling myself I’m going to train but that I’ll have time for that tomorrow and packing, repacking and rerepacking the old trusty Tatonka. Now I have been lucky enough to be part of other successful sheep hunts and but I have never had the opportunity to tag one myself. This year I was headed up North with my Father and our good family friend, and as I had missed last years successful sheep trip it was agreed that I was first shooter this trip. Needless to say I was excited. Before we knew it the truck was loaded and we were off. 10 hours later had us finding a hotel in Fort St. John to try and get some sleep before the last leg of our journey up the highway and into the mountains the next day. Usually I’d say I was too excited to sleep but knowing that the next 10 days were to be crammed into a 3 man tent, on a thermarest on the side of a rocky mountain, I enjoyed my last night’s sleep on a real mattress.
Leaving well before light and fast-forwarding well into the next day found the three of us sitting on the riverbank. We were here. There’s nothing like that initial feeling, sitting, taking it all in, wondering what the next few days will hold. Will I shoot my sheep? Will we even see any? Will a grizzly bear eat me? Who knows!
Our initial plan was to hike back into sheep mountains as fast as we could as it was a long ways back off the river so we wasted no time stashing our river gear well out of bear range and hitting the trail. Fortunately we found a great elk trail headed back into the mountains and made great time. At one point along the way we spotted a herd of elk with a nice looking bull watching his harem. We were all packing elk tags but the ‘original idea’ was that we would initially focus on sheep so we left him alone. Some time later had us seeing the alpine peaks of what could be Sheep Mountains. We were all quite happy to start glassing in anticipation. However with no sheep spotted we continued our arduous trek up the mountain, and as light was fading on the first day we decided to make camp. After a fine dinner of mountain house we were all ready for bed and as we did not have a fire we hit the sleeping bags shortly after dark for a full night of sleep.
The next morning we were up before light for a quick oatmeal breakfast, packed up camp and headed for the target area. The mountains got steeper, the sun got hotter, the wind blew stronger and around lunchtime we found ourselves cresting the first ridge and looking into some good sheep country. It was a beautiful September day and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. We had all dropped our packs and settled into the moss to rest up and glass the large bowl we were overlooking and the surrounding mountains. An hour later we had our first sheep spotted, a band of about 8 young rams. The majority of these were small banana curls but there was one low slung and flaring 6-7 year old that looked to have a very bright future ahead of him. It was around lunchtime when we decided to try and locate a water seep we had knowledge of in the area. Unfortunately being the hot dry year it was we realized that our mountain water source was gone. So there we were, on top of our first mountain, first day of hunting and only had the water in our bottles. What now? After some deliberation we decided to finish the day by hiking back DOWN the mountain we had just hiked up, as there was a small spring that fed into an elk wallow closer to the bottom. Yumm.. Fortunately there was a good camp spot on a ledge an hour from the ridge top and we decided it would be a good idea not to camp too close to prime sheep territory. After watching the rams in the first bowl continue to feed into the evening we decided to make our way back down to our campsite. We made camp in a small grove of trees, cooked some mountain house and tried to come up with a plan for hunting with limited water resources. Our initial plan was to get as far back as we could right away so this water situation was changing things. Dad proposed the idea that we hike down early in the morning and fill every bottle, bladder and bag we have with water as we should have enough for a good 3-4 days which should give us time to find another water source. That was the plan.
We could hardly sleep that night as the elk were screaming so loud. Not the worst problem I’ve ever had. The next morning we were up early and working our way down the mountain. Directly below us somewhere in the timber was a good bull, letting everyone around know he was king of the mountain and probably pissing in our soon to be drinking water. We found the spring and wallow and filled up every container we had, then we found ourselves trudging back up the mountain with more water then we’ve ever carried before. By the time we got back to camp it was close to noon and we had clouds moving in around us. We decided that instead of rushing things and because we did double the walking we thought we were going to do up to this point, that we would relax the rest of this day and then push deeper into sheep country tomorrow. It was after lunch already and Dad and Johnny decided to have a nap as it was getting overcast and we were all tired from the morning’s death march. As there was still elk bugling all around I decided to take the bugle and walk down the ridge to try and see what I could see.
About a half hour later had me in a screaming match with what sounded like a good bull across the draw. We went back and forth for an hour while I was huddled under a spruce as it rained on and off. Suddenly there was another elk call from the other side of camp, then another one from above camp… I wasn’t sure whether Dad and Johnny were calling or whether I was starting a war but those other calls sounded like the real deal. After about 5 minutes of screaming I could tell the big bull I was initially calling was coming across the draw and coming fast. It was at this point I decided to run back to camp and get Dad and Johnny. Before I hit camp I looked up the mountain and about 100 yards above our tent is a big bull screaming down at us within plain sight and beating the brush with his antlers. I didn’t know what to do, there was a big bull charging camp from below and one walking around right above camp. I continued to literally run back to camp and before I could get there I heard my name called from off the edge of the ridge. It was Johnny and Dad. They were watching the initial bull charge through the trees and make his way up our mountain. It all happened so fast. Johnny said to me the big 6-point was coming quick and was just held up in the last thicket out of site probably 100 yards down the hill. He said for me to run back a few yards and start raking the trees and making a ruckus. I raked an old dead bush with the butt stock of my gun just long enough for the bull to hear when he made one last charge up the hill. I heard the bark of Johnny’s Fierce 7mm mag and the WHAPP of a solid hit. As I ran over the edge I could see the bull piled up against a poplar just big enough to hold him from tumbling down the mountain. We all raced down the hill to make sure he didn’t go straight to the bottom and after securing him we boned him out and sucked him up a good tree where no bears could get to the meat.
As we were working we all laughed at our ‘initial Sheep first’ plan and how that lasted all of 1.5 days. We made a fire that night and ate elk tenderloin as we discussed our plan for the next few days. The weather had been fairly cool so we were not worried about leaving the meat hang for a few days. Johnny broke the silence at dinner by saying, “Kind of crazy isn’t it? This animal was literally running around, king of the mountain about 2 hours ago and now we’re cooking him over an open fire”. It’s an interesting thought when you sit down and ponder it. But that’s hunting and the reason many of us hunters choose to do what we do. We went to bed full that night, not looking forward to climb up the mountain with camp and water the next day.