bridger
12-30-2008, 10:41 PM
A RAM FOR THE TOP HAND
The Top Hand is an uncommonly fine rifle shot. I would never bet against him. That’s why the events that unfolded one August morning many years ago on the south end of The Prophet Bench surprised me so much. The Top Hand and our hunting partners Jon, Ken, and I were camped in a big basin below the bench, three days travel by pack string west of the Alaska Highway. We were hunting stone sheep.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/IMG_00023.jpg (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12163&size=big&cat=recent&limit=recent)
The first two days were unproductive as we saw only ewes & lambs and small rams, but not the bruisers we had come so far to find. On the morning of the third day we made our way up into a rough sheepy looking basin high on the bench. Far below we could see the silver thread of the Prophet River. To our left several miles; the sheep ranges of the Muskwa were awakening to the morning sun. We were in great sheep country! Now to finds some rams!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00015.jpg
Spotting scopes out; we settled into glass the ridges we hoped would hold the rams of our dreams. Ken spotted them first! “Rams,” he exclaimed. “Where,” I practically shouted.” “Over there,” he said pointing across the basin. On the far side of the basin two rams had suddenly sky lined on the crest of an extremely steep and boulder strewn hogs back. We watched as they stretched and began feeding. One was an old ram, full curl, massive and broomed back to the bridge of his nose, the other a youngster with a thin ¾ curl head. After a few minutes they disappeared over the backside of the hog’s back and out of sight. “They will probably bed down again right there,” Jon said, “and there could be rams we didn’t see.” “Let’s go take a look, “I said shouldering my pack and heading up the mountain. An hour later we were on the hog’s back that we hoped held the bedded rams. The steepness of the terrain was going to make finding the rams and getting a good shot difficult. We talked it over and decided the Top Hand and I would carefully make our way down the ridge hoping to find the rams. Jon and Ken would stay up high in hopes of getting a shot if we blew the stalk.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00041.jpg
The Top Hand and I began easing down the ridge; we would have to take it slow and easy. Not knowing exactly where the rams were bedded made the stalk all the more exciting. Slowly we made our way down; carefully peeking over each hump in the terrain until I suddenly spotted the top of a ram’s horn barely a 100 feet down the hill. We dropped to our knees. To get to where we could see the ram clearly we would have to cross about 40 feet of loose shale. I began taking my boots off to make less noise. I motioned to the Top Hand to do the same. He shook his head stubbornly. “Are you out of your mind?” he whispered in my ear. “I can’t walk across the kitchen floor without my boots on.” “You have to,” I whispered back,” that loose shale is going to be noisy enough as it is.” After a tense whispered conversation we decided I would try to sneak across the shale and the Top Hand would stay put in case the ram spooked. After all, what could go wrong? We were less than a 100 ft from the ram. If I spooked him, the Top Hand would be ready!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00032.jpg
A minute or so later I looked over the edge and there was the ram lying less than 50 ft below me and slightly to my left. The tension was building as I carefully looked around for other rams. After several minutes the ram sensed something was wrong and turned his head looking up at me. I will never forget that moment. The ram’s eyes widened to what looked twice their normal size. He jumped up and scrambled to the top of a big rock off to the side and just stood there looking at me trying to figure out what I was. I turned my head slightly and said in a somewhat calm manner, “Shoot, Top Hand!” The sound of the shot was followed by an unbelievable sight. The ram was still standing there looking at me. It was incredible. “I got him!” shouted the Top Hand. “No, you didn’t!” I yelled back. “He’s still standing there!” BOOM! “I got him that time,” yelled the Top Hand the sound of his second shot echoing across the basin. Incredibly the ram was still standing there looking at me less than 50 feet away! The tension was unbearable. “No, you didn’t,” I yelled back for the second time. By this time the ram had seen enough; he jumped off the side of the ledge and was instantly out of sight under the rim. “I had to hit him, he was only 50 feet away, I couldn’t have missed,” came the Top Hand’s excited reply. But he had missed, both times!
Instantly, more rams began getting up around us and quickly disappearing under the steepness of the hillside. We had unknowingly sneaked right into a bunch of eight rams. A full curl ram jumped up practically at my feet so close I could only point and shoot, the bullet from my 25/06 striking the base of his horn slowing him down. A quick second shot and our first ram was down. The remaining rams were now out of our sight under the rim and leaving the country. Seconds later the sound of Jon’s 7mm Mag was followed by the sight of a ram rolling down the opposite hillside.
The Top Hand and I stood there not believing what had just happened. The excitement was over faster than it takes to tell about it. Two friends, two rookie sheep hunters had just had a great adventure; one we would never forget. The shock of the moment was broken by Jon yelling down the hill, “Top Hand how did you miss that ram.” “I don’t know,” the Top Hand replied an emptiness in his voice. “Where were you aiming?” Jon yelled again. “I have no idea,” said the Top Hand sadly shaking his head. “I have no idea.”
Looking back now years later I doubt if I would have hit that ram either. Seeing a full curl stone ram less than 50 feet away has unnerved more than one sheep hunter. Our enthusiasm and inexperience had created an unbelievable tension; we had simply gotten too close.
The Top Hand lived up to his reputation several days later and several miles to the South taking a fine ram with a great shot ending our hunt and this story.
The Top Hand is an uncommonly fine rifle shot. I would never bet against him. That’s why the events that unfolded one August morning many years ago on the south end of The Prophet Bench surprised me so much. The Top Hand and our hunting partners Jon, Ken, and I were camped in a big basin below the bench, three days travel by pack string west of the Alaska Highway. We were hunting stone sheep.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/medium/IMG_00023.jpg (http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/showphoto.php?photo=12163&size=big&cat=recent&limit=recent)
The first two days were unproductive as we saw only ewes & lambs and small rams, but not the bruisers we had come so far to find. On the morning of the third day we made our way up into a rough sheepy looking basin high on the bench. Far below we could see the silver thread of the Prophet River. To our left several miles; the sheep ranges of the Muskwa were awakening to the morning sun. We were in great sheep country! Now to finds some rams!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00015.jpg
Spotting scopes out; we settled into glass the ridges we hoped would hold the rams of our dreams. Ken spotted them first! “Rams,” he exclaimed. “Where,” I practically shouted.” “Over there,” he said pointing across the basin. On the far side of the basin two rams had suddenly sky lined on the crest of an extremely steep and boulder strewn hogs back. We watched as they stretched and began feeding. One was an old ram, full curl, massive and broomed back to the bridge of his nose, the other a youngster with a thin ¾ curl head. After a few minutes they disappeared over the backside of the hog’s back and out of sight. “They will probably bed down again right there,” Jon said, “and there could be rams we didn’t see.” “Let’s go take a look, “I said shouldering my pack and heading up the mountain. An hour later we were on the hog’s back that we hoped held the bedded rams. The steepness of the terrain was going to make finding the rams and getting a good shot difficult. We talked it over and decided the Top Hand and I would carefully make our way down the ridge hoping to find the rams. Jon and Ken would stay up high in hopes of getting a shot if we blew the stalk.
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00041.jpg
The Top Hand and I began easing down the ridge; we would have to take it slow and easy. Not knowing exactly where the rams were bedded made the stalk all the more exciting. Slowly we made our way down; carefully peeking over each hump in the terrain until I suddenly spotted the top of a ram’s horn barely a 100 feet down the hill. We dropped to our knees. To get to where we could see the ram clearly we would have to cross about 40 feet of loose shale. I began taking my boots off to make less noise. I motioned to the Top Hand to do the same. He shook his head stubbornly. “Are you out of your mind?” he whispered in my ear. “I can’t walk across the kitchen floor without my boots on.” “You have to,” I whispered back,” that loose shale is going to be noisy enough as it is.” After a tense whispered conversation we decided I would try to sneak across the shale and the Top Hand would stay put in case the ram spooked. After all, what could go wrong? We were less than a 100 ft from the ram. If I spooked him, the Top Hand would be ready!
http://www.huntingbc.ca/photos/data/500/IMG_00032.jpg
A minute or so later I looked over the edge and there was the ram lying less than 50 ft below me and slightly to my left. The tension was building as I carefully looked around for other rams. After several minutes the ram sensed something was wrong and turned his head looking up at me. I will never forget that moment. The ram’s eyes widened to what looked twice their normal size. He jumped up and scrambled to the top of a big rock off to the side and just stood there looking at me trying to figure out what I was. I turned my head slightly and said in a somewhat calm manner, “Shoot, Top Hand!” The sound of the shot was followed by an unbelievable sight. The ram was still standing there looking at me. It was incredible. “I got him!” shouted the Top Hand. “No, you didn’t!” I yelled back. “He’s still standing there!” BOOM! “I got him that time,” yelled the Top Hand the sound of his second shot echoing across the basin. Incredibly the ram was still standing there looking at me less than 50 feet away! The tension was unbearable. “No, you didn’t,” I yelled back for the second time. By this time the ram had seen enough; he jumped off the side of the ledge and was instantly out of sight under the rim. “I had to hit him, he was only 50 feet away, I couldn’t have missed,” came the Top Hand’s excited reply. But he had missed, both times!
Instantly, more rams began getting up around us and quickly disappearing under the steepness of the hillside. We had unknowingly sneaked right into a bunch of eight rams. A full curl ram jumped up practically at my feet so close I could only point and shoot, the bullet from my 25/06 striking the base of his horn slowing him down. A quick second shot and our first ram was down. The remaining rams were now out of our sight under the rim and leaving the country. Seconds later the sound of Jon’s 7mm Mag was followed by the sight of a ram rolling down the opposite hillside.
The Top Hand and I stood there not believing what had just happened. The excitement was over faster than it takes to tell about it. Two friends, two rookie sheep hunters had just had a great adventure; one we would never forget. The shock of the moment was broken by Jon yelling down the hill, “Top Hand how did you miss that ram.” “I don’t know,” the Top Hand replied an emptiness in his voice. “Where were you aiming?” Jon yelled again. “I have no idea,” said the Top Hand sadly shaking his head. “I have no idea.”
Looking back now years later I doubt if I would have hit that ram either. Seeing a full curl stone ram less than 50 feet away has unnerved more than one sheep hunter. Our enthusiasm and inexperience had created an unbelievable tension; we had simply gotten too close.
The Top Hand lived up to his reputation several days later and several miles to the South taking a fine ram with a great shot ending our hunt and this story.