Dall Sheep Hunt - Last Day
I awoke at 7:45 AM to the stark reality that this was the very last day of my fourth dall sheep hunt, and I had yet to connect on a ram with my bow. Forty-one days of actual hunting over the past eighteen years for this species, not counting all the travel days, and there was still an empty spot on the trophy room wall where a full curl white ram was "supposed" to be. Looking up at the surrounding steep mountainsides the thought kept creeping into my consciousness that it might just be that I'm not destined to get one of these rams. There was however, one more day to try, and that was what I was here for.
Slim decided we'd head south this morning, crossing the creek where we had see the grizzly yesterday morning, and climbing the far side slope to glass back into a basin that was well hidden from our camp site. Yesterday Slim saw a small group of rams cross over to this side and disappear while glassing from high on the opposite side of the valley. They had crossed late, so there was a decent chance that they would still be in the area, and a couple of them looked good from a distance. It was certainly worth a shot.
It was nice starting the day with a down hill hike for a change! The creek was easy to cross and the far side slope was an easy climb. Other then picking our way through patches of chest high buck brush, we made good time getting to our proposed vantage point to start glassing. With-in ten minutes Slim had found the rams, at least two of them, up and feeding two thirds up the mountain behind our camp. Because they were half way around the mountain they were not visible from our camp itself, but they were not far away. Heck, we figured we could get to them in less than two hours! We watched them until they started bedding, then worked our way back out of the valley toward camp.
After re-crossing the creek we found a path around the base of the mountain so we could approach the ram's altitude unseen. The plan was to get higher than them before working our way around the mountain to their side. By the time we would get there the morning thermals should be pushing the air currents higher, and any scent should get pushed up slope from us helping with our approach no matter what the actual prevailing wind direction. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Once at the altitude we thought would put us just above the rams, we started the side sloping needed to try to get the rams in our line of sight. This is always the "nervous" part for me because I need to be extra careful with my footing not to start rock slides that will alert the sheep we are trying to approach. The closer one gets, the more important noise becomes, and therefore the more nervous about the noise. The swirling wind had Slim bothered more than the noise was worrying me.
Looking for options we found there were none. Shear cliffs prevented us from circling the mountain to approach from the other side and we didn't know if we could find any other rams to hunt if we left these. Besides, one of the rams in this group looked to be the best we'd seen on the entire hunt! We kept going slowly and carefully looking ahead with every step.
After crossing three ridges Slim spotted a single ram and we dropped down behind some rocks where we could glass to find his friends. Unfortunately the still swirling winds were betraying our presence and the rams were getting very restless. One more good breeze from us to them and they were all up and moving away at almost two hundred yards. They weren't in full flight, but they had changed course and there was no way we would be able to chase them and win. Our options were getting "slimmer" by the moment!
In desperation Slim crawled right up onto the grassy knoll we were hiding behind and just sat down in plain sight of the fleeing rams. He was wearing a very light colored (almost white) shirt and stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. The rams stopped. They seemed more at ease with him in the open, so I decided to join him. While doing so I stripped off my camp top to a white long sleeved silk underwear top. I then "bedded" beside Slim on the top of the ridge as if we were two other rams. It worked! The four rams stopped their departure and began casually feeding on the next ridge a mere 175 yards from us. When the biggest one bedded down looking at us, I knew it was going to get interesting.
For the next five and a half hours we just sat there watching one another. Those rams had no place special to go, and all day to get there. The smaller rams fed this way and that in between bedding periods, but the biggest of the four hardly ever moved. Every hour or so he'd stand up and feed either toward us or in the opposite direction. When he started our way the excitement came quickly. When he went the other way we were sure our attempt was doomed to failure. This roller coaster ride of emotions kept swinging back and forth all afternoon, as the ram never went more than thirty yards before returning to that same bedding spot. Sometimes he'd face away from us looking off into the basin, sometimes he'd just look straight down hill, and at others he seemed to be just staring at us. It was unnerving, but we had no options.
The smaller rams had fed out of sight away from us by mid afternoon which we took as a bad sign that the big guy might follow them when he decided to make a final move toward feeding for the night. An hour or so later they started feeding back our way, which was a good sign. The big one was well over 38" and very heavy.
Both Slim and I judged him at a mid 160 class ram that would make a fine trophy even for a rifle hunter. Slim even commented once during the afternoon that he'd give his left arm for a good rifle hunter at a time like this. The 175 yard shot would not be that difficult under these conditions, it was a great ram, and the last day of the hunt. I told Slim I was tempted to borrow his rifle myself!
Finally the big guy got up and started feeding in what looked like a serious mode. It was either going to happen or not, and we'd soon find out if we wasted the last six hours of our hunt. He went the other way! Slim dropped off our bedding ridge to retrieve our packs so we could try to follow the rams with crossed fingers. By the time he returned I'd watched the ram drop down slope and feed around the base of the finger he had been bedded on. He was out of sight, but appeared to be headed back around in our direction, just several hundred feet lower in elevation. This might be our chance after all.
We both bailed off the ridge at this point and I got my camo shirt back on. Slim led the way as we tried to work our way down the slope and behind the finger ridge we had been "bedded" on. The plan was to try to find an ambush spot low enough to get a shot if the big ram kept feeding in our basic direction.
It was working, but could we be quite and fast enough to be in position "if" he actually came???? I concentrated on my footing to keep the noise down while Slim kept peering over rocks to try to see the ram. The signal that the ram was right below us caused an instant rush as well as a near panic to find a good shooting platform. I saw a sliver of white just over the rock I was on at the same time Slim confirmed he was 48 yards away. I felt I could get closer by moving down slope, and the ram was still working in our direction. A few minutes later Slim whispered, "42 yards".
With a steep downhill angle I was going to be using my thirty yard pin at this distance, and I'm very comfortable at thirty yards! I wanted him facing away when I came to full draw and stood for a clear shot however. Slim watched for the right opportunity as I nocked an arrow and got ready. Three times I started to draw only to have the ram turn back my way. You could cut the tension with a knife at that point. Then the unbelievable happened. The big ram appeared out of nowhere walking right behind the one we were mistakenly watching for a shot, and heading away from us. He had evidently been leading this other ram around the finger we were hiding on, gotten around the other side where he saw us, and decided to "leave town." He had to of been with-in twenty-five yards and we never knew he was there!
Now I found myself facing some difficult decisions that had to be made in an instant. The big ram was stopped broadside looking at us at 94 yards, while the smaller one (a nice full curl legal ram) was only 42 yards and didn't know we were there. I could try a 94 yarder on the big one with the bow, or arm wrestle Slim for his rifle and shoot him. The other option, of course, was to shoot the smaller ram using the "chip shot" offered.
Did you ever have a second that seemed like an hour? This was mine.
The arrow passed cleanly through the chest of the smaller ram right where I had aimed.
Slim whispered, "Great shot!" And we both sat down quietly.
We had talked about this earlier in the hunt. Slim always likes to sit tight after a kill shot letting the animals wander off as undisturbed as possible so they don't associate the shot, the hunters, and the death of one of their kind. The ram walked about forty yards and bedded beside a rock on the edge of a cliff. The bigger ram just stood watching. As my ram put his head down, seconds after the shot, his body started to slide.
You guessed it! He slid right off that cliff and started doing mid air cartwheels off rock outcroppings on his way to the bottom of the mountain. My heart was in my throat wondering if there would be anything left to the horns and the cape when we finally got to him. The big ram walked over to where the slide began and just looked down as if trying to figure out why his buddy had taken this route off the mountain. Minutes later he casually walked away and we started our climb down.
It's hard to explain the feeling to someone that has not experienced it. Walking up to that ram, knowing that I had accomplished an eighteen year goal/quest, and done it my way was unexplainable. Words like "joy" and/or "pride" don't even come close to the actual feelings. Sharing the moment with someone you have hunted hard with adds an additional dimension to the experience and Slim and I both seemed to savor the moment before the hard work began.
This was "our" first dall sheep with the bow, and Slim was just as proud of the effort as I. The picture taking took a while, then the capping, and quartering.
We headed off the mountain with full packs and high spirits arriving in camp well after 10:00 PM. Dinner tonight was sheep tenderloins fried in butter. It doesn't get better than this!