The chance to hunt wild sheep is an honor, one that only a sliver of willing hunters are able to do in their lifetime. If you've followed my blog, you know Tyler drew his once-in-a-lifetime Oregon sheep hunt this year. It has been a ride, to say the least, to be a part of his hunt. The hours of research talking to previous successful hunters and wildlife biologists that know the unit, dissecting every road and ridge using maps and Google Earth, and the pre-season scouting trips becoming more familiar with the sheep country, were all important steps that helped make this hunt a success.
They say you can measure how much fun a kid is having by how dirty he is...I'll let you be the judge
Saturday, Tyler showed up in camp as well as my brother Anthony and his son Tyler. We had a full camp, including two Tylers, and we were all extremely happy to be away from the normal day-to-day routine and reunite in such a beautifully rugged location. While Tyler and I weren't out looking for rams, we spent our time at camp hunting rocks and memories with the others. One afternoon, I spent a couple hours hiking above camp with Hunter looking for rocks and rattlesnakes. Hunter hasn't been around rattlesnakes much and so I explained the type of area they were usually around (under rocks, riparian areas). Minutes later, Hunter yelled, "I found one dad!" I wasn't sure if he meant a nice piece of agate or a snake until I noticed his pale face and suddenly quick reactions to noises. The rattlesnake was shaded under a flatrock hiding from the sun's hot rays. In the next hour we found two more rattlers under ledges and rocks. Needless to say, we were a bit more careful where we placed our hands and feet.
"Dad, I found one!"
Saturday evening, Tyler and I were glassing a large canyon near base camp and found some rams, including one great big ram, larger than any ram we had seen on any of the scouting trips thus far. "So, what d'ya wanna call 'em?" I asked Tyler. He thought for a second and replied, "I think I'll call him Honey." I still don't know exactly why the name Honey came to mind, but it seemed to suit the ram fine. The longer I stared at Honey, the more I found ourselves in a potential predicament. We found Honey far away from the roadless mountain range that we planned on backpacking for several days. Do we hunt Honey and other potential nice rams and come back to our comfortable base camp at night (remember the fire ring and fresh water?) or do we attempt the backpacking trip and experience the romantic sheep hunt living off of our backs for days in remote country?
Honey
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| Front View of Honey |
That night around the campfire, my dad, who is a reasonable thinker, questioned me again why we would backpack to the top of the mountain for 3-4 days when you have such a large ram near base camp. The only answer I had was because the size of the animal wasn't the biggest drive in this hunt. We were seeking adventure, we wanted to feel a little muscle pain, shed some sweat in order to get back to the more secluded canyons and possibly find an ornery lone ram from our backpacks. We have been planning this hike-in trip too long to change plans now, but at least now we had a back-up plan in case the pack-in trip was unsuccessful.
Sunday was a day of more scouting and hanging out with all those in camp. Some of Sunday's highlights were a successful coyote hunt and stumbling upon an old plane wreck. I didn't know the history of the wreck as I knelt down beside the engines, panels, melted aluminum, and twisted steel that were strewn across the mountaintop, but I knew the outcome was awful by the overwhelming somber, almost super-natural, feelings I experienced. Later, I found out the debris was what was left of a WWII plane carrying 11 young soldiers, which all were killed. That night, we enjoyed sitting around a campfire and looking at the stars to help put things in perspective. Jupiter and it's moons shone bright in the eastern sky while the Milky Way reflected directly above us like a latitudinal stroke of white paint.
Monday, my dad headed back to Utah and Anthony hauled the kids back to "reality", although I don't think anyone wanted to leave.
A mean coyote hunting crew
Monday afternoon, Tyler and I dropped off my pickup in the foothills on the north end of our backpack trip and when we returned to base camp Jared was there and ready to begin the packing trip. We took the side-by-side and a four wheeler up to the end of a two-track and began our hike ascending to the summit. Along the way, we jumped a herd of 20 ewes and lambs. While packing up a steep hill with a oversized pack on your back, you begin to question yourself on what you had packed and why. Did I really need to pack 275 ounces of water? We set-up camp in a small protected saddle between the summit and a rimrock cliff with just enough time to spend the last 10 minutes of light to glass for sheep. Finally, tomorrow Tyler could load a round into his rifle.
Tuesday morning was exciting although sheep sightings were rare. We spotted more mule deer than sheep but the potential for a big ram was good in these remote canyons. We recognized the fact that the country was expansive and to find sheep, even with our 15x binoculars, proved to be difficult for three experienced glassers. In other words, there was a whole lot more country than sheep. We hauled camp a couple miles northward as the western winds began to blow stronger and stronger to the point where it was difficult to glass to the west, which is where most of the sheep live.
Moving camp!
Tuesday evening I spotted our first and only ram of the day. Tyler was fixed into his spotting scope glassing a 30" buck along a sage ridge, and 150 yards behind him was a curious 3-4 yr. old ram. He would watch me and then turn and watch Tyler wondering what we were doing on his mountain. Moments later Jared came from around the ridge and spotted the same little ram as well. We laughed that none of us could find a ram in the multiple canyons we glassed and this ram was right under our nose. The sun set on Tyler's opening day with very few sheep sightings; however, the next day we had plans to move camp into Modesto and Rough canyon.
That night the clouds moved in and it trickled rain off and on. Wednesday morning was much colder and the low clouds began to limit our glassing but not before Tyler startled a group of 12 rams right below the summit. We picked up camp and headed towards the canyon where the rams had escaped. Tyler also found a small group of five young 3-5 yr. old rams off the east side of summit above 10 cent spring. Then the clouds set in and then the hail. The weather seemed to be getting worse and worse. The weather forecast called for partly cloudy with just a 40% possibility of isolated thunder storms. I could have strangled the weatherman. For hours, our visibility was less than 100 yards. Through the afternoon, we found ourselves hiding out as mother nature spit hail sideways and shook the surrounding rock ledges and our spirits with loud thunder.
By Wednesday afternoon, Tyler had pulled out his camera multiple times scanning through his pictures of "Honey". It warmed my body and enthusiasm just thinking about base camp below the cloudline in the warmer valley. The clouds lifted for a few hours so we continued north along the summit. We had found 60-70 ewes, several more nice mule deer bucks, but could not find any larger rams. Throughout the hike, I enjoyed watching the raptors migrate south using the wind thermals of the summit to help them on their way, especially the golden eagles which would fold their wings against their bodies and free fall a thousand feet in elevation only to turn upward and shoot upward on a thermal like they're on an invisible roller coaster.
After some hard ascents through loose shale rock, we made it to the headwall of Modesto and hit the summit overlooking Mclean's cabin, an old homestead enveloped in aspens thousands of feet below. I worked the slope over quickly with my binos and spotted a whole lens full of ram horns. The evening sun peeked through the cloud cover just long enough to spotlight the 13 rams bedded in the stunted sage and grass. After a few minutes of measuring each ram, one by one they stood and began grazing on the landscape. There were a few older rams with heavy horns. One stood out above the rest. I believe this ram to be Scarface from my last scouting trip with Brady. The rams fed over a ridge giving us the chance to slip in and get a closer look. The rams were 250 yards away and for a half hour we captured footage of the rams and Tyler decided "Honey" was a bigger ram than all of these...so we watched them as the sun disappeared behind a storm which was brewing in the western skies.
Jared tiptoeing through the shale rock
We made it to our new campsite as darkness fell. Before we could finish our dinners, the storm hit us. Wind gusts and hail pounded us from the west as we anchored down our tents and said our good-nights. So far, Tyler has compared every ram to "Honey" and there was no comparison, Honey was in a class of his own...so far. Despite the crummy weather, Wednesday had been a good day with Tyler passing on 32 rams. We made the decision if we weren't able to find any bigger rams on the ridge Thursday morning, we would make the trek off the mountaintop and try to be on Honey by evening.
Thursday morning, my birthday, I woke up at 6 am to hail hitting my tent. It was a rather sleepless night, like the others, with the relentless wind blowing shaking my tent all night long. I peeked outside to find there was zero visibility. I crawled back into my semi-wet sleeping bag only until the wind on the tent was absolutely unbearable. I walked around in the fog for a couple hours and learned the saddle we slept in was major hunting grounds for a previous hunting community. Black obsidian did not occur naturally on the ridge but, besides the basalt, it was the most common rock in the saddle. I pictured a young hunter waiting in ambush with his long bow as his fellow hunters pushed game of all sort through the low-lying saddle. I'm sure rabbits, sheep, deer, and antelope fell victim to these archers' rock and stick in that saddle. We waited and waited for the winds and clouds to lighten up a bit...minutes turned into hours. We decided when we get a break from the weather we would glass quickly, break camp, and head down to the pickup, and that is what we did. The storm lifted some and after only finding the same group of rams from the night before, we descended several thousand feet from the summit to my pickup. The warmth and still winds of the valley floor were a nice change.
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| Tyler glassing before heading off the ridge |
If we hustled we would able to reach the honey hole Thursday evening before dark. The recent wet weather made our ride back to base camp a little messy but we arrived; however, there was one problem. We had driven the UTV and the ATV several miles above base camp up a rough road to our starting point for our pack-in trip. How are we going to get machines now? Tyler, a motorbike enthusiast, jumped on my little Honda 50 I had taken along for Hunter to ride and off he went up the road. He barely fit on the seat but it sure beat walking.
On our way to the honeyhole, we noticed fresh tire tracks and we feared the worse. Could it be that another sheep hunter had beat us to Honey?! We slowly walked our way over to a hillside overlooking the honey hole and sat down to glass Within minutes, Tyler turned and grinned, "I got 'em". We ripped out the spotting scopes from our packs and confirmed it was the legend...Honey was alive and looking big. He had a younger ram with him as they were feeding along a far-off saddle. They topped over the skyline feeding to the other side of a craggy ridgetop.
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| Tyler glassing into honey hole |
Tyler made the decision that Jared would stay put at the glassing point, while I follow Tyler with the video camera as he makes the stalk on Honey. We would have to rush because we were racing daylight and it was a long ways across the valley and along the ridgetop. We hoofed it across the terrain with long strides until we got to the ridge, which we would have to inch our way right along the spine due to the steep, rocky face down both sides. I followed closely behind Tyler and with every step closer to Honey, I began to feel more and more sick. My hands trembled, my head was burning, and I constantly swallowed just to keep my heart from coming out of my mouth. I realized I had a serious case of ram fever. I decided I don't think I could handle the excitement...the pressures...the fever of a having a ram tag in my own pocket.
As we closed the gap between us and Honey we peered over the southern edge of the spine where we had last seen Honey heading towards, expecting to see him at any moment...but we didn't. Looking at the landscape, it made sense for Honey to stay on the ridgeline, the feed was more plentiful on the northside where we had seen him. "Maybe he turned and went back to the other side of the ridge" I whispered to Tyler. We continued down the ridge peeking into every crack and ravine to the south. To get a better vantage point, Tyler quietly climbed out on a rock point to get a better view. I stayed on the crest just a few yards from where we had last seen Honey . I peeked onto the north side of the ridge just in time for Honey to lift his massive horns and peg me...at closer than 30 yards. Briefly and selfishly, I wished I had the ram tag and my compound bow. Honey snorted to alert the other ram of my presence.
I could have held still and waited for his next move, but I needed to get Tyler. I slowly bent over and out of sight from the rams I hurried back to where Tyler could see me, and like a primate on crack I jumped up and down, waved my arms, and made strange clicking sounds to trying my best to portray to Tyler the dire situation we are in and how quickly he better move his ass if he ever wants to see Honey again. I never knew a man could run on vertical cliff until that evening. Unfortunately, no matter how fast Tyler moved and set the rifle up for a shot, Honey somehow sensed it. Tyler and Honey were in sync, but Honey was one step ahead.
The last time I saw Tyler before joining back at Jared's post was him running like a madman through the vertical rock hoping to catch up to the sure-footed ram. It was obvious that his efforts were hopeless and that Tyler had a little ram fever himself! I wished badly to hear the report of his 270 wsm, but was certain Honey had outwitted Tyler for the night, and possibly for the rest of the trip. We sat down next to Jared in the dark as Jared explained Honey and the young ram had made a wide circle and had walked within 10 yards from him. All this new information and the fact that the two non-tag holders could have killed Honey with a bow was a little more salt in the wound. Darkness and disappointment fell quickly and it was time to head to base camp and regroup our plans for the morning.
At base camp we ate like kings, which was a nice change from measuring every ration while packing on the mountain. It was a colder night (below freezing) and burgers and junk food had never tasted better. We made the decision that Tyler and I would be posted at the top of honeyhole at first light, while Jared would hike the base of a long ridge and glass the area where Honey headed the night before.
The sun was warm and our hopes were high that one of us could find Honey again. With good expectations, Tyler and I crept along the ridgeline glassing down into the honeyhole glassing every nook and cranny. Over an hour passed before I spied a young ram feeding lazily on some bitterbrush 800 yards away, and closeby I had found a big ram bedded up alongside a rockwall...just 200 yards where I had jumped Honey the evening before. "How could it not be Honey?" we whispered as we measured up the ram. The ram appeared to be Honey with heavy broomed tips. I turned on my phone to let Jared know we believe we may have found him again, when I saw I had three texts from Jared. "Found him! north end of mountain. High up on north facing slope. He doesn't know I'm here! Copy?"
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| Big ram we thought could be Honey |
Hmmm. Two Honeys? I looked over the rams again and had thought that Honey's sidekick from the night before was smaller than the younger of the two rams I was now looking at. I scanned the area more and out of nowhere, in true bighorn fashion, rams started appearing out of the rocks. 6,7.....8....12 rams appeared. I don't believe Honey was in this group of rams. The day has started out beautifully. We have several good rams in this herd and Jared has a location on Honey, possibly. Tyler asked what I would do in this situation. I hinted that it would be hard to harvest any of these rams in the "Dirty dozen" without looking at Jared's ram he spotted first. These rams were bedded for the day and there was no pressure...they weren't going anywhere. Tyler smiled and was happy to be in such predicament.
After an hour of looking over each ram carefully, and there were some nice ones, we bagged up our equipment and told Jared we were headed over to see what he had spotted. Jared was posted on a ridgetop above the 2 rams he spotted earlier in the morning although they were now out of sight so he wouldn't spook them. It took a little while for us to ascend to the top ridge and work our way north towards Jared's location. The westerly wind minimized our noises from below as we worked the ridge line down. "Jared can't be too much further" I exclaimed. I peered downslope to the west and noticed some dark figures. It took a second to realize I was looking at three rams which had us pinned. "Rams!" I whispered excitedly. We slowly fell to our knees and having put my binos in my pack, I asked Tyler to quickly check them out. "They're huge Mike!" I pulled my binos from my pack and could not believe what I was looking at.
Two of the rams were indeed huge. "That isn't Honey!" I whispered a bit confused. Just then, another smaller ram entered the picture. They knew something was watching them from 300 yards above but they were motionless...waiting for our next move. I promised myself and Tyler that I would not sway him to shoot any ram, it was his hunt and his preference as to what he wanted in a ram; however, I knew we were looking at not just one but two great big rams, bigger than any we had seen to this point...including our legendary friend Honey. One of the rams stuck out more than the others. His heavy horns reflected the sunlight like a satellite dish and along with his long horn length made him almost to good to be true. "Shoot the upper right ram Tyler!"
We would have liked to have reached into Tyler's pack to pull out the big camera but everything happened quickly and all eyes were upon us. We couldn't get away with the movement. As Tyler adjusted the pack as a rifle rest and tried like hell to calm down, I quickly called Jared and asked if he was filming with his camera. He said he was. Tyler's barrel was proof of how he was feeling. It swayed like canary grass in a hurricane as he breathed heavily and adjusted his numbing feet. "Can you see how big he is?" I barked. "No, he is just a small, small ram Mike." ..."a small, little ram" Tyler replied trying his best to keep his eyes off the horns and focused on the front shoulder.
The largest ram stood over another ram making a risky shot. Seconds turned into minutes as we waited for the ram to move enough for a better shot. Finally, the cautious giant headed north, towards the roadless country, as if he decided there is a threat and he was going to to be no part of it, but the other rams remained still. The big ram turned and looked at the others and for whatever reason turned around and began walking back towards the herd, giving Tyler the chance of a lifetime.
The sheep stopped and the report of the rifle was music to our ears. After some follow-up shots the biggest ram dropped into his final resting place. Tyler screamed a war whoop and it was then we realized Jared was just on another side of the rock from us, not 15 ft. away during the entire ordeal. Tyler grinned ear to ear accomplishing what he had worked so hard to do. It's difficult to describe the emotional high we felt. Mother nature tried her best throwing obstacles throughout the hunt. The wind, rain, hail, and dust was wearing on us all after 7 days in the elements; however. Tyler's motivation and discipline to move forward and measure each ram and have the self-will to turn away from many nice rams to continue searching for the one ram that you lose sleep over. This ram was the one.
So there you have the details from Tyler's sheep hunt through the eyes of one of his friends that was fortunate enough to be a part of such an incredible adventure. Thanks Tyler for allowing me to tag along. For now, I will just dream for the day that someone in my own family draws a sheep tag...hopefully Honey is still around...and I am as well.
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| Sunset on sheep country...Until next time |
4 comments:
Just like I was there...fun pictures! Thanks for inviting Jared, he had a great time! Happy Birthday, too!
Well documented my adventurous brother. Thanks for letting me join in some of the pre-hunt festivities. I was looking forward to these pictures. What a beautiful huge ram! - Anthony
Unfreakingbeliveable! What a story, what a ram, what a blog post! Awesome photos, looks like an amazing adventure.
Dax
Sweet story Mike, loved the read. Your photos are un-real, so is that ram. Congrates Tyler!!!
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