OOPS
I got invited to go hunting for Bighorn
sheep in Wyoming
one time. That was something both Stanley and I had talked and dreamed about
when we were kids and even though Stanley
wasn't going to get to go with me it was just to good an opportunity to pass
up.
We were going to be hunting in the mountains
above Jacksons Hole and all I had to do was get my license and get to Jacksons
Hole. The guy I was going with was a guide and he was going to stick me in with
a party he had all ready booked. I had to promise not to tell anyone else that
I was going along for free because the rest of the guys had spent big bucks for
the trip. We were going to ride back in
the mountains (he supplied the horses) and set up camp for the week long hunt
(he supplied the tents and all the food, I had to help cook and clean). I
didn't even have to bring a rifle if I didn't want to as he said he had a 30-06
that I could borrow. That was extra nice of him but I already had a 308 that I
had zeroed in and was comfortable with.
He told me to come on down anytime I wanted
so I got to his house a couple of days before we were supposed to leave. I
figured that since this was going to be a free trip the least I could do was
get there in time to try and help him get ready.
We looked like a bunch of pioneers when we
set out that first morning. Six hunters,
including me, one guide, two helpers and six pack horses. His helpers were
along to set up the tents, take care of the horses and do most of the cooking.
I kept trying to help but them boys had such a good system going that I mostly
just got in the way. We spent most of the first day getting up to the camping
area and believe me, after six hours in the saddle there was lots of groaning
and moaning by the time we finally got there. It surprised me when we got to
the site to see two big tents already set up along with a couple of tables and
a nice fire pit. It seems that our guide and his helpers had already been up
there the week before and set up most of the camp site. Talking to him that
night I found out that being a guide for big game was a lot more than just
taking a few guys hunting! No wonder he had to charge as much as he did!
The next morning I found out that my hunting
experience was going to be a little different than the other guys. The guide
and me were up before the rest of the hunters and as we were having our morning
coffee he explained that he was going to have to spend most of his time with
the paying guests. His plan was to take each of them to a pre selected spot
where they would each be able to watch part of a well used trail. The spots
were close enough together that he would be able watch all five of them from
one spot and move to help which ever one might need it. As for me, he spread a
topo map on the table and started pointing out the best places for me to check
out. In other words I was going to be pretty well on my own. Part of me was
proud that he trusted me enough to send me out on my own and the other part was
a little worried just because this was my first hunt for Bighorns. Really I
didn't figure I was going to have any problems. After all even though it was my
first bighorn hunt at that time I'd already hunted deer, bear, hogs and
mountain lions, all of them by myself. It might be different game but it was
still hunting.
We all saw bighorns on our first day all
though the ones I saw were just white rumps disappearing over a mountain top
but it wasn't until the third day that some one actually got one and it wasn't
me. The guy got a really nice three quarter curl. Our guide was working with
him that morning and was able to get the hunter within two hundred yards of it.
The guide field dressed it and came back to camp to get one of the pack horses
to haul it back to camp. My question was how are they going to take care of the
meat for the next three days. It was pretty cool at night where we were but it
still got to hot during the day to hang meat that long. My question was
answered when they got back to camp. The hunter and one of the helpers would
take it back to the guides ranch. The hunter had the choice of coming back to
camp or staying at the ranch. All he had was a permit for one so the only thing
he would be able to do in camp was hang out with the other guys in the evening.
I did feel sorry for the helper, he didn't have a choice, he'd have to come
back which meant 12 hours in the saddle.
Day four another of the hunters got one. it
was only a half curl but still legal and I think the reason he settled for one
that small was because we were getting desperate. We only had one more day to
tag out. The first hunter had decided to stay at the ranch and it was sounding
like this one was going to do the same. That left three paid hunters and me to
try and get one the next day. I wasn't sure I was going to even get a shot at
one. I had seen quite a few including one really massive full curl but hadn't
been able to get within range of any.
Last day. I was planning on being out and
watching before daylight but it seemed like every time I got ready to leave
camp something came up to keep me from going. I finally got out of camp around
seven and it was at least an hours hike to the place I wanted to hunt. I had
found a spot at the edge of a steep gorge where I had seen the big one the day
before. The opposite side of the gorge was a cliff with grassy slopes on each
side and less than four hundred yards away. I had seen a herd of 15 sheep the
day before and figured they were getting water from the creek at the bottom of
the gorge then coming back up to feed. I hadn't hunting in that area before and
didn't know the gorge was there until I walked out of the trees. I saw the
sheep as soon as I stepped out of the tress, unfortunately they saw me at the
same time and before I could bring my gun up or even think about taking a shot
they took off at a dead run up the side of the cliff and over the top. I was
determined to was their trail all day if I had too, just in case they came
back. I knew that this would be my last chance of getting one for this trip and
I doubted that I'd ever get the chance to make another one.
I found a downed tree right at the edge of
the timber line where I had a good view of the cliff face on the other side of
the gorge and settled in as best I could. The tree not only gave me some
concealment but mad a great rest for my rifle. I had a cheap range finder back
then and checking the cliff face I found the longest distance was where the
trail got right to the top which was a little over four hundred seventy five
yards and the closest was right at four hundred. Now I just needed the sheep to
show up!
It was a little past noon when I saw the
first sheep on top of the gorge. I had thought maybe I would see them coming up
from the creek so I had been concentrating on that area and only happened to
glance up and see her. I don't even know how long she had been there but she
was definitely moving down the cliff and as I watched another came over the top
and followed her, now I just need the ram to show up. I tried not to move an
inch as I watched a stream of sheep come over the top of the gorge. I didn't
want to do anything that might scare them.
It didn't take long for all the ewes to be
down feeding on the slops next to the cliff but no ram! Another hour of just
watching the ewes eat grass when I looked back at the top of the bluff and
noticed a coupe of rocks that looked different than the rest of the slope. They
were rounded and it took a second for me to realize that they were moving! It
was the ram! I was seeing the top of his horns as he came over the top. I
pretty well held my breath as I watched his horns then head then body come over
the to and head toward the slope. I knew I should wait until he was on the
slope and feeding before I attempted a shot but time was running out and I was
getting desperate. On top of that this was the biggest ram we had seen on the
entire trip! i already had my rifle laying on the tree trunk and very carefully
I eased it up where I could see through the scope. I took a minute to find him
and by then he was half way across the cliff. I got a good bead on him, no wind
to worry about and I knew how much I needed to hold over him at that distance.
To tell you the truth I was thinking of only one thing at that minute, getting
that bighorn. I didn't even take into consideration anything else as I squeezed
that trigger. Perfect shot! I saw the dust jump from his hide right at the spot
behind the shoulder that I had been aiming at! He fell right where he was
standing. I jumped up and hollered loud enough to scare the ewes half to death.
I saw them all take off running up the gorge but my main focus was on the ram!
I was busy patting myself on the back and thinking of the bragging rights I
would have back at camp when I thought I saw him move. My heart leaped into my
throat as I yanked my rifle back up. I was sure I had hit him dead center and
could not believe that he could still be alive. By the time I got the scope to
my eye and looked through it I couldn't find him. What the hell! I looked over
the scope to see where he was and my heart sank that time. The movement I had
seen wasn't him getting up, it was because he had started to slide down the
cliff. He stopped at the bottom and ended up laying on a pile of rocks that had
fallen from the cliff.
I was thankful that he hadn't slid all the
way to the bottom, for about a minute, then my brain kicked in. Even though he
was less that four hundred yards away he was still on the other side of the
gorge, how the hell was I going to be able to get him back to camp? I've done
lots of things in my life without really thinking them through and as I stood
there looking across that gorge I realized that I had done it again, big time!
Something I should have seen right off was the gorge was at least four hundred
feet deep with a small creek running along the bottom and yes I did see that
but I didn't SEE it. I was so homed in on the sheep I just didn't pay
attention. The gorge continued at about that depth for as far up the mountain
as I could see. On the down stream side it widened out and got deeper. Another
thing I hadn't paid attention to was the side of the gorge I was on, for a few
hundred feet on either side of me it was pretty close to a straight down cliff
all the way to the creek and I could see no way to climb down it.
I was still standing there staring at my ram
when the guide showed up. The first thing he said was that he had heard me
shoot and he wanted to know if I had got one. I just pointed across the gorge.
It took him a minute to spot the ram. He walked up to the edge and looked at
the ram then he looked down at the bottom of the gorge then at me, back at the
ram, down the gorge and back at me, he just shook his head that time. I tried
to explain why I had to shoot the ram where he was asked him to use his
binoculars to check out the horns. He agreed that it was a really nice ram and
ask me how we were going to get him back to our side. I had lots of things to
say about the ram and not one thing on how we could do that.
We ended up with him going back to camp and
getting his helpers (of course the other hunters came along and immediately
started telling me how i had screwed up) The guide wouldn't let his helpers try
and cross the gorge with him because he thought it was to dangerous but he did
need some help, guess who he picked. We had to hike down stream for about a
half mile before we found a spot we thought we could climb down. He did pretty
good on the way down I think I slid more than I climbed but we finally made it
to the creek at the bottom, him standing on the rocky bank and me sitting in
the middle from missing the last rock. I case none of you have ever had the
pleasure of sitting in one let me tell you, Wyoming creeks are COLD! I bout killed
myself stumbling over the rocks on our way back upstream but at least I only
fell in the creek twice (the guide only slipped once and stuck his leg in it).
It was getting late in the afternoon by the
time we made it to a spot under the ram. Now all we had to do was climb up to
him. It wasn't quite as bad as climbing down but it sure wasn't easy either. By
the time we got up to him I was all for just shoving him off the rocks and let
him slide to the bottom. The guide pointed out that there was too much chance
of damaging his horns or the meat if we did that and with the work we were
having to do to retrieve him he wasn't about to lose any part of him. We had to
hold and guide him all the way to the bottom. I got the distinct idea the guide
wasn't real happy with me when he made me take the bottom while he held the
horns. That meant I had to go down the slope backwards while pulling on the
ram. Other than slipping, falling and ending up with most of the ram in my lap
half a dozen times, it wasn't too bad.
Once we got him to the bottom he used his
radio to tell his helper to drop us a rope. he had told them before we left to
tie all the rope they had together and see if it would reach the bottom. his
plan was for us to tie it to the ram and have the guys up top tie it to a horse
and pull the ram to the top. Neither of us was sure his plan was going to work
but we sure hoped it would because the idea of trying to drag a two hundred
pound ram up the slope we had climbed down wasn't something we wanted to think
about. Luckily the rope made it to the bottom and we tied it around the horns
and he gave them the OK to pull it up. It went up about twenty feet then came
right back down. Same result the next two times they tried it and I was trying
to think if it would be better to try and drag him up the slope in one piece or
if we should clean him and have to make more than one trip. I missed what he
was saying on the radio from worrying about the climb but all of a sudden the
ram started up the side again. That time it went all the way to the top. We
could hear all the guys at the top yelling they had it and sounding happy,
trust me, they were no where near as happy as I was! I found out later that
they had use two horses to get him to the top. Now we just had to get ourselves
back to the top.
By the time we got back to out climbing spot
it was starting to get dark. Neither of us was looking forward to trying to
climb back up in the dark but the thought of being stuck in the bottom of the
gorge overnight sounded even less fun. That was one of the hardest climbs I
think I have ever made and by the time we got to the top I had more cuts,
scrapes and bruises than I could count plus I had ripped half the leg off my
jeans from falling over a sharp rock. Once we reached level ground I collapsed
and had to lay there for at least fifteen minutes before I had the strength to
stand up. Everyone admire the ram and agreed that it was the biggest of the
hunt (the other paid hunters came up empty) but I also had to listen to all the
things I done wrong the whole way back to camp and half the night after we got
there. We packed up and headed back to the ranch the next morning and again, I
got to listen to non stop advice the entire trip.
The guy that had invited me and was our
guide was really nice about it and helped me dress the ram and get it packed
for the trip home. I apologized at least a hundred times for the trouble I had
cause him and every time he just smiled and said it was OK however, that was
over 35 years ago and I've never been invited back so maybe it wasn't as OK as
he said...
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