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Anniversary Hunt

See this story in the Summer 2008 Issue of Trophy Hunter Magazine

As with all stories, this one starts with a simple impulse. On April 30th, 2007 I was in the Driggs Idaho Corner Drug store getting what I hoped to be the summer supply of allergy medicine for my 6th summer in Teton Valley Idaho. While I was waiting for the prescription, I filled out the form for my annual fishing and hunting license combo. Elsie Woulk mentioned that the 30th was the last day for application on controlled hunts so coincidentally I put in for my first lottery try on Big Horn Sheep. No one I know has ever drawn a Sheep Tag in Idaho so I put in for my wife Star at the same time hoping to increase the odds. In early June I stopped as I do every morning to check our P.O. box and found the expected sorry Charlie note from Idaho Fish and Game on Star’s draw request. Strangely there was no note on mine. I figured the mail was just a day late on mine and expected the same in a day or so. We live in Felt Idaho population 52. We get the USA Today guaranteed delivery tomorrow, so a delay in the mail is not a crisis. The next day sure enough the letter from Idaho Fish and Game came for me in exactly the same looking envelope as had been sent to Star. I almost threw the dang thing out without opening it but being a glutton for punishment I opened it expecting to see the reject wording. Imagine my shock and delight when the letter started out with Congratulations!

I asked Star [my wife] if she wanted to go. Happily for me, she was very positive about a combo hunt for Sheep and Deer which we booked. George and I were both surprised when she not only said yes to the trip, but wrote out her own check for half the cost. Of course the surprise was over when she quietly said that she could not think of a better way to spend our 4th anniversary which I had totally forgotte! I fear there may be a pay back in my future, which if I am lucky may be another hunt trip.

Tag Drawn.Trip Booked…next came the conditioning which consisted of 3 to 5 treadmill days each week, some diet changes and a commitment to take advantage of the great hiking we enjoy near our home at the foot of the Grand Teton. Lucky for me we live at 6800 feet in elevation. I dropped a few pounds and increased my wind a bit but even a fairly fit 62 year old will have a tough time in the River of No Return Wilderness. There is no terrain more vertical in the state and the big rams do not hang out at the bottom. We would have to go up to have any chance of these tremendous creatures.

(1)

The stage was set and now the work began. I was able to follow through on most of the conditioning and could not wait for the flight in to area 26. My hope was to be able to get in position to see Rams and if I was lucky enough to get a chance to stalk, be in shape to do my job. The way I see it the guide does most of the hunting and the hunter is along for a lifetime adventure and the thrilling experience of hunting North America’s toughest game trophy. My job was to keep up (no easy task), keep quiet and shoot straight if given the opportunity. The flight with our pilot Steve was through some cloud cover and involved looking for a hole in the clouds to clear the highest of the ridges. Star was in the front of the small 4 seat Cessna and I was in the back with our gear. The country was rocky, grey and vertical dropping down thousands of feet to the Salmon River and its many small tributaries. We rolled and weaved through the mountain canyons and descended toward a small landing strip some 60 miles from the nearest road or trail head. The Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness is the largest mass of land in the lower forty eight without roads. As we circled in, I could make out two strings of horses and mules heading for the small strip. We soon found out that the welcome party was four hunters coming out and the High Country crew ready to get us on our way. After a smooth landing on the gravel strip we spent some time on introductions and watched as the outfitters unpacked deer, elk and gear for the departing group and packed up the gear we had brought. Among this group was Jeremy Haney a 21 year old fire fighter who grew up on a horse ranch in Oklahoma. In the 34 degree grey morning, Jeremy had on a cotton tee shirt and coon skin cap that one of the departing hunters had dared him to wear. When I learned that Jeremy was to be one on our guides, I wondered if my fate was to spend two weeks in the mountains with a hillbilly. It turns out that Jeremy like most of the young wranglers and guides was taking up the challenge of mountain living and working to save some cash for school. What these boys make generally goes to savings since it is pretty hard to spend money when you are in the wilderness for months on end. It was October 12th and Jeremy had been in the wilderness since August. He came out with us at the end of our hunt and went to do some hunting of his own hear his home east of Boise.

The outfitter, had told me that besides Jeremy, we would be hunting with an experienced sheep guide Shane Reynolds from Boise. When the gear was nearly packed, a second small plane landed and we met Shane for the first time. This was the time for first impressions and Shane made a good one. Square shouldered, pigeon chested, thin waist and piston legs, Shane was the ultimate walking machine and I found out soon enough a dog nuts sheep man. We would trust our fate to this man for at least ten days and I was impressed by his professional demeanor. On the other hand I would have a lot to do to change Shane’s first impression of the couple he first met on that small air strip. You see my grandfather had been a hunt guide and school teacher in Basalt Colorado in the 20’s. I do not hunt in camo, I still have my Trapper Nelson wood frame pack, the gun I shoot best weighs 11.5 lbs and I think we may be the first grey haired old hunter and wife combo that Shane had guided. No high tech here just old school. Shane would later find out that Star was raised without her mother by a father who valued hunting and the outdoors. She has hunted deer since her eighth year and spent two years working cattle in southern Oregon.

(2)

Sleeping on the ground and enduring freezing temperatures is nothing new to my bride. Shane of course did not know any of this until day three or four. His first thought was they brought too much gear (he was right) and he might be in for a tough trip. Shane’s first comment to me after the name exchange was “Are you tough?” I was puzzled at first but now remembering how we must have looked to him, it was and appropriate question. I told Shane that I had killed sheep before and thought that I would be as tough as I had to be. He told me that George had a spot that had not seen any pressure and held some good Rams. Shane also told me that I was the guy he would be taking along to harvest a big one. There was a resolve in Shane’s comments and a commitment to making this a fruitful hunt. Later I found out that this was Shane’s 20th sheep hunt with a client and this would be his 15th kill. Most impressive though is the fact that in a mix of Rocky Mountain, Dall, and Desert sheep hunts, Shane has given his clients 100% opportunity under 200 yards from a dead rest.

From the air strip, it was off to the base camp for a quick few minutes to pack food and a small tent for Star and I. Shane and Jeremy planned to sleep on the horse blankets under a tarp. Pedro, a stocky paint horse, was my ride and became a friend as well. High Country has good stock and there would be no outfitter rodeos on this trip. I asked the fellows what they were packing for food and Shane nicely reminded me that we were here to hunt not to eat. The bill of fare would be ready meals, energy bars, oatmeal, coffee, and dry mix gator aid. Shane figured this would be an extension of my efforts to lose weight and was a lot less expensive than the fat farm route. All meals could be prepared on the small whisper lite stove. Jeremy later proved that the stove could be of great assistance in fire starting with snow covered wood. Since it was our anniversary the next day the guides threw in some fresh eggs and a little bacon but in the excitement to get up to our glassing spot to look for sheep, the fry pan was forgotten… fairly essential tool for bacon and eggs. As it turned out Star and I enjoyed the ready meals, canned tuna, bagels, and cheese whiz that became our diet for the next six days. Star had five 4×4 Mule deer opportunities during the sheep hunt but passed because she did not want to shoot until we had a Ram. So there was no back strap for us.

At the end of day one we made camp in a small wooded clearing near a spring at the top of a no name mountain in some of the roughest country in Idaho. This spot was a 30 minute walk from a ridge point that allowed Jeremy, Shane and I to use our optics in search of the Rams on a mountain side some 2 miles across the intervening drainage. Day one spotted nice ram three quarters of the way up the mountain that we were scoping. Day two spotted more rams and shared some fine wine for our anniversary. We had both brought cards and it was special to have that day in these surroundings so far from the world we are more familiar with., day three spotted more Rams and one really nice mature Ram all near the top with cracker jack views of all around them. It was time to get going. The weather had been cold and windy with overcast, light rain and snow. Nice weather compared to the heavy snow and rain to come. By the way when the spotting phase began, Shane again proved to be the fanatic sheep man I referenced at our landing.

(3)

When we set up to glass the object mountain, Shane poured at least 15k of well cared for optics from his pack and did not look up from his spotting task for three days.

I don’t know about you but the spotting scope gets me in the neck. I have to take at least 15 minutes out every hour and stretch out the frozen joints. Shane told Star and I that the guides three P’s are patience, persistence and positivity. Shane and Jeremy score high on all three When the spotting was done we had seen a number of good Rams .I use the “we” loosely as Jeremy and I were up to a grand total of zero, naught, nada, none and Shane had the rest.

The trip to our higher camp was almost a full day. The terrain was too steep to ride so the horses and mules were led most of the way and camp was made in a saddle about two thirds up the mountain we would be hunting. The walk to water was about two hundred yards straight downhill and there was no noticeable trail in or out of this place. Now that Shane knew that there were good Rams in the area, a no nonsense attitude began to show through. These young men were exactly the ticket for taking Rams. I knew that they would do their job and the only question was if I could do mine. It would not be the wind, sleet, and snow that kept me awake that night, it was the excitement of the hunt. The next morning day four started with a small fire and a good hike up to the middle of the rock canyons that we had spent the previous three days looking over through our spotting scopes. Star gave me a good luck kiss and elected to tend the camp instead of risking any interference to the hunt.(Her nick name is fidgets) At 1pm Shane looked over and gave me the thumbs up! He let me look at a nice size full curl Ram that was broomed on one side. Shane said the good news was we found a shooter and the bad news was he was in one of the worst spots around at the top of a small slide that fed to the creek below and nestled in trees and rock below a bigger rock out cropping. Getting to this Ram would be tough and we could be easily busted because of the loose rocks and steep walls. I had told Shane that I would like a good Ram but did not want anything other than a representative of the species. Other states are historically better producers of the B&C horns. Idaho has a low population of sheep and does not produce the horn size that Colorado and Montana generally claim. After watching the Ram feed and bed for a bit, we decided to give it a try. If the rocks were positioned better on the back side of the outcropping, which we could not see, there might be a 150 yard shot at steep angle. Jeremy stayed in our original position to let us know what happened when it was all over. It was about a mile climb and side hill trek through new snow and over very uneven steep surfaces. We hoped the other Rams we had seen the day before were not going to give away our position as we carefully moved step by step closer to the Shooter. At about 4pm we got close enough to start looking over rock tops. So far I had kept up and kept quiet, big parts of my job. We looked up over what we hoped to be the final rock and could not see where the Ram had previously bedded. During the time it had taken to get into this position, the old battle scared Ram had moved and unfortunately for us he had moved to a spot that gave him a nice view of the old man and young guide in the rocks above. As the Ram beat it down the cliffs, we broke position and tried to close the gap. This was a time that I truly questioned my sanity because the drop offs were over a hundred feet and I was literally rock hoping to try and gain a vantage point.( not normal for 62 year old executives.)

(4)

When the rock hopping was done and I got to a shooting position, the Ram had reached the bottom of the slide (his proven escape route) about 150 yards down in burnt timber and was about to drive up the other side. I had a shot at 150 yards on this moving Ram in the timber and had him clear in the scope for about two seconds. This was not a shot that I was prepared to take on such a beautiful creature. I passed and we were busted big time as the Ram walked over the rocky crevice to the safety of the next canyon where we had been several hours before.

I knew that the odds of shooting a Ram that had been spotted by glassing might be in the 50% category if you had some good luck. I also knew that odds of spotting and hunting a Ram that knew he was being hunted are next to nothing. Remember the positivity? And the three P’s? Well we had plenty of that and I was grateful to have had the chance that I did have. What better experience than hunting the most magnificent of creatures in his own house.

Day five came with more snow and a good send off from Star. We decided to send Jeremy back to the ridge where we were busted the day before and for me and Shane to do some more rock climbing in the next lower canyons where we thought he might have gone. After a lot of bino work in the falling snow to re-aquire the Roman Nosed Battle scarred Ram, Shane again gave me the thumbs up. Instead of clearing out of the county, the old Ram had bedded down in the Canyon that gave him sanctuary the night before. At 11a.m. he was working up the hill feeding and really looking around. This guy was nervous as hell and was taking no chances. He gingerly bedded down about thirty yards below the slope he had disappeared over the night before. We knew he would not be there for long and luckily enough Jeremy was positioned at the top of the ridge that he was on. Shane and I backed out of our spot and moved quickly to Jeremy’s position. Took about and hour. The three of us then made it ever so slowly down the rock ridge back to the rocks we thought were just above the Ram’s last bedded position. It was about 800 yards of descent. I moved to a position behind a rock that might do for a rifle rest and Shane began to poke his head up. Jeremy laid back. In the five days together I had never seen Shane look like this. Cursing lightly in a whisper, all I heard was he’s not there, we have been had. Patience and persistence took over and we began to look around. After an agonizing three or four minutes of feeling a bottomless failure, the Ram walked slowly back into the picture from my left. He had been just over the ridge feeding and was now on his way back to bed down. Shane had to show me exactly where he was about 150 yards to my left behind some timber and brush. I raised my old Weatherby 270 mag over the rock and found a steady rest but there was no shot through the brush and trees. The Ram was still jumpy and we knew he could bolt at any moment. I kept on him with the scope and he moved forward slightly giving me about a one foot round hole in the brush that lined up with his right shoulder. Shooting down hill meant the shot through his shoulder would hit the vitals. Shane said wait for him to move from behind the trees and I said I have a shot through the brush. Shane got to “well if you think you”… boom came the report of the rifle and the old battle scarred Ram dropped dead in a pile by a log that mercifully kept him from a 200 foot fall.

(5)

The emotion over came us all as the Ram was down and each of us had done well on our assigned tasks. When we got to the Ram, Shane let me know that he had purposefully under spoken on the Ram’s size earlier. He did not want me to get any of the jitters associated with record book talk. Charles Russell once said “Meats not Meat till it’s in the pan”, and I guess “trophies aren’t trophies till they’re on the ground”.

From a clients perspective there should be three P’s for the guide as well “Professional, Passionate and Prepared”. On the prepared side, the pictures took an hour with two cameras and the Ram repositioned a couple of times. The hunt of a lifetime deserves at least this kind of effort. So to does the soul of the great animal and the wonderful life lived. It took several hours to cape, bone, photograph, pack and gratefully get our tired bodies back to camp. Star had gotten the water and taken care of the stock which was appreciated by all. Sheep ribs over an open fire on a snowy evening were a great treat. I believe this anniversary will be tough to beat but if the stars line up right again who knows…

Thanks to my lovely wife for sharing the outdoors..

Thanks to [the Outfitter] for good stock, good tack and good people.

Thanks to [the Pilots] for safe flights.

Thanks to the young men like Shane and Jeremy for loving what they do.

Thanks to Mother Nature for the great wild places

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