marksjeep
Well-known member
Thanks for taking the time to write all this down and share the photos. Amazing, all of it.
Bury Me In The Mackenzie Mountains
- Thread starter Big Fin
- Start date
elkrchr
Well-known member
Enjoy coffee with the wife this morning. Simply amazing storyline and photos thus far. Cannot wait to read about the next eight days!
August 13 (Hunting Day #3)
Having rolled in the night before at 8:30 and it being 11:00pm before we finished dinner, unloaded packs, hung meat, and told or re-told stories of the day, it was harder to get up as early as the previous two days. Add in the pelting rain and I was thinking of reasons to stay in my warm sleeping bag.
Jesse had breakfast ready around 6:30am. I started with coffee, as I wouldn't be shooting today, so no need to worry about how caffeine might alter my marksmanship. Two cups for celebration.
The plan was hatched that all efforts by all people was to get Andy his ram. A guy I had only known for four days, and via a lot of emails and phone calls over the summer, had passed on a ram that I got to shoot, had loaned me his rifle, and carried a large portion of that ram off the mountain down to the horses. Proving even more why the folks at the Arizona Desert Bighorn Sheep Society were so excited that Andy was the sweepstakes winner. I told Riley, my guide, that whatever it takes to get Andy a ram, I would do it, whether that is helping, hiking, riding, or just staying out of the way.
Since every trip downriver seemed to produce even better country, the strategy Jason explained to Riley was that he, Andy, and Marcus would go down even further and explore some drainages on the back side of what they called Lone Mountain, a rugged eruption of rock and scree visible from camp.
With cape and meat to care for, Marcus gave me instructions to film Riley doing all of those tasks that come with caring for meat, horns, and hides out in the middle of nowhere. Sounds good to me.
With breakfast barely finished, the guys were loaded. Andy would be on Flash, my horse from the first two days. Marcus would have Duke, the largest, strongest, and smoothest of these amazing mountain horses. Jason always took Wire, the leader of the group whose experience gave him knowledge of every trail, whether daylight or dark.
A lot of the hunting report from this day are notes I took when the crew returned that night. We have switched to using iPhone 15 ProMax for the amazing video quality, pairing them with new remote mics to improve audio. They also make for great dictation devices that I can then use for these stories after the hunt.
Riley is working on the cape while I film. Ty is hanging the meat in the shade, in a small tent-like device they carry to keep flies off. Riley has done this many times, and it shows. He's meticulous with every small cut. When he is done, the hide looks like it was professionally fleshed, rather than clean skinned in the field.
By noon, the sun is trying to break through. I use these few rays to dry gear from yesterday, while keeping an eye on the river flats for a wandering caribou. It wouldn't be the first time a caribou was shot on the river flats from this camp.
Riley explains that with the meat and cape work done, we should give Ty a break. Riley suggests that he and I will go for an afternoon caribou hunt. I'd hunt Mountain Caribou any day, any time, and under any conditions, so my pack is loaded and ready.
Given the stiffness that comes with horse riding, when Riley suggested we hike upriver a few miles, I concurred. My legs would benefit from some hiking and rest from the saddle and stirrups. I suspect he was not wanting to risk my marginal riding talents any more than necessary, so suggesting we hike might have been with ulterior motives.
We left camp around 2:30, examining a ton of grizzly sign as we moved along. I expected to see one around every corner in the trail. We did encounter a group of very tame ptarmigan. I asked Riley the rules and season dates. He wasn't sure. With no shotgun in hand, it didn't matter, though the thought of shooting one with the 7mm-08 was on my mind.
We hiked for a couple miles to a great knob overlooking a huge amount of terrain and a long stretch of river bottom. With the clouds breaking, it became almost too hot. It surely brought the mosquitos out in full force.
The tally for the evening was some bull caribou too far distant to even be assessed properly, one small bull moose that laid down in a creek below us, and three young rams on the face of Lone Mountain visible to us. I hoped that the other side of the mountain would provide Andy with more results than we had seen.
Riley and I got back to camp around 8:30. Don't ask me how she did it, but Jesse had prepared three pizzas in cast iron skillets. She also had whipped up a cheesecake for dessert. Amazing. I felt bad eating before Jason led the crew back to camp, but my stomach showed no remorse.
Jason, Marcus and Andy return around 9:45. They saw four rams; a group of three and one lone ram. Marcus had footage of all of them. One in that group of three seemed to me to be a very good ram; heavily broomed with great mass. Given it was Day 3, Andy passed, even though they rode horses to within 650 yards.
These rams were also in the spruce trees. I never expected to see rams in the trees, but in places where there was a strip of spruce running up a steep slope, the rams were comfortable feeding in there. Riley surmised that the quality of the feed was worth the higher predation risk that came with being in the trees.
Andy was upbeat and excited with what they were seeing. If he was excited, that's all that mattered to me. He did talk about how Flash kept laying down every time they stopped to glass. Little did we know what that might mean for the future of this hunt. A photo taken shortly after Andy pulled his rifle from the scabbard and not knowing how many times Flash may have rolled over it.
A few pics Marcus took from that day.
To bed around 11:45 with a full day of caribou hunting planned for tomorrow.
Having rolled in the night before at 8:30 and it being 11:00pm before we finished dinner, unloaded packs, hung meat, and told or re-told stories of the day, it was harder to get up as early as the previous two days. Add in the pelting rain and I was thinking of reasons to stay in my warm sleeping bag.
Jesse had breakfast ready around 6:30am. I started with coffee, as I wouldn't be shooting today, so no need to worry about how caffeine might alter my marksmanship. Two cups for celebration.
The plan was hatched that all efforts by all people was to get Andy his ram. A guy I had only known for four days, and via a lot of emails and phone calls over the summer, had passed on a ram that I got to shoot, had loaned me his rifle, and carried a large portion of that ram off the mountain down to the horses. Proving even more why the folks at the Arizona Desert Bighorn Sheep Society were so excited that Andy was the sweepstakes winner. I told Riley, my guide, that whatever it takes to get Andy a ram, I would do it, whether that is helping, hiking, riding, or just staying out of the way.
Since every trip downriver seemed to produce even better country, the strategy Jason explained to Riley was that he, Andy, and Marcus would go down even further and explore some drainages on the back side of what they called Lone Mountain, a rugged eruption of rock and scree visible from camp.
With cape and meat to care for, Marcus gave me instructions to film Riley doing all of those tasks that come with caring for meat, horns, and hides out in the middle of nowhere. Sounds good to me.
With breakfast barely finished, the guys were loaded. Andy would be on Flash, my horse from the first two days. Marcus would have Duke, the largest, strongest, and smoothest of these amazing mountain horses. Jason always took Wire, the leader of the group whose experience gave him knowledge of every trail, whether daylight or dark.
A lot of the hunting report from this day are notes I took when the crew returned that night. We have switched to using iPhone 15 ProMax for the amazing video quality, pairing them with new remote mics to improve audio. They also make for great dictation devices that I can then use for these stories after the hunt.
Riley is working on the cape while I film. Ty is hanging the meat in the shade, in a small tent-like device they carry to keep flies off. Riley has done this many times, and it shows. He's meticulous with every small cut. When he is done, the hide looks like it was professionally fleshed, rather than clean skinned in the field.
By noon, the sun is trying to break through. I use these few rays to dry gear from yesterday, while keeping an eye on the river flats for a wandering caribou. It wouldn't be the first time a caribou was shot on the river flats from this camp.
Riley explains that with the meat and cape work done, we should give Ty a break. Riley suggests that he and I will go for an afternoon caribou hunt. I'd hunt Mountain Caribou any day, any time, and under any conditions, so my pack is loaded and ready.
Given the stiffness that comes with horse riding, when Riley suggested we hike upriver a few miles, I concurred. My legs would benefit from some hiking and rest from the saddle and stirrups. I suspect he was not wanting to risk my marginal riding talents any more than necessary, so suggesting we hike might have been with ulterior motives.
We left camp around 2:30, examining a ton of grizzly sign as we moved along. I expected to see one around every corner in the trail. We did encounter a group of very tame ptarmigan. I asked Riley the rules and season dates. He wasn't sure. With no shotgun in hand, it didn't matter, though the thought of shooting one with the 7mm-08 was on my mind.
We hiked for a couple miles to a great knob overlooking a huge amount of terrain and a long stretch of river bottom. With the clouds breaking, it became almost too hot. It surely brought the mosquitos out in full force.
The tally for the evening was some bull caribou too far distant to even be assessed properly, one small bull moose that laid down in a creek below us, and three young rams on the face of Lone Mountain visible to us. I hoped that the other side of the mountain would provide Andy with more results than we had seen.
Riley and I got back to camp around 8:30. Don't ask me how she did it, but Jesse had prepared three pizzas in cast iron skillets. She also had whipped up a cheesecake for dessert. Amazing. I felt bad eating before Jason led the crew back to camp, but my stomach showed no remorse.
Jason, Marcus and Andy return around 9:45. They saw four rams; a group of three and one lone ram. Marcus had footage of all of them. One in that group of three seemed to me to be a very good ram; heavily broomed with great mass. Given it was Day 3, Andy passed, even though they rode horses to within 650 yards.
These rams were also in the spruce trees. I never expected to see rams in the trees, but in places where there was a strip of spruce running up a steep slope, the rams were comfortable feeding in there. Riley surmised that the quality of the feed was worth the higher predation risk that came with being in the trees.
Andy was upbeat and excited with what they were seeing. If he was excited, that's all that mattered to me. He did talk about how Flash kept laying down every time they stopped to glass. Little did we know what that might mean for the future of this hunt. A photo taken shortly after Andy pulled his rifle from the scabbard and not knowing how many times Flash may have rolled over it.
A few pics Marcus took from that day.
To bed around 11:45 with a full day of caribou hunting planned for tomorrow.
August 14 (Hunting Day #4)
Up for breakfast at the normal time. French toast and pork bellies.
Plan is to take Andy, Marcus, and Jason to Desolation Camp where they will spike for two nights. This camp known as Desolation is a four hour horse back ride into some really cool country. Country so rugged and rocky that no horse forage exists, so we are going to trail horses back with us after dropping Jason, Andy, and Marcus off. They will bring a spike camp and stay for two nights.
All six of us head out, with one horse loaded with gear for the guys. It takes a long time. We stop and glass on the way, but today is void of any critters.
Once we get there, we unload the horses and gear for the guys. Riley suggests a nap before riding back to camp. Everyone agrees. The country is just too epic for me to sleep, so I just wander around and look at the landscape.
Riley wakes around 3:30 and tells the guys we will be back to get them on Day #6. I will hunt caribou while they try to get Andy a ram. In short order Riley has me following him, with the four other horses between me and Ty.
Given the rock and canyons, I can see why you can't keep horses in here; they'd starve. Not sure what the sheep eat, but I suspect they can make due with a lot less than a horse.
We glass for caribou on our way home. Nothing to be seen. First day of not seeing any game.
It took about four hours of riding to get back to camp, mixed in with the periods of glassing. Only one small horse wreck with the horses walking into a wasp nest. I was on Duke, the biggest and smoothest of the group. He was as calm as can be, while the younger horses were rather wild in their attempts to get away from the bees.
While going through some thick spruce tree Duke decided he wanted to scratch an itch on his neck. He pushed hard against the tree, putting it between his neck and my scabbard as he brushed by. I tried to move my rifle, but it was too little, too late. By the time he pushed past the tree, he had busted the leather on my scabbard, putting my rifle upside down and dropping out of the scabbard. Duke's hind leg kicked my rifle as it was dropping to the ground. As bad as that worried me, we avoided a completely disaster by the rifle not being under his back hoof when we took that step. I doubt the Superlite would have fared well if stepped on by a 2,200# horse carrying a 200# hunter and his gear.
We stopped and inspected the rifle. Other than some mud, it seemed no worse for wear. We agreed we needed to test fire it and check the zero before caribou hunting tomorrow.
We got in around 8:30. Riley texted Jesse with our ETA. When we got to camp, she had dinner of sheep backstraps ready for us. So good. Beyond good. I told the crew I was happy eating my entire sheep as camp meat. By the time we would head back to base camp in a week, that task had been accomplished. Much cheaper to eat sheep meat in camp every night than to ship it back to Montana. No complaints from anyone helping devour it.
To bed by 11pm, without any report from the guys and how their evening of hunting unfolded. I took that as good news and told Riley it meant they were too busy packing sheep off the mountain and didn't have time to let us know the results.
Some photos from Marcus with that date stamp.
Up for breakfast at the normal time. French toast and pork bellies.
Plan is to take Andy, Marcus, and Jason to Desolation Camp where they will spike for two nights. This camp known as Desolation is a four hour horse back ride into some really cool country. Country so rugged and rocky that no horse forage exists, so we are going to trail horses back with us after dropping Jason, Andy, and Marcus off. They will bring a spike camp and stay for two nights.
All six of us head out, with one horse loaded with gear for the guys. It takes a long time. We stop and glass on the way, but today is void of any critters.
Once we get there, we unload the horses and gear for the guys. Riley suggests a nap before riding back to camp. Everyone agrees. The country is just too epic for me to sleep, so I just wander around and look at the landscape.
Riley wakes around 3:30 and tells the guys we will be back to get them on Day #6. I will hunt caribou while they try to get Andy a ram. In short order Riley has me following him, with the four other horses between me and Ty.
Given the rock and canyons, I can see why you can't keep horses in here; they'd starve. Not sure what the sheep eat, but I suspect they can make due with a lot less than a horse.
We glass for caribou on our way home. Nothing to be seen. First day of not seeing any game.
It took about four hours of riding to get back to camp, mixed in with the periods of glassing. Only one small horse wreck with the horses walking into a wasp nest. I was on Duke, the biggest and smoothest of the group. He was as calm as can be, while the younger horses were rather wild in their attempts to get away from the bees.
While going through some thick spruce tree Duke decided he wanted to scratch an itch on his neck. He pushed hard against the tree, putting it between his neck and my scabbard as he brushed by. I tried to move my rifle, but it was too little, too late. By the time he pushed past the tree, he had busted the leather on my scabbard, putting my rifle upside down and dropping out of the scabbard. Duke's hind leg kicked my rifle as it was dropping to the ground. As bad as that worried me, we avoided a completely disaster by the rifle not being under his back hoof when we took that step. I doubt the Superlite would have fared well if stepped on by a 2,200# horse carrying a 200# hunter and his gear.
We stopped and inspected the rifle. Other than some mud, it seemed no worse for wear. We agreed we needed to test fire it and check the zero before caribou hunting tomorrow.
We got in around 8:30. Riley texted Jesse with our ETA. When we got to camp, she had dinner of sheep backstraps ready for us. So good. Beyond good. I told the crew I was happy eating my entire sheep as camp meat. By the time we would head back to base camp in a week, that task had been accomplished. Much cheaper to eat sheep meat in camp every night than to ship it back to Montana. No complaints from anyone helping devour it.
To bed by 11pm, without any report from the guys and how their evening of hunting unfolded. I took that as good news and told Riley it meant they were too busy packing sheep off the mountain and didn't have time to let us know the results.
Some photos from Marcus with that date stamp.
Thanks, Riley. The details you shared with me this month were very helpful in being prepared for how these hunts unfold. I appreciate your help.
That's pretty darn special.
"Keep livin", Randy. Inspiration passed on and you honor him by passing onto us any many beyond! There is much to be thankful for and dreams to chase.
Grats! Look forward to continuing the read (and pics).
August 15 (Hunting Day #5)
Up at 6:30. Breakfast at 7am. Still no word from the guys out in Camp Desolation. Hope they give us a good report today.
I'm excited for a day of caribou hunting. Forecast is for hot weather, which is not good for caribou sporting their thick hide. Riley tells me it drives them very high, to the ridge crests, or deep into the thick spruce for shade.
We are on the trail by 8am. I'm on Zeb, a steady horse who is comfortable to ride, even if he stops to graze on anything even slightly digestible.
We are headed to a ridge we can see in the far distance from camp. We'll go upstream a ways, cross the river at a wider shallow spot, then ride the horses up high to glass what Riley calls "the Timbered Ridge."
After the scabbard was busted yesterday, Ty had it reworked with some leather straps, allowing the rifle to ride even better than it had originally. Riley led us to a small island out on the river, allowing a few trees for tying off the horses while we moved off a couple hundred yards to verify the zero on my rifle.
Riley pointed out a small rock at 108 yards, buried in some dirt. It made it easy to see. I set up the spotter and tripod, used the Ollin to focus on that small rock, then set the phone to slow-mo.
With time to breath and adjust the rest to perfection, the trigger squeeze felt good. We reviewed the video. Dead on. Couldn't put it any better if I walked up and pointed to where I was aiming. Whew, a potential wreck avoided!
Got to the glassing point around 10:30am. Immediately Riley pointed out two cows and a calf running from something. Once we got spotters set up I noticed two bulls about 1,000 yards across from us - one with a very white mane. Riley estimated around 365-370. He says we’re looking for something much larger. I like to hear that.
With the heat, the glassing got slow. Eventually Riley spotted four other bulls far away on the skyline. One is very impressive on top and with great beams. Just average bottoms. Problem being that Riley’s map shows them to be 5.7 miles away. Cross them off the list.
Lots of napping, blueberry picking, and pondering how Andy's sheep search is progressing. I remember eating my PBJ as the last act before I cut out at least two hours in the mid-day sun. Man, that felt good.
Eventually we all got back on our glass and continued searching. Not much to show. Ty walked behind us and spotted a lone ewe in a crevasse that spewed down off the primary ridgeline way above us.
No other critters were spotted. I sure hoped the other guys were seeing more than we were.
We got back to camp at 8:45. More good food from Jessie.
Tomorrow is “bread drop” day, so we all headed out to the gravel bar to clear brush and debris that might have floated in on the last high water event. Riley explains that when Del shows up with bread and other supplies Jesse has requested, the Gana Supercub will carry out my horns and cape back to base camp. The logistics of resupplying the camps on these 10-12 days hunts is made much easier with the two Super Cubs and very experienced pilots.
To bed at 11pm, but not before looking at the peaks still visible in the low evening light. The quiet of this place is hard to explain. No jets, no hum of human disturbance. Just the gurgle of the river, the pop of dried spruce pitch burst in the fire, and the far distant noise of hobbled horses seeking ungrazed grasses. Pretty easy to fall asleep under these skies.
I am not sure all that went on with Andy's hunt that day, but here are some of Marcus' images date stamped August 15th.
From what I gather, it included a lot of hiking.
Some napping.
Some amazing country.
Some cool stuff that gets discovered when you hike around these ridges and rocky water courses.
And the report was they saw this group of younger rams and about 25 ewes and lambs. No big rams to be found.
And plenty of caribou. One of which, not shown here, Riley later examined in video to be pushing 420". Yet, for reasons still unstated, nobody sent an inReach message to let us know that Andy was passing B&C caribou until he got a ram. With my caribou tag unpunched and my intense interest in hunting this largest of the caribou subspecies, I'm still wondering what I did to not get the courtesy of an inReach message. A four-hour horse ride and a two hour hike would have seemed like a small investment for a caribou like the one Marcus filmed; displaying large double shovels, long beams, huge tops, and velvet still fully intact. Oh well, life is full of unsolved mysteries.
Up at 6:30. Breakfast at 7am. Still no word from the guys out in Camp Desolation. Hope they give us a good report today.
I'm excited for a day of caribou hunting. Forecast is for hot weather, which is not good for caribou sporting their thick hide. Riley tells me it drives them very high, to the ridge crests, or deep into the thick spruce for shade.
We are on the trail by 8am. I'm on Zeb, a steady horse who is comfortable to ride, even if he stops to graze on anything even slightly digestible.
We are headed to a ridge we can see in the far distance from camp. We'll go upstream a ways, cross the river at a wider shallow spot, then ride the horses up high to glass what Riley calls "the Timbered Ridge."
After the scabbard was busted yesterday, Ty had it reworked with some leather straps, allowing the rifle to ride even better than it had originally. Riley led us to a small island out on the river, allowing a few trees for tying off the horses while we moved off a couple hundred yards to verify the zero on my rifle.
Riley pointed out a small rock at 108 yards, buried in some dirt. It made it easy to see. I set up the spotter and tripod, used the Ollin to focus on that small rock, then set the phone to slow-mo.
With time to breath and adjust the rest to perfection, the trigger squeeze felt good. We reviewed the video. Dead on. Couldn't put it any better if I walked up and pointed to where I was aiming. Whew, a potential wreck avoided!
Got to the glassing point around 10:30am. Immediately Riley pointed out two cows and a calf running from something. Once we got spotters set up I noticed two bulls about 1,000 yards across from us - one with a very white mane. Riley estimated around 365-370. He says we’re looking for something much larger. I like to hear that.
With the heat, the glassing got slow. Eventually Riley spotted four other bulls far away on the skyline. One is very impressive on top and with great beams. Just average bottoms. Problem being that Riley’s map shows them to be 5.7 miles away. Cross them off the list.
Lots of napping, blueberry picking, and pondering how Andy's sheep search is progressing. I remember eating my PBJ as the last act before I cut out at least two hours in the mid-day sun. Man, that felt good.
Eventually we all got back on our glass and continued searching. Not much to show. Ty walked behind us and spotted a lone ewe in a crevasse that spewed down off the primary ridgeline way above us.
No other critters were spotted. I sure hoped the other guys were seeing more than we were.
We got back to camp at 8:45. More good food from Jessie.
Tomorrow is “bread drop” day, so we all headed out to the gravel bar to clear brush and debris that might have floated in on the last high water event. Riley explains that when Del shows up with bread and other supplies Jesse has requested, the Gana Supercub will carry out my horns and cape back to base camp. The logistics of resupplying the camps on these 10-12 days hunts is made much easier with the two Super Cubs and very experienced pilots.
To bed at 11pm, but not before looking at the peaks still visible in the low evening light. The quiet of this place is hard to explain. No jets, no hum of human disturbance. Just the gurgle of the river, the pop of dried spruce pitch burst in the fire, and the far distant noise of hobbled horses seeking ungrazed grasses. Pretty easy to fall asleep under these skies.
I am not sure all that went on with Andy's hunt that day, but here are some of Marcus' images date stamped August 15th.
From what I gather, it included a lot of hiking.
Some napping.
Some amazing country.
Some cool stuff that gets discovered when you hike around these ridges and rocky water courses.
And the report was they saw this group of younger rams and about 25 ewes and lambs. No big rams to be found.
And plenty of caribou. One of which, not shown here, Riley later examined in video to be pushing 420". Yet, for reasons still unstated, nobody sent an inReach message to let us know that Andy was passing B&C caribou until he got a ram. With my caribou tag unpunched and my intense interest in hunting this largest of the caribou subspecies, I'm still wondering what I did to not get the courtesy of an inReach message. A four-hour horse ride and a two hour hike would have seemed like a small investment for a caribou like the one Marcus filmed; displaying large double shovels, long beams, huge tops, and velvet still fully intact. Oh well, life is full of unsolved mysteries.
August 16 (Hunting Day #6)
Up around 6:30. The horses were giving Ty a hard go of it as he tried to wrangle them this morning. Laying in the tent it sounded like a horse race going on. Eventually he got them, but when I rolled out for breakfast, it looked like Ty had run a marathon.
Riley got a message from Jason during the night. Amongst all of the ewes and lambs, they only saw five young rams in their time hunting out of Camp Desolation, so time to move.
Riley had received a message from Scott, one of the guides, that while being flown back to base camp the prior day, Scott had seen a couple more rams in the area we had seen the lone six year-old ram on Day One. Scott said it was hard to tell, but one of them seemed pretty good. If they were still there, it would be worthwhile for the guys to check it out on their way back to our camp. It was only an hour of horse riding out of their way.
Riley asked if I was interested in 8+ hours of horse riding to go retrieve the guys at Camp Desolation. Given how much my poor riding skills slowed down Riley and Ty, along with Jesse needing help with retrieving the supplies dropped a half mile away on the airstrip, I told I'd hang at camp.
He agreed. In short order Riley and Ty loaded four other horses; one for each Jason, Andy and Marcus, and one to pack all of their gear. He hoped the round trip would have them back around 6pm.
No hunting for me today. That’s fine. I want to do all I can to make sure Andy gets a ram. I don’t “need” another caribou. Another Mountain Caribou would be great, but a ram for Andy is way more important. That requires Riley taking a full day of hunting to make this round trip. No biggie. Plenty to do around camp.
Jessie trimmed up a bunch of sheep for a roast; an entire hind quarter. While she got them wrapped in double layers of foil, she had me build a big fire in a pit I had dug on the steep river bank adjacent to camp. The idea was that we would bury it in hopes this fire pit would make the equivalent of a Dutch oven cooking method.
This also gave me time to catch up on camp-specific b-roll Marcus wanted and other items for the story line. It provided time to add to my pile of journal notes from the past week.
Bread drop was scheduled for 11:30am, plus or minus an hour. I emptied my pack in anticipation of a heavy load needing to be hauled back to camp. By noon, Del was buzzing overhead in the Super Cub. Jessie and I hiked the half mile to the sandbar (rock and gravel) and were waiting for him.
They call this a "bread drop," but it includes a lot more than bread. This drop included a 40# sack of horse grain, spare chainsaw parts, some eggs, a homemade raspberry cake, and assorted other items the crew had requested.
Two packs loaded heavy, plus what we could carry in our one free hand fit it all. I say one free hand, as nobody leaves camp without a rifle in hand. Just too many grizzlies roaming about. I had my 7mm-08 and Jesse carried her Marlin 336 lever action in a .30-30.
I gave Del my horns and cape to take back to base camp where Harold and crew will finish up the final few tasks to get the cape ready to take home in five days. He visited with us a while and commented that the few other hunters spread out elsewhere had taken some very nice sheep and some good caribou. With hunters to pickup from a backpack camp, he was on his way in short order.
Jesse and I stayed busy with camp chores. The sun came out allowing me to do some laundry that could dry in the clear day and good breeze. I warmed some water and washed my hair. That was enough for me to nap while the sheep roast cooked under a foot of rock and dirt.
Riley and Ty got back around the scheduled time. Jason decided the hunting crew would split off and ride the extra hour to investigate the area we hunted the first day, which happened to be the area Scott had seen additional rams a couple days prior.
Riley and Ty looked stiff and sore. That was a lot of riding, through rocks and boulders. Riley offered an evening caribou hunt following dinner. Seeing how slow he and Ty were walking, I suggested that we just rest this evening and make tomorrow a hard day of hunting. He smiled, asked, "Do I look that bad?" and thanked me for the consideration of his knees.
We were to bed at 10pm, having heard nothing from the guys. With them still not back, when it was expected to be a short detour, I took that as a good sign.
When I heard Marcus ease into our tent a bit past midnight, I woke and asked how thing went. What he told me requires that I split this up into another post with more pictures.
But until then, a few pics of what they saw during their morning hunt prior to Riley and Ty arriving with horses to extract them.
A little foreshadow always makes for a good story.
We tried a lot of new gear on this trip. This new tarp by PEAX was Marcus's shelter for two nights. He was very impressed.
Up around 6:30. The horses were giving Ty a hard go of it as he tried to wrangle them this morning. Laying in the tent it sounded like a horse race going on. Eventually he got them, but when I rolled out for breakfast, it looked like Ty had run a marathon.
Riley got a message from Jason during the night. Amongst all of the ewes and lambs, they only saw five young rams in their time hunting out of Camp Desolation, so time to move.
Riley had received a message from Scott, one of the guides, that while being flown back to base camp the prior day, Scott had seen a couple more rams in the area we had seen the lone six year-old ram on Day One. Scott said it was hard to tell, but one of them seemed pretty good. If they were still there, it would be worthwhile for the guys to check it out on their way back to our camp. It was only an hour of horse riding out of their way.
Riley asked if I was interested in 8+ hours of horse riding to go retrieve the guys at Camp Desolation. Given how much my poor riding skills slowed down Riley and Ty, along with Jesse needing help with retrieving the supplies dropped a half mile away on the airstrip, I told I'd hang at camp.
He agreed. In short order Riley and Ty loaded four other horses; one for each Jason, Andy and Marcus, and one to pack all of their gear. He hoped the round trip would have them back around 6pm.
No hunting for me today. That’s fine. I want to do all I can to make sure Andy gets a ram. I don’t “need” another caribou. Another Mountain Caribou would be great, but a ram for Andy is way more important. That requires Riley taking a full day of hunting to make this round trip. No biggie. Plenty to do around camp.
Jessie trimmed up a bunch of sheep for a roast; an entire hind quarter. While she got them wrapped in double layers of foil, she had me build a big fire in a pit I had dug on the steep river bank adjacent to camp. The idea was that we would bury it in hopes this fire pit would make the equivalent of a Dutch oven cooking method.
This also gave me time to catch up on camp-specific b-roll Marcus wanted and other items for the story line. It provided time to add to my pile of journal notes from the past week.
Bread drop was scheduled for 11:30am, plus or minus an hour. I emptied my pack in anticipation of a heavy load needing to be hauled back to camp. By noon, Del was buzzing overhead in the Super Cub. Jessie and I hiked the half mile to the sandbar (rock and gravel) and were waiting for him.
They call this a "bread drop," but it includes a lot more than bread. This drop included a 40# sack of horse grain, spare chainsaw parts, some eggs, a homemade raspberry cake, and assorted other items the crew had requested.
Two packs loaded heavy, plus what we could carry in our one free hand fit it all. I say one free hand, as nobody leaves camp without a rifle in hand. Just too many grizzlies roaming about. I had my 7mm-08 and Jesse carried her Marlin 336 lever action in a .30-30.
I gave Del my horns and cape to take back to base camp where Harold and crew will finish up the final few tasks to get the cape ready to take home in five days. He visited with us a while and commented that the few other hunters spread out elsewhere had taken some very nice sheep and some good caribou. With hunters to pickup from a backpack camp, he was on his way in short order.
Jesse and I stayed busy with camp chores. The sun came out allowing me to do some laundry that could dry in the clear day and good breeze. I warmed some water and washed my hair. That was enough for me to nap while the sheep roast cooked under a foot of rock and dirt.
Riley and Ty got back around the scheduled time. Jason decided the hunting crew would split off and ride the extra hour to investigate the area we hunted the first day, which happened to be the area Scott had seen additional rams a couple days prior.
Riley and Ty looked stiff and sore. That was a lot of riding, through rocks and boulders. Riley offered an evening caribou hunt following dinner. Seeing how slow he and Ty were walking, I suggested that we just rest this evening and make tomorrow a hard day of hunting. He smiled, asked, "Do I look that bad?" and thanked me for the consideration of his knees.
We were to bed at 10pm, having heard nothing from the guys. With them still not back, when it was expected to be a short detour, I took that as a good sign.
When I heard Marcus ease into our tent a bit past midnight, I woke and asked how thing went. What he told me requires that I split this up into another post with more pictures.
But until then, a few pics of what they saw during their morning hunt prior to Riley and Ty arriving with horses to extract them.
A little foreshadow always makes for a good story.
We tried a lot of new gear on this trip. This new tarp by PEAX was Marcus's shelter for two nights. He was very impressed.
Bambistew
Well-known member
Great read. I can't believe Andy passed on that ram.
This is really something special. I like to read about these hunts and see the pictures taken while it was happening. So much more personal info and small things that went on that get missed in video. Thanks Randy, but I wish you would post more often. I am splitting firewood and need longer breaks. Awesome so far. mtmuley
Nick87
Well-known member
I second all of this. Except the firewood. It's 90 degrees here today.
August 16 (Hunting Day #6, post-script)
Before going to bed we all agreed that with the long delay in the guys returning big things must have happened. And we were right. Just a bit different than I ever expected.
Andy, Marcus, and Jason got back after midnight. When Marcus entered the tent, I woke and he told me what had happened. It seemed like I was having a bad dream. Too bad it as reality.
Remember back on Day #3 when I talked about Flash rolling around with Andy's rifle in the scabbard? Well, it took three days for that event to present itself, but it surely did, in spades.
Reposting that photo here. We're lucky that someone took this photo immediately after Andy grabbed his rifle and inspected the outside for any damage, finding none. Note where the scabbard is in relation to the horse.
Here's what I gathered in my notes from watching the videos Marcus captured of this unfortunate sequence.
The guys had climbed up the first bench to where we saw the young ram on Day 1. When they got there, they say two more rams and one of them was a good one. Andy wanted to shoot it. After all, it was Day 6 and who knows how many days might be lost due to low cloud cover.
Since this happened rather fast, it's all on video, without much for pictures. Apologize I don't have a lot for images to support the story.
The rams were up higher and to the west, requiring about an hour long hike to a place above them with better shot angles and good wind. They got there and waited for the rams to feed into the shooting lanes.
Andy had the forend of his rifle locked into the tripod clamp with the butt braced with his pack. He was ranging the possible shot distances. He was practicing his breathing and hold. Andy said it felt like the perfect setup. And it was, until he squeezed the trigger.
The largest ram fed into the shooting lane at 280 yards. Andy held according to his charts and squeezed the shot. The rams didn't even look up. He quickly loaded another round. Hold, breathe, squeeze, same result.
The impact is not even nearby enough to scare the rams. Thinking the shot was the clash of horns, the two biggest rams square off and start butting heads. Andy is in disbelief, as are Marcus and Jason. We'd all shot at their range upon arrival at base camp and from those results, the sheep seemed in grave danger if shot were fired.
The rams now graze up the slope, with the biggest ram continuing in the lead and the two subordinate rams below him. He stops again at just under 300 yards. Andy holds and fires. None of the rams even react.
Something is wrong. This is the same rifle I used to shoot my ram at 298 yards. The point of impact has changed dramatically.
Andy looks at his scope. It's all tight and reticle seems good. He inspects the rest of the rifle. Nothing noticeable. He hands it to Marcus.
Marcus thinks about the event with Flash rolling on Andy's rifle and removes the bolt to inspect the bore. Rather than a perfect circle, the light coming down the bore has a football shape as the barrel curves up and left to some degree. This isn't going to work. A bent barrel isn't just inaccurate, but can produce high pressures that could cause a serious barrel failure.
Marcus tries to reach me with his Zoleo to ride the hour from camp and hike up there with my rifle. He forgets that Zoleo can only message an inReach if the inReach instigates the conversation.
Eventually the guys watch the rams move off. They mark where the rams are headed and hope they can find them with Andy using my rifle tomorrow.
Jesse get up and warms up a post-midnight dinner for these exhausted guys. I climb out to ask questions as they eat. I can't believe this. On Day One Marcus and I told the story of the Cassiars hunt when the other hunter in camp had his barrel bent by a horse. What are the odds that it would happen again? Evidently pretty good.
Tomorrow, Andy will take my rifle. I had just checked the zero the day before and it was perfect. God, I hope his luck improves.
Before going to bed we all agreed that with the long delay in the guys returning big things must have happened. And we were right. Just a bit different than I ever expected.
Andy, Marcus, and Jason got back after midnight. When Marcus entered the tent, I woke and he told me what had happened. It seemed like I was having a bad dream. Too bad it as reality.
Remember back on Day #3 when I talked about Flash rolling around with Andy's rifle in the scabbard? Well, it took three days for that event to present itself, but it surely did, in spades.
Reposting that photo here. We're lucky that someone took this photo immediately after Andy grabbed his rifle and inspected the outside for any damage, finding none. Note where the scabbard is in relation to the horse.
Here's what I gathered in my notes from watching the videos Marcus captured of this unfortunate sequence.
The guys had climbed up the first bench to where we saw the young ram on Day 1. When they got there, they say two more rams and one of them was a good one. Andy wanted to shoot it. After all, it was Day 6 and who knows how many days might be lost due to low cloud cover.
Since this happened rather fast, it's all on video, without much for pictures. Apologize I don't have a lot for images to support the story.
The rams were up higher and to the west, requiring about an hour long hike to a place above them with better shot angles and good wind. They got there and waited for the rams to feed into the shooting lanes.
Andy had the forend of his rifle locked into the tripod clamp with the butt braced with his pack. He was ranging the possible shot distances. He was practicing his breathing and hold. Andy said it felt like the perfect setup. And it was, until he squeezed the trigger.
The largest ram fed into the shooting lane at 280 yards. Andy held according to his charts and squeezed the shot. The rams didn't even look up. He quickly loaded another round. Hold, breathe, squeeze, same result.
The impact is not even nearby enough to scare the rams. Thinking the shot was the clash of horns, the two biggest rams square off and start butting heads. Andy is in disbelief, as are Marcus and Jason. We'd all shot at their range upon arrival at base camp and from those results, the sheep seemed in grave danger if shot were fired.
The rams now graze up the slope, with the biggest ram continuing in the lead and the two subordinate rams below him. He stops again at just under 300 yards. Andy holds and fires. None of the rams even react.
Something is wrong. This is the same rifle I used to shoot my ram at 298 yards. The point of impact has changed dramatically.
Andy looks at his scope. It's all tight and reticle seems good. He inspects the rest of the rifle. Nothing noticeable. He hands it to Marcus.
Marcus thinks about the event with Flash rolling on Andy's rifle and removes the bolt to inspect the bore. Rather than a perfect circle, the light coming down the bore has a football shape as the barrel curves up and left to some degree. This isn't going to work. A bent barrel isn't just inaccurate, but can produce high pressures that could cause a serious barrel failure.
Marcus tries to reach me with his Zoleo to ride the hour from camp and hike up there with my rifle. He forgets that Zoleo can only message an inReach if the inReach instigates the conversation.
Eventually the guys watch the rams move off. They mark where the rams are headed and hope they can find them with Andy using my rifle tomorrow.
Jesse get up and warms up a post-midnight dinner for these exhausted guys. I climb out to ask questions as they eat. I can't believe this. On Day One Marcus and I told the story of the Cassiars hunt when the other hunter in camp had his barrel bent by a horse. What are the odds that it would happen again? Evidently pretty good.
Tomorrow, Andy will take my rifle. I had just checked the zero the day before and it was perfect. God, I hope his luck improves.
August 17 (Hunting Day #7, Part 1)
With the fiasco of the day prior, everyone was a bit struck as to what kind of luck we'd encounter today. Breakfast and coffee was ready by 6:30. Given how late they got in, those guys had to be exhausted, though you wouldn't know it by their enthusiasm for a rematch.
I offered Andy my rifle, handing him two loaded clips and the remainder of a full box. He took it over and dry fired, nodding confidence that today would be a different story. I sure hoped so.
Andy handed me his rifle. I removed the bolt and looked down the barrel. Yup, a slight bend to the 11pm position. Surely enough to move a shot.
Inspecting video when the hunt was over, his last shot barely showed up on the screen, being about 15' high and 20' left. Good thing the other rams were below the targeted ram and not above him. Andy chuckled, "What would guys have thought if I had hit one of the other rams? You'd have thought I was the worst shooter to ever shoulder a rifle."
Thankfully that didn't happen. And thankfully the rifle withstood those pressures created by a bent barrel.
Given the horses were now traveling farther for food each night, it was agreed that me, Riley, Ty, and Jesse would pull this camp and move a couple hours upstream to the Fritz Cabin camp. We had passed that on our way down to this lower camp.
Andy, Marcus, and Jason would go to look for the sheep from the day before. They would ride the two extra hours this evening, but hopefully we would have camp pitched and ready when they got there. They were on the trail shortly after 8am.
We got busy taking down camp and packing the pannier boxes. We had camp packed and loaded on the horses by 11:30. Got to cabins just before 2pm. We saw three caribou on the way there, though the commotion of the horse string had the caribou moving off quickly.
Once we had camp set, wall tent stood up, and everyone's gear organized, Riley suggested that he and I go up to The Fingers for an afternoon caribou hunt.
I looked toward the mountains and a serious storm was rolling in. If my estimation of where Andy and the crew headed to relocate that ram, they were getting drenched about how. I suggested to Riley that we wait it out and leave once the worst of it passed. He smiled in full agreement. Seeing him scan the horizon, I think he had that idea before I did, but figured I might feel he was bailing on me, so he didn't suggest it.
Waiting out the storm was a good decision. The ride up to the fingers took a bit over an hour, but the torrent had washed the smokey haze from the skies. It painted the mountains so clear it seemed to be fake.
This place they call The Fingers is an amazing place. We saw six caribou bulls in our short session, but none worth chasing across these chasm riddled foothills. We also found five rams feeding at the edge of the time, close enough that even with binos you could tell the biggest one was a shooter. He had a black tail, something Riley said he's never seen before. We agreed that if Andy could not relocate the ram from yesterday, this would be a great backup ram for him.
A couple screen grabs from video taken through an Ollin spotter adapter.
With the rain rinsing the sky the colors and clarity were beyond description. A vivid double rainbow seemed to be shooting from the mountain just a few hundred yards away. Stunning.
While Riley inspected the rams, I couldn't stop staring at the landscape, now so vibrant with the coolness from an afternoon storm. The pictures and videos don't come close to what it looked like with my own eyes.
It seems as if the sun had grown tired of beating on the landscape and offered a rest, its lower position allowing the land to demonstrate a beauty that words cannot describe, a depth or color and striking topography so impressive that my mind has not the perspective or experience to have imagined it. It was as if every direction I looked I was in a dream world.
If the creator was here among us, I suspect he’d proclaim the Mackenzies, dressed as they were at this moment, to be his finest work. One could find no better example of nature's beauty than what was holding my focus.
If there is a landscape more appealing to a hunter’s eye, I’ve yet to see it and I doubt I will ever find one to rival this place. I had come for something special and this evening, sheep or not, the greatest natural views of my life rolled across these mountains for more than two hours.
As society pays for its standard of living with our wild places and wild things, I applaud Canada and the First Nations of the Mackenzies for not yet have liquidated this place for the fleeting promise of fortunes. If there was gold in every stream and diamonds in every mountain, this place, in its current wild state, would still be the “highest and best use,” as measured by any standard.
This is the story from where Riley and I stood in awe. Even as someone who has spent many years here, Riley commented that had never seen the Mackenzie dressed so fine as they were on this evening. To be witness to that splendor is a blessing that will stay in my memory forever.
Riley suggested we move back toward camp. Maybe we'd intercept a caribou in the river bottom. It mattered not. And, since I would be using his rifle, not mine, I was in no huge hurry with three days left.
Before jumping in the saddles, Riley messaged Jason. Jason replied that Andy got a ram. Great news. They'd could be expected back in camp after midnight, which turned out to be 1am.
I'll start a new post with my notes from Andy, Marcus, and Jason about Andy's ram and how that unfolded. It will be mostly pictures.
With the fiasco of the day prior, everyone was a bit struck as to what kind of luck we'd encounter today. Breakfast and coffee was ready by 6:30. Given how late they got in, those guys had to be exhausted, though you wouldn't know it by their enthusiasm for a rematch.
I offered Andy my rifle, handing him two loaded clips and the remainder of a full box. He took it over and dry fired, nodding confidence that today would be a different story. I sure hoped so.
Andy handed me his rifle. I removed the bolt and looked down the barrel. Yup, a slight bend to the 11pm position. Surely enough to move a shot.
Inspecting video when the hunt was over, his last shot barely showed up on the screen, being about 15' high and 20' left. Good thing the other rams were below the targeted ram and not above him. Andy chuckled, "What would guys have thought if I had hit one of the other rams? You'd have thought I was the worst shooter to ever shoulder a rifle."
Thankfully that didn't happen. And thankfully the rifle withstood those pressures created by a bent barrel.
Given the horses were now traveling farther for food each night, it was agreed that me, Riley, Ty, and Jesse would pull this camp and move a couple hours upstream to the Fritz Cabin camp. We had passed that on our way down to this lower camp.
Andy, Marcus, and Jason would go to look for the sheep from the day before. They would ride the two extra hours this evening, but hopefully we would have camp pitched and ready when they got there. They were on the trail shortly after 8am.
We got busy taking down camp and packing the pannier boxes. We had camp packed and loaded on the horses by 11:30. Got to cabins just before 2pm. We saw three caribou on the way there, though the commotion of the horse string had the caribou moving off quickly.
Once we had camp set, wall tent stood up, and everyone's gear organized, Riley suggested that he and I go up to The Fingers for an afternoon caribou hunt.
I looked toward the mountains and a serious storm was rolling in. If my estimation of where Andy and the crew headed to relocate that ram, they were getting drenched about how. I suggested to Riley that we wait it out and leave once the worst of it passed. He smiled in full agreement. Seeing him scan the horizon, I think he had that idea before I did, but figured I might feel he was bailing on me, so he didn't suggest it.
Waiting out the storm was a good decision. The ride up to the fingers took a bit over an hour, but the torrent had washed the smokey haze from the skies. It painted the mountains so clear it seemed to be fake.
This place they call The Fingers is an amazing place. We saw six caribou bulls in our short session, but none worth chasing across these chasm riddled foothills. We also found five rams feeding at the edge of the time, close enough that even with binos you could tell the biggest one was a shooter. He had a black tail, something Riley said he's never seen before. We agreed that if Andy could not relocate the ram from yesterday, this would be a great backup ram for him.
A couple screen grabs from video taken through an Ollin spotter adapter.
With the rain rinsing the sky the colors and clarity were beyond description. A vivid double rainbow seemed to be shooting from the mountain just a few hundred yards away. Stunning.
While Riley inspected the rams, I couldn't stop staring at the landscape, now so vibrant with the coolness from an afternoon storm. The pictures and videos don't come close to what it looked like with my own eyes.
It seems as if the sun had grown tired of beating on the landscape and offered a rest, its lower position allowing the land to demonstrate a beauty that words cannot describe, a depth or color and striking topography so impressive that my mind has not the perspective or experience to have imagined it. It was as if every direction I looked I was in a dream world.
If the creator was here among us, I suspect he’d proclaim the Mackenzies, dressed as they were at this moment, to be his finest work. One could find no better example of nature's beauty than what was holding my focus.
If there is a landscape more appealing to a hunter’s eye, I’ve yet to see it and I doubt I will ever find one to rival this place. I had come for something special and this evening, sheep or not, the greatest natural views of my life rolled across these mountains for more than two hours.
As society pays for its standard of living with our wild places and wild things, I applaud Canada and the First Nations of the Mackenzies for not yet have liquidated this place for the fleeting promise of fortunes. If there was gold in every stream and diamonds in every mountain, this place, in its current wild state, would still be the “highest and best use,” as measured by any standard.
This is the story from where Riley and I stood in awe. Even as someone who has spent many years here, Riley commented that had never seen the Mackenzie dressed so fine as they were on this evening. To be witness to that splendor is a blessing that will stay in my memory forever.
Riley suggested we move back toward camp. Maybe we'd intercept a caribou in the river bottom. It mattered not. And, since I would be using his rifle, not mine, I was in no huge hurry with three days left.
Before jumping in the saddles, Riley messaged Jason. Jason replied that Andy got a ram. Great news. They'd could be expected back in camp after midnight, which turned out to be 1am.
I'll start a new post with my notes from Andy, Marcus, and Jason about Andy's ram and how that unfolded. It will be mostly pictures.
406dn
Well-known member
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2019
- Messages
- 2,266
Every horse has a quirk unique to them. If you know the quirk, it is not too difficult to work around it. The biggest and by far the most important thing a horse has to have, is an ability to remain calm, when things are a bit sideways. That is followed by being surefooted, as the terrain is much different than where horses evolved. If you can check those two boxes, the rest can be managed.
This episode isn't the first or last time a horse buggered a rifle. Years ago, a friend of mine was on one of my horses, elk hunting. We were coming down a north facing slope, with frost covering the ground. I told my friend that we had to ride down the fall line, where there was no trail. It was not that steep, and horses are adept at sliding down inclines. What will cause them to fall is sidehilling, without a trail, on frosty ground. We had made it down most of it, when he decided to sidehill with the horse. I heard a loud thump behind me. Smokey had his feet slip out from under him and landed on the rifle. Thankfully, my friend got clear of the horse, as that is a good way to break your leg.
A good horse is a wonderful hunting partner. They will extend the area you can hunt, and preserve your stamina. More than once they have alerted me to game. They will pack the meat off the mountain, all you have to do is lead them back to camp. They certainly have extended my big game hunting, by quite a few years.
The black horse with the white blaze on his face that Randy rides on this hunt, reminds me of one of my horses. Buster has taken me many miles in the back country. He keeps his cool and will do anything I ask of him. He also doesn't roll with his saddle, at least not yet.
He was my niece's mount when I took her trail riding in YNP to celebrate her graduation from college.
August 17th (Hunting Day #7, Part 2)
As I said, this will be mostly pictures. Marcus' excellent work shouldn't be spoiled with my rambling.
Summary is this. They climbed up to the spot where yesterday's encounter happened. It was a steep grade, but Andy seemed even more determined with only four days left.
When they got there the rams were gone. Likely continuing the direction they were feeding. Hopefully that put them up and over a steep knife edge and down in the next basin.
When they got to the crest they saw two rams, but not the biggest one from last night. They snuck down to a closer position. Eventually they found the big guy, but a bad wind and open terrain forced them stay locked down all day, including sitting out that huge rainstorm that Riley and I waited to pass while under the dry roof of a cabin. No such good cover for these guys.
Finally, the wind changed. They moved into position. Andy was again set up with the forend in his tripod and the butt on his pack. The shot was 190 yards. A 140 grain AccuBond from a 7mm-08 Howa Superlite, ended the suspense with one shot.
The pics tell the rest of the story.
As I said, this will be mostly pictures. Marcus' excellent work shouldn't be spoiled with my rambling.
Summary is this. They climbed up to the spot where yesterday's encounter happened. It was a steep grade, but Andy seemed even more determined with only four days left.
When they got there the rams were gone. Likely continuing the direction they were feeding. Hopefully that put them up and over a steep knife edge and down in the next basin.
When they got to the crest they saw two rams, but not the biggest one from last night. They snuck down to a closer position. Eventually they found the big guy, but a bad wind and open terrain forced them stay locked down all day, including sitting out that huge rainstorm that Riley and I waited to pass while under the dry roof of a cabin. No such good cover for these guys.
Finally, the wind changed. They moved into position. Andy was again set up with the forend in his tripod and the butt on his pack. The shot was 190 yards. A 140 grain AccuBond from a 7mm-08 Howa Superlite, ended the suspense with one shot.
The pics tell the rest of the story.
Bryerific
Well-known member
Wonderful story and adventure! I find it particularly amusing that you both had to use the other’s rifle.
Bambistew
Well-known member
Flash is definitely my spirit animal. He an I seem to nap a similar amount on sheep hunts.
