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Colorado Ram 2021

Now… if you’re hunting the Missouri Breaks, he’s not gonna be the ram of your dreams, but in this area, where some of these rams winter at 10,000 feet, I think he’s a very nice ram. A good ram in this unit is 160”. I think this guy will go better than that. And this ram became the object of my attention for the remainder of our scouting trip. At one point, my buddy started calling him “Crush Nasty” just to annoy me. So… HuntTalkers… wish me luck. I’m going after Crush Nasty. Whether he’s still there or still alive, I don’t know, but either way… I’m going sheep hunting. Can’t believe it.
Crush Nasty! Go get him. Good luck keep the updates coming
 
Just have the time of your life and remember to enjoy it. It's the journey to the trigger that makes the memories not the pull. Great pics and best of luck.
 
So I met up with Dad on Friday, Sep 3 in Aspen. And we gathered at the horse packers’ barn in Meredith on Saturday, Sep 4. My family used to own horses and a single mule that we packed. We were never very good at it, but we managed. It’s nice watching someone who really knows how to pack a string do their thing. And soon we were in the mountains setting up sheep camp.
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Dad rode in with the horse guys, while I walked up the trail with my rifle and my rented Swaro spotter and tripod. Here's Dad glassing for sheep in quality (shorts-over-sweats) camp attire...
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If you've been in Colorado for the past two weeks, you know that a major high-pressure system took up residence and delivered the most amazing summer camping weather. For days we never saw a cloud. The problem, of course, is that Coloradoans love their outdoors. Throw in bluebird 75-degree days and a holiday weekend and you have the perfect recipe for plenty of backcountry company. The drainage was an absolute zoo. In addition to another sheep hunter and his brother, we had a cool Wyoming goat hunter and his two buddies camped at our chosen lake. And then we had half of western Colorado join us. Horse riders getting bucked off. High school outdoor leadership groups. Day hikers with barking dogs. Even a med-evac helicopter arrived to haul off a lady stricken with some sort of nervous breakdown or something. I'm guessing that was expensive. I know it was annoying. Through it all, I did manage to locate a few rams during the 3 days I had to poke around before the opener. I couldn't find Crush Nasty, and I wasn't seeing as many sheep as I found in July, but it was hard to complain. Beautiful country awaited, and I had a ram tag in my pocket.
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At one point, I commented how I think it’s totally weird on those whitetail TV shows when the hosts name all the bucks. “Mr. Freak Daddy” or “Four-Legged Hercules” or whatever. The names are crazy.
I used to think I'd never name a target animal... then I started chasing Mulies above tree line in CO. It was embarrassing to find out my subconscious mind had decided one big buck would be B.A.E. Things escalated when I camped next to a shepherd who only spoke spanish. Suddenly my bucks were gaining spanish names for themselves like El Oso Blanco, and Muchacho Grande... SMH. Confession time over now, that's one heck of a ram!
 
The eve of the opener arrived, and the other sheep tagholder and I kept bumping into each other. He was as skeptical of me as I was of him. We had both committed ourselves to this specific drainage, and it was a little awkward camping in such close proximity. The other hunter and his brother are 10+ years older than I am, and I think they were counting on their experience to out-fox me. Conversations like this ensued:
Them: What kind of spotting scope are you carrying?
Me: Oh, I rented a Swarovski 25x-60x.
Them: Why did you rent? Don't you hunt much?

Them: How many animals have you taken in your life?
Me: Gee... I dunno. Let's see... Nine elk, a half-dozen antelope, two bears, a caribou, a mountain goat, probably 20-some deer....
Them: We've taken close to 200 combined.

So... It was a bit adversarial and strange. But I had to give them credit for effort. Those two dudes shuttled loads from the trailhead up to our lake all Labor Day Weekend long. And when they weren't running up and down the trail, they hiked up to the upper reaches of the drainage to glass for rams in a high basin. And then when I'd pass them on the trail or at the lake, they'd needle me for doing it the easy way by hiring a horse-packer. I'm the egotistical sort and assumed they were just jealous. :)

I, too, found that high basin to be a place for rams, however. So the night before opening morning, I spiked out close to the basin under a tarp so that I could be sitting in my chosen spot opening morning without fear of following the brothers up the trail. It worked. At first light, I was right where I wanted to glass when the sun came up and no one else in sight. The problem, however, was that I didn't find a ram either. And an hour after sunup here come the brothers. We exchanged greetings, and I complimented them on their work ethic and wished them well. The tagholder assured me that he "didn't need a full curl ram." I hoped that he used that term the exact way I do when I hunt elk. When I say "I don't need a six-point," what I mean is that a spike is in big trouble if I find one.

I hoped that he would keep walking and shoot the first small ram he could find.
 
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I sat on my glassing rock for most of the morning. Dad planned to join me at the basin’s edge near lunchtime. Around 11 o’clock I left my perch and started heading Dad’s way. Some shots rang out higher up as the day wore on. I found out later that the cool, tough Wyoming goat crew tagged a 9” billy. And… the sheep brothers downed a 3/4 curl ram. So the sun set on opening day without me needing my rifle, but it felt productive. The other hunters soon followed the weekend recreators out of the drainage. And Dad and I were left alone at the lake.

The next morning Dad and I were back at the basin at first light. The altitude and climbs weren’t easy on my father, but it was cool having him along.

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