Colorado Ram 2021

Unfortunately, the morning of Day 2 was as slow as opening morning for me, so we moved back down to the lake and the comforts of my tipi. I spent some time glassing up above camp from the spot I used in July and found 4 young rams. Not much to show for two days, but my hunting buddy was set to arrive the following afternoon, so I wasn’t yet feeling rushed.

The morning of Day 3 delivered beautiful weather again and another sighting of the four small rams. Dad and I continued glassing and eventually turned up a band of six rams further down the drainage up high along the timberline. One ram looked really good, so I left Dad at our glassing rock and begin an uphill assault on the big ram. The climb was sketchy, at best, in certain spots, but I made it to a high bench after an intense hour of lactic acidosis and white knuckles. I found the four small rams inside 180 yards and let them walk before moving on toward the bigger ram’s last known position. But… I just couldn’t make it over to him. I got sorta cliffed out in short order and made the decision to descend before I fell to my death. About the time I arrived back at my camp at the lake, my buddy, Doug, arrived.
 
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Doug and I spent the next two days trying to find the big ram (or any ram) again. It was tough. For two long days Doug and I pounded our legs up and down that drainage looking for any sign of rams with no luck. We crossed the pass at the very head of the drainage and glassed the back side and bushwhacked through the intermittent timber along the basin walls. It wasn’t easy walking but the views were nice. No rams, however. And this is a little weird to admit, but the tag began to feel heavy in my pocket. There was a strange anxiety attached to carrying around a once-in-a-lifetime tag, especially once the ram sightings evaporated. Doug only had one more full day to join me before work/family needed him back in Denver.

Awesome country, but dwindling ram sightings…

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The next day was Day 6 of the season and my ninth of the trip. After not finding a ram in almost three days, I was pretty down. But, hey, it was a ram tag I was trying to fill, so I got myself out of my sleeping bag and trudged up to my glassing rock in the grey light of dawn. I sat down, lifted my binos to my face and immediately saw four rams run across the shale into a patch of timber. A quick glance through the spotter revealed another in the timber, and I didn’t linger at the rock any longer. I hustled back to the tipi to grab Doug. Dad stayed at camp to watch from there, and we began the near-vertical scramble toward the sheep.

Fifty minutes later we cleared the timberline to find six rams high in the shale looking down at us. I flopped my rifle on my pack and squirmed around trying to get comfortable with the steep angle. Eventually I got semi-comfortable and began sorting through the band of rams. The biggest-looking one stood in the lead with his front shoulder exposed. It was a sharp uphill angle at 325 yards, but I settled down and the rams stayed put long enough for me to squeeze the trigger. At the sound of the shot, the rams scattered in all directions. I didn’t see one fall. Neither did Doug. But I felt pretty good about my shot execution and we worked our way up the shale.

I soon saw movement in a tiny patch of weathered krummholz. As I inched closer, here’s what I found:
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Walking up on your first ram is a pretty surreal experience. Even for Doug, there were a lot of emotions. Elation. Relief. Thankfulness to God for the provision of the mountains, the animals and the health to pursue them. It wasn’t Crush Nasty. Not sure where that guy went. But this was a ram. My ram. And I was over-the-moon excited.
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Ever since I was a kid I’ve loved bighorn rams. My daily commute as a youngster from Mammoth Hot Springs, WY to Gardiner, MT drove me through bighorn habitat in the Gardner River Canyon. I always dreamed of tagging a ram. It’s taken me over 30 years to fulfill the dream. I’m still in a little bit of shock. I can’t believe it has actually happened. I’m a sheep hunter. Thank you, Lord!
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A great story, time well spent with your Dad, beautiful country, hard work, a successful hunt. All very good things.

Better yet... Memories, burned into your brain, that you'll never lose.

Well done.
 
Leupold BX-4 Rangefinding Binoculars

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