Well me and my partner are going in tommorow. We'll see if we can meet up with IPC1. According to INCIWEB the trails are open now. We will be in until the 21st. Hopefully IPC1 has one down that we can help him pack out. I'm sure he's pretty spry for 61. But if he knocks one down when we are heading out I'm sure I can handle a pound or two more.
Idaho Unit 27-2 Bighorn Sheep
- Thread starter Idaho Predator Control 1
- Start date
T Bone
Well-known member
details?
sheepless in salmon....
We have spent a total of 3 weeks in the unit. We saw 3 ewes. No rams. Having to call it a season. No more time off and I have a daughter and girlfriend dying to shoot a deer. At this point that is more important to me than wandering the mountains not seeing a damn thing. The guy with the panther creek tag shot a good ram out the north border of our unit the other day. I think thats where the sheep are, JUST outside of the unit. So, no sheep for us. We won't put in for this one again. It was an adventure, but I'm putting in for another unit from now on.
We have spent a total of 3 weeks in the unit. We saw 3 ewes. No rams. Having to call it a season. No more time off and I have a daughter and girlfriend dying to shoot a deer. At this point that is more important to me than wandering the mountains not seeing a damn thing. The guy with the panther creek tag shot a good ram out the north border of our unit the other day. I think thats where the sheep are, JUST outside of the unit. So, no sheep for us. We won't put in for this one again. It was an adventure, but I'm putting in for another unit from now on.
idnative1948
Well-known member
Thanks for your honesty. You could have painted another picture. Family has to come first.
Good luck to you sir!
Good luck to you sir!
T Bone
Well-known member
Sounds like you gave it your all. Thanks for the follow up. Have a great remainder of the season.
Mica Man
Well-known member
I'll try and post my story and pic of the ram I shot in the adjacent unit tomorrow.
Sheepless in Salmon
Sorry Mica Man. I didn't mean to spoil your surprise. I didn't realized that was you.
So I thought you may want to read my story of my 27-2 ram hunt.
I drew a moose tag in unit 59 last year after 15 years of skunking out on deer, elk, and pronghorn draws. Put in 3 times for moose and drew. After a successful hunt I had renewed hope for hunting in Idaho as for the last few years I have been considering giving up and hunting Wyoming. I asked around about what unit to put in for bighorn. My uncle drew the unit 37 tag a few years ago and said the hunting was good but drawing the tag was tough. After weighing the draw odds and success odds I put in for unit 27-2 knowing how hard it could be. Both me and my buddy Adam drew our first year. WOW! We knew our trips would be short as my work schedule and his would not allow for a few longer ones. Our joy quickly faded to humility as we knew what lay ahead. Or so we thought....
Trip 1- We had decided to focus our efforts in the north part of the unit. As we unloaded the canoe to make our journey upriver we were fighting to contain our excitement. Loading the canoe in the wind our bucket we were required to have a per our river permit blew over into the weeds. Adam walked over to grab it. Next thing I know I hear him say "Ouch!" and then he is jumping around scrambling up on the rocks reaching for a handgun that is not attached to his hip. "Snake!" And then some ramblings on sounding like a stroke victim, "jib hish mum hooo ahem." Apparently a rock had hit the back of his heel, underneath said rock was a rattlesnake now rattling away. Thinking he was now bit there was a moment of sheer panic. Him pale and shaking like a scared puppy. Up to the pickup and looking at his heel I saw a scratch and no signs of bite. We sat there for a while to make sure. With no symptoms and a new rush of adrenaline we were on our way up the middle fork. The going was difficult but not bad. A few slips and wading around rapids and we were at goat creek. Tired and wet we made camp in the most beautiful country I had seen in a long time.
During the night we found moments of sleep while visions of bighorns danced in our heads. At some point in the night I was awoken by the sound of the floor of my tent wrinkling and crackling. A few seconds of assessment told me that it was probably a mouse and I whacked it with my boot. The next thing I know the floor of my tent is bouncing up like there is a spring underneath of it accompanied by the sound of a rattle. Knowing that I didn't bring a baby rattle along it occurred to me that a snake was UNDER MY TENT and now rather grumpy. What happened next can only be described as panic accompanied with sleep deprivation. The next thing I knew I was pointing my 300 win mag at the floor of my tent in what seemed at the time to be a perfectly rational way to handle the situation. Eventually common sense kicked in and the gun was put down. My boots were hastily put on and the bottom of my tent was stomped with such enthusiasm and speed that it must have resembled Riverdance. I exited the tent and found the snake dazed and confused underneath. I pulled it out with a stick and killed it. Walked to the river and threw it in. Walking back to my tent my partner now looked outside and asked, "You O.K.?" As if a man walking around in the middle of the night in his underwear and untied boots holding a stick over my head in club fashion was somehow abnormal.
The next morning we awoke to smoke so thick that you couldn't see more than a few hundred feet. Our gear was packed and we preceded up goat creek. We quickly got cliffed out and could not see a way around due to smoke. Getting nervous about the rocks we kicked loose seeming to take forever to hit the bottom we made our way to the creek and crossed hoping to find another way up. We proceeded up only to be cliffed out again and with the smoke thickening to the point of that equal to fog we decided it was pointless to try further. Down to the river. Camping again for another night was mostly uneventful other than a bat trying to chew into my tent being met with the sound of my stainless steel cook pan meeting him on the way in with a satisfying little ringing "Pong". Ah nature, rabies and venom abound.
Again we awoke and packed up camp. Upriver this time to see if we could climb up another draw. The next draw was very steep and took most of the day getting up high to try to locate any signs of sheep. None were found. Wolf tracks and scat were all we saw. After climbing most of the day we returned to the river and stopped on the only sandbar we could find. Both of us sweating profusely and legs feeling like rubber stilts. A couple of rafters came by and about the time we were going to beg for a ride to our camping spot and cry for our mommies the first rafter said, "OH MY GOD! How did you two get here. Your must be the toughest sonsabitches I've ever seen!" This coming from a man who looked like a tatooed biker, weathered and hardened, white beard and eyes that had the look of a man who ate raw metal and pooped out brass tacks. Damn you Ego... Damn you. Now you have an image that for some unknown reason you have to hold up. "Yep, sheep hunting. been up that mountain twice and haven't seen anything." "TWICE!" he says, "Holy Cow! You two deserve a beer!" with that he threw us two brews and was on his way. As they disappeared into the distance we heard one say. "My god, I couldn't believe it when I saw those two." The other saying again,"Toughest sonsabitches I've ever seen. Luckily they never turned around to see us curled up in the fetal position sucking our thumbs as only another sheep hunter would understand.
This pattern proceeded for 3 more days. I won't go into details as this story is getting long but it pretty much just repeats like a broken record.
On our last day at goat creek we made lunch after camp was packed. While sitting over a nice hot pot of Top Ramen a few rafters stopped and asked if they could have lunch. "Sure" we stated. Now... Apparently women who have been on the river lose all sense of shame or privacy. They just don't care if anyone sees them naked. They exited the raft and walked over to the creek to bathe.... yes BATHE. 20 feet away from me were three woman nude, soaping up, and rinsing off only lacking music to become a real life playboy bunny movie. Thinking of the wonderful women we have at home I uttered to myself, "God, I know your testing me. But I have to let you know I'm only a C student..." With that we hastily packed out cookwear and left the three women to do their thing. I'm sure there were some men around but honestly I couldn't tell you what they looked like. Back down river and home we went.
Trip 2. Adam's daughter had become ill and I had to go solo on this one. Back to the middle fork. On the trip in I saw sheep everywhere. A couple small rams in the bunch. My hopes were high. Spending the first night in my car as there was a pile of bear scat near my spot. The size of which making me think either this bear ate a jug of Metamucil after stopping a BIG JUD'S burgers, or that he was very large. I decided Metamucil being in short supply around he was big. I chatted with another sheep hunter who had draw the tag the road was on. Nice guy! Back upriver I went. The smoke had cleared and I attempted goat creek again. I made it halfway up with no sign of any animals. Deer, elk, or sheep. Nothing to be seen. Rounding the last corner to see Dome mountain I sat down and had a sandwich, some water, and glassed around a bit. Still nothing. Deciding that this was as far as I dare go solo I returned home after 3 days.
Trip 3. The Crags. Adam and I decided to try the Crags this trip. After driving to the campground we started our hike in. After a while we saw some bear tracks in the trail. Big ones! 5 and a half inches wide. We didn't make it far before snow started to fall and we decided to make camp for the night. The last weather report being that snow was expected to be 1/2 inch per day for 2 days and then clear skies. With that we tucked in for the night. This was the first night that I was out cold during the hunt. Sleeping soundly when suddenly I was awoken to my tent folding in on me. What came to my mind was the bear tracks down the trail. Bear tracks + tent caving in + dude there is a lot of weight on me now =BEAR! In a panic of fright I grabbed my handgun and flashlight on my way flying out my tent. At some point my long underwear grabbing on something. Me, still thinking said events were that of a bear trying to eat me, didn't even bother to hoist them back up. Landing somewhere with Ninja like skill the flashlight being swathed back and forth looking to my attacker. Colt python (still holstered) pointing the same direction as the flashlight. My partner sticking his head out to see me, wearing nothing but a frightened look on my face and long underwear at half mast, standing barefoot in 4 inches of snow, flashlight in hand, gun pointed at my tent (which is flat on the ground), looked for a second. Didn't even raise an eyebrow. And zipped his tent back up. Obviously now my nighttime activities are no longer surprising him. (See FUN WITH SNAKES on trip 1) Turns out 4 inches of wet heavy snow had fallen off the tree I was under and smashed my tent flatter than a pancake.
The crags were mostly uneventful. Beautiful but uneventful for us sheep hunters. We saw some sheep tracks headed south out of the unit but for 4 days could not find any living creature to look at. With more snow accumulating we decided to pull out. We covered a lot of ground, saw some amazing country, but never saw a 4 legged creature.
The trip out was fine other than when we drove out through Panther creek we saw a ram... A 3/4 curl heavy horned ram! IN THE ROAD! That's a ballbuster. I've never been a poacher and never will but as stated earlier. "God, I know your testing me but I'm just a C student!" Adam shifted gears and off we went before temptation took over moral fiber. Several more smallish rams were wandering about panther creek on our way to the middle fork. Our hopes were that a ram might be down by the river. Driving along the salmon river Ewes and lambs and a small ram. You have got to be kidding me! Excitedly we crossed the river and hiked in our unit. Nothing... Zero... Zilch...Nada... Hiking the river all the way to an impassable spot and to tired and weak to climb we turned around and went back to the pickup and then home.
Trip 4. Yet again solo. More of the same. Drive in I saw sheep, bear, and a billy goat standing 5 feet off the road. 5 days of Mountain house, questionable nightime adventures, hiking, pain, sweat, disappointment and home.
Trip 5. Our last trip. North of the unit again. We talked to one of the other sheep hunters and they said they had seen nothing in the Crags. So dome mountain again. We hiked halfway up without incident finding an old sheep horn on the way. While climbing a shale pile Adam kicked a rock loose. As it rolled by I saw a glimmer of shiny and being a man am fascinated with shiny things, grabbed it. GOLD! Not even kidding! A chunk of Quarts smaller than a fist but filled with little gold flakes. Thinking with our luck there is no way that this can be gold I picked off a piece and smashed it with my finger nail. It bent. So it's definitly a soft metal. The rock was heavy for it's size. I took it to a rock hound today and he confirmed that yes it is gold. And then asked where I found it. In reality you could melt it down and maybe get $100 out of it. There is nothing there. But it's cool and shiny and now has a home on my shelf of other cool shiny rocks I have found throughout the years.
Sorry Mica Man. I didn't mean to spoil your surprise. I didn't realized that was you.
So I thought you may want to read my story of my 27-2 ram hunt.
I drew a moose tag in unit 59 last year after 15 years of skunking out on deer, elk, and pronghorn draws. Put in 3 times for moose and drew. After a successful hunt I had renewed hope for hunting in Idaho as for the last few years I have been considering giving up and hunting Wyoming. I asked around about what unit to put in for bighorn. My uncle drew the unit 37 tag a few years ago and said the hunting was good but drawing the tag was tough. After weighing the draw odds and success odds I put in for unit 27-2 knowing how hard it could be. Both me and my buddy Adam drew our first year. WOW! We knew our trips would be short as my work schedule and his would not allow for a few longer ones. Our joy quickly faded to humility as we knew what lay ahead. Or so we thought....
Trip 1- We had decided to focus our efforts in the north part of the unit. As we unloaded the canoe to make our journey upriver we were fighting to contain our excitement. Loading the canoe in the wind our bucket we were required to have a per our river permit blew over into the weeds. Adam walked over to grab it. Next thing I know I hear him say "Ouch!" and then he is jumping around scrambling up on the rocks reaching for a handgun that is not attached to his hip. "Snake!" And then some ramblings on sounding like a stroke victim, "jib hish mum hooo ahem." Apparently a rock had hit the back of his heel, underneath said rock was a rattlesnake now rattling away. Thinking he was now bit there was a moment of sheer panic. Him pale and shaking like a scared puppy. Up to the pickup and looking at his heel I saw a scratch and no signs of bite. We sat there for a while to make sure. With no symptoms and a new rush of adrenaline we were on our way up the middle fork. The going was difficult but not bad. A few slips and wading around rapids and we were at goat creek. Tired and wet we made camp in the most beautiful country I had seen in a long time.
During the night we found moments of sleep while visions of bighorns danced in our heads. At some point in the night I was awoken by the sound of the floor of my tent wrinkling and crackling. A few seconds of assessment told me that it was probably a mouse and I whacked it with my boot. The next thing I know the floor of my tent is bouncing up like there is a spring underneath of it accompanied by the sound of a rattle. Knowing that I didn't bring a baby rattle along it occurred to me that a snake was UNDER MY TENT and now rather grumpy. What happened next can only be described as panic accompanied with sleep deprivation. The next thing I knew I was pointing my 300 win mag at the floor of my tent in what seemed at the time to be a perfectly rational way to handle the situation. Eventually common sense kicked in and the gun was put down. My boots were hastily put on and the bottom of my tent was stomped with such enthusiasm and speed that it must have resembled Riverdance. I exited the tent and found the snake dazed and confused underneath. I pulled it out with a stick and killed it. Walked to the river and threw it in. Walking back to my tent my partner now looked outside and asked, "You O.K.?" As if a man walking around in the middle of the night in his underwear and untied boots holding a stick over my head in club fashion was somehow abnormal.
The next morning we awoke to smoke so thick that you couldn't see more than a few hundred feet. Our gear was packed and we preceded up goat creek. We quickly got cliffed out and could not see a way around due to smoke. Getting nervous about the rocks we kicked loose seeming to take forever to hit the bottom we made our way to the creek and crossed hoping to find another way up. We proceeded up only to be cliffed out again and with the smoke thickening to the point of that equal to fog we decided it was pointless to try further. Down to the river. Camping again for another night was mostly uneventful other than a bat trying to chew into my tent being met with the sound of my stainless steel cook pan meeting him on the way in with a satisfying little ringing "Pong". Ah nature, rabies and venom abound.
Again we awoke and packed up camp. Upriver this time to see if we could climb up another draw. The next draw was very steep and took most of the day getting up high to try to locate any signs of sheep. None were found. Wolf tracks and scat were all we saw. After climbing most of the day we returned to the river and stopped on the only sandbar we could find. Both of us sweating profusely and legs feeling like rubber stilts. A couple of rafters came by and about the time we were going to beg for a ride to our camping spot and cry for our mommies the first rafter said, "OH MY GOD! How did you two get here. Your must be the toughest sonsabitches I've ever seen!" This coming from a man who looked like a tatooed biker, weathered and hardened, white beard and eyes that had the look of a man who ate raw metal and pooped out brass tacks. Damn you Ego... Damn you. Now you have an image that for some unknown reason you have to hold up. "Yep, sheep hunting. been up that mountain twice and haven't seen anything." "TWICE!" he says, "Holy Cow! You two deserve a beer!" with that he threw us two brews and was on his way. As they disappeared into the distance we heard one say. "My god, I couldn't believe it when I saw those two." The other saying again,"Toughest sonsabitches I've ever seen. Luckily they never turned around to see us curled up in the fetal position sucking our thumbs as only another sheep hunter would understand.
This pattern proceeded for 3 more days. I won't go into details as this story is getting long but it pretty much just repeats like a broken record.
On our last day at goat creek we made lunch after camp was packed. While sitting over a nice hot pot of Top Ramen a few rafters stopped and asked if they could have lunch. "Sure" we stated. Now... Apparently women who have been on the river lose all sense of shame or privacy. They just don't care if anyone sees them naked. They exited the raft and walked over to the creek to bathe.... yes BATHE. 20 feet away from me were three woman nude, soaping up, and rinsing off only lacking music to become a real life playboy bunny movie. Thinking of the wonderful women we have at home I uttered to myself, "God, I know your testing me. But I have to let you know I'm only a C student..." With that we hastily packed out cookwear and left the three women to do their thing. I'm sure there were some men around but honestly I couldn't tell you what they looked like. Back down river and home we went.
Trip 2. Adam's daughter had become ill and I had to go solo on this one. Back to the middle fork. On the trip in I saw sheep everywhere. A couple small rams in the bunch. My hopes were high. Spending the first night in my car as there was a pile of bear scat near my spot. The size of which making me think either this bear ate a jug of Metamucil after stopping a BIG JUD'S burgers, or that he was very large. I decided Metamucil being in short supply around he was big. I chatted with another sheep hunter who had draw the tag the road was on. Nice guy! Back upriver I went. The smoke had cleared and I attempted goat creek again. I made it halfway up with no sign of any animals. Deer, elk, or sheep. Nothing to be seen. Rounding the last corner to see Dome mountain I sat down and had a sandwich, some water, and glassed around a bit. Still nothing. Deciding that this was as far as I dare go solo I returned home after 3 days.
Trip 3. The Crags. Adam and I decided to try the Crags this trip. After driving to the campground we started our hike in. After a while we saw some bear tracks in the trail. Big ones! 5 and a half inches wide. We didn't make it far before snow started to fall and we decided to make camp for the night. The last weather report being that snow was expected to be 1/2 inch per day for 2 days and then clear skies. With that we tucked in for the night. This was the first night that I was out cold during the hunt. Sleeping soundly when suddenly I was awoken to my tent folding in on me. What came to my mind was the bear tracks down the trail. Bear tracks + tent caving in + dude there is a lot of weight on me now =BEAR! In a panic of fright I grabbed my handgun and flashlight on my way flying out my tent. At some point my long underwear grabbing on something. Me, still thinking said events were that of a bear trying to eat me, didn't even bother to hoist them back up. Landing somewhere with Ninja like skill the flashlight being swathed back and forth looking to my attacker. Colt python (still holstered) pointing the same direction as the flashlight. My partner sticking his head out to see me, wearing nothing but a frightened look on my face and long underwear at half mast, standing barefoot in 4 inches of snow, flashlight in hand, gun pointed at my tent (which is flat on the ground), looked for a second. Didn't even raise an eyebrow. And zipped his tent back up. Obviously now my nighttime activities are no longer surprising him. (See FUN WITH SNAKES on trip 1) Turns out 4 inches of wet heavy snow had fallen off the tree I was under and smashed my tent flatter than a pancake.
The crags were mostly uneventful. Beautiful but uneventful for us sheep hunters. We saw some sheep tracks headed south out of the unit but for 4 days could not find any living creature to look at. With more snow accumulating we decided to pull out. We covered a lot of ground, saw some amazing country, but never saw a 4 legged creature.
The trip out was fine other than when we drove out through Panther creek we saw a ram... A 3/4 curl heavy horned ram! IN THE ROAD! That's a ballbuster. I've never been a poacher and never will but as stated earlier. "God, I know your testing me but I'm just a C student!" Adam shifted gears and off we went before temptation took over moral fiber. Several more smallish rams were wandering about panther creek on our way to the middle fork. Our hopes were that a ram might be down by the river. Driving along the salmon river Ewes and lambs and a small ram. You have got to be kidding me! Excitedly we crossed the river and hiked in our unit. Nothing... Zero... Zilch...Nada... Hiking the river all the way to an impassable spot and to tired and weak to climb we turned around and went back to the pickup and then home.
Trip 4. Yet again solo. More of the same. Drive in I saw sheep, bear, and a billy goat standing 5 feet off the road. 5 days of Mountain house, questionable nightime adventures, hiking, pain, sweat, disappointment and home.
Trip 5. Our last trip. North of the unit again. We talked to one of the other sheep hunters and they said they had seen nothing in the Crags. So dome mountain again. We hiked halfway up without incident finding an old sheep horn on the way. While climbing a shale pile Adam kicked a rock loose. As it rolled by I saw a glimmer of shiny and being a man am fascinated with shiny things, grabbed it. GOLD! Not even kidding! A chunk of Quarts smaller than a fist but filled with little gold flakes. Thinking with our luck there is no way that this can be gold I picked off a piece and smashed it with my finger nail. It bent. So it's definitly a soft metal. The rock was heavy for it's size. I took it to a rock hound today and he confirmed that yes it is gold. And then asked where I found it. In reality you could melt it down and maybe get $100 out of it. There is nothing there. But it's cool and shiny and now has a home on my shelf of other cool shiny rocks I have found throughout the years.
Sheepless in Salmon cont.
The next day found us too sore to move. Fishing day. Yes the last few weeks were finally taking it's toll on our bodies and we couldn't muster the strength to push through the pain. And as our luck held out. No fish. Stopping at the local Saloon for a beer before bed we walked into the MT saddle Saloon. Now that is a cool place. Old keepsakes surround the wall with a Giant picture of a nude woman in front of a battleship. An old broken guitar hanging from the rafters that apparently belonged to Hank Williams. Cool place to visit.
Day 3 we pushed hard having rested the day before. As we hit the Y in goat creek I looked up the hill... SHEEP! Up went the binoculars and we started looking. 3 ewes. We climbed the mountain on the opposite side to get a good look. Sure enough. No rams. At all. We climbed back down and proceeded up goat creek. At the bottom of Dome mountain we glassed. Climbed over and had a peek into Roaring creek. No sheep. We glassed for hours and hours. With daylight fading and knowing we needed to be back out we turned back. We saw the ewes again and knowing this was our last trip for the year I started looking for any sign that those ewes were actually a baby ram. Yea, I was at that point. If one of those tiny horned critters had boy parts. BOOM! turns out none of them did. Defeated again we went out. The next day found me taking the right of the fork in goat creek. All day climb. Glassing. Climbing. Glassing. No sheep. No Deer. Nothing. Same with the last day. Climb and glass. Climb and glass. Nothing.
The last day in salmon we fished our way out. To sore to move. We chatted with the Man who has the Ram tag on the Shoup side. He had seen 15 sheep and was trying to find them again. His wife showed us a picture of a dead ram that was shot in that sliver north of 27-2. Mica man if that was you that is a dandy ram and congratulations. You earned it. She told us where it was and how you got it. But I'll let you tell where if you want. I think that's where the rams we were looking for were. Just out of our unit on the wrong side of the mountain. We looked and looked and never saw one.
Now I sit here with my girlfriend and her daughter asking about deer season opening in a few days. My Lovely significant other just itching to shoot her first deer and her daughter cleaning her new muzzleloader in anticipation of her elk hunt. I have a few days left for a ram but at this point I think I'm going scouting for her buck and the younger ones elk. They have already given so much last year with my moose tag and this year with my ram. I think right now it's more important to me to make sure that their hunt is successful and my not. 27-2 Sheep is and adventure. But not one I'm going to repeat. Mountain goat is my next goal. I have to wait to put in for sheep again anyway. But when I'm able to apply, I think I'll focus my efforts elsewhere and keep what little sanity I have left. Good hunting fellas and remember, Keep your sense of humor. It will save you on these hunts sometimes.
The next day found us too sore to move. Fishing day. Yes the last few weeks were finally taking it's toll on our bodies and we couldn't muster the strength to push through the pain. And as our luck held out. No fish. Stopping at the local Saloon for a beer before bed we walked into the MT saddle Saloon. Now that is a cool place. Old keepsakes surround the wall with a Giant picture of a nude woman in front of a battleship. An old broken guitar hanging from the rafters that apparently belonged to Hank Williams. Cool place to visit.
Day 3 we pushed hard having rested the day before. As we hit the Y in goat creek I looked up the hill... SHEEP! Up went the binoculars and we started looking. 3 ewes. We climbed the mountain on the opposite side to get a good look. Sure enough. No rams. At all. We climbed back down and proceeded up goat creek. At the bottom of Dome mountain we glassed. Climbed over and had a peek into Roaring creek. No sheep. We glassed for hours and hours. With daylight fading and knowing we needed to be back out we turned back. We saw the ewes again and knowing this was our last trip for the year I started looking for any sign that those ewes were actually a baby ram. Yea, I was at that point. If one of those tiny horned critters had boy parts. BOOM! turns out none of them did. Defeated again we went out. The next day found me taking the right of the fork in goat creek. All day climb. Glassing. Climbing. Glassing. No sheep. No Deer. Nothing. Same with the last day. Climb and glass. Climb and glass. Nothing.
The last day in salmon we fished our way out. To sore to move. We chatted with the Man who has the Ram tag on the Shoup side. He had seen 15 sheep and was trying to find them again. His wife showed us a picture of a dead ram that was shot in that sliver north of 27-2. Mica man if that was you that is a dandy ram and congratulations. You earned it. She told us where it was and how you got it. But I'll let you tell where if you want. I think that's where the rams we were looking for were. Just out of our unit on the wrong side of the mountain. We looked and looked and never saw one.
Now I sit here with my girlfriend and her daughter asking about deer season opening in a few days. My Lovely significant other just itching to shoot her first deer and her daughter cleaning her new muzzleloader in anticipation of her elk hunt. I have a few days left for a ram but at this point I think I'm going scouting for her buck and the younger ones elk. They have already given so much last year with my moose tag and this year with my ram. I think right now it's more important to me to make sure that their hunt is successful and my not. 27-2 Sheep is and adventure. But not one I'm going to repeat. Mountain goat is my next goal. I have to wait to put in for sheep again anyway. But when I'm able to apply, I think I'll focus my efforts elsewhere and keep what little sanity I have left. Good hunting fellas and remember, Keep your sense of humor. It will save you on these hunts sometimes.
Sounds like you gave it the college try. That part about the rattlesnake under your tent had me laughing my head off. Snakes have such a way of eliciting a primal fear response, it's amazing and funny at the same time. I had my own snake encounter not too far from where you were at that made me nearly crap my pants.
Joe Hulburt
Well-known member
Sounds like a great hunt! 
Sometimes a sense of humor is all there is to hang on to. Heck of an effort.
Sometimes a sense of humor is all there is to hang on to. Heck of an effort.Buck Fever
Member
Great read, that hunt will definitely leave you and your buddy with some incredible memories. sounds like you gave it your all! Yep we got lucky and never did run into a SNAKE on our hunts..thank god! thanks for sharing
T Bone
Well-known member
Excellent writing skills.
That place humbles a guy fast.
It's a hunt that will stick with you forever.
Sorry you didn't punch the tag.
That place humbles a guy fast.
It's a hunt that will stick with you forever.
Sorry you didn't punch the tag.
Ultrahunter
Active member
Tough hunt for sure. Thanks for putting in the effort. I appreciate a guy that gives his all in there. Tough country on the mind and body. Id say half the guys that draw that tag wuss out and quit. You didnt and went "all in" Good luck with your future hunts.
I think if a guy could take a few weeks off and get far into the unit he could produce a ram. We couldn't get that time off. Ours was 3-5 trips so we just got part way in and glassed. Not the way to hunt that unit but I had to try. Oh well. Mayne i'll draw again before I die.
Pretty sure it wasn't the same unit (still a 27 unit), but a pard of mine shot his ram on the 32nd day he spent hunting IIRC. I went with him for 10days in September and again when he got it at the very tail end of the season (Nov?). He had a 2 week or so trip as well in Oct with a pard that had a mtn goat tag for the unit, which they did fill then.
BigHornRam
Well-known member
Great story! Tough place to hunt for sure.
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