Oh No Ewe Aren't: Humbled by the Breaks
- Thread starter Clarq
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photohunter
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- Joined
- Aug 24, 2016
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- 30
Big congrats! Following too. Thanks.
DAY 1 – NIGHTMARE COULEE
I began doing complex math problems began in my head as soon as the walk back started. How far should I go before I cache the first load of meat? Obviously, the farther I could carry everything today, the shorter the pack out would be tomorrow. But if I kept a heavy load on too long, I might run out of steam entirely. Or injure myself.
I passed a tree that looked like a good spot to hang some meat. Something told me this was the place I'd better stop. I checked my maps. 4.7 miles away from the truck. Yikes. I guess I had 9.4 miles to walk tomorrow. I didn’t want to think about that. Maybe it would be better to focus on what I still had to do today. I bagged and hung the front quarters, drunk the last of my water, and headed on.
I soon arrived at a geographic feature I've since named Nightmare Coulee. A classic Breaks Canyon, basically made of mud. To traverse it, I'd need to drop and then regain about 300 feet of vertical elevation in a short distance. It went well enough on the walk in, when the ground was frozen. Now, the temperature was probably in the mid-40s, the sun was out, and the snow was melting. The ground was soup and the walking was horrendous. I cautiously made my way downhill, slipping and sliding as I went. Once at the bottom, I wondered whether I'd get back up the other side.
I did, but it was a fight. My trekking poles were absolutely essential in finding my rhythm and getting up that stupid hill. Dig the poles into the mud. Suck my feet out of the mud. Shuffle uphill a few feet and get some footing. Suck my trekking poles out of the mud. Move the poles uphill. Repeat. Oh, and every 15 feet or so, use the poles to push the enormous balls of mud off of my boots. Even with the poles, I may or may not have fallen to my knees several times. I was absolutely spent when I got to the top. I rested for a few minutes and headed on, but it soon became clear that my energy was failing me. I was also out of water and starting to get thirsty. A handful of snow here and there kept me going.
I really didn’t want to cache any more meat. If I couldn’t carry two quarters, plus head and backstraps/trimmings today, would I be able to retrieve 3 quarters tomorrow? On the other hand, I guess the walking would be easier if I came back when the ground was frozen. And I wouldn’t have to bring all my hunting equipment along… Pretty soon, my aching back won and I found a tree suitable to hang another quarter.
Before putting my pack back on, I took a hopeful glance at my map. Still 3.7 miles from the truck. Crap. A measly mile since the last cache. And it had taken me an hour to do it. It was 4:30 PM. At that pace, I’d be back well after dark.
I tried to enjoy the views before darkness took over. Nice place.
I’ll confess, though, it was getting harder to enjoy myself.
I began doing complex math problems began in my head as soon as the walk back started. How far should I go before I cache the first load of meat? Obviously, the farther I could carry everything today, the shorter the pack out would be tomorrow. But if I kept a heavy load on too long, I might run out of steam entirely. Or injure myself.
I passed a tree that looked like a good spot to hang some meat. Something told me this was the place I'd better stop. I checked my maps. 4.7 miles away from the truck. Yikes. I guess I had 9.4 miles to walk tomorrow. I didn’t want to think about that. Maybe it would be better to focus on what I still had to do today. I bagged and hung the front quarters, drunk the last of my water, and headed on.
I soon arrived at a geographic feature I've since named Nightmare Coulee. A classic Breaks Canyon, basically made of mud. To traverse it, I'd need to drop and then regain about 300 feet of vertical elevation in a short distance. It went well enough on the walk in, when the ground was frozen. Now, the temperature was probably in the mid-40s, the sun was out, and the snow was melting. The ground was soup and the walking was horrendous. I cautiously made my way downhill, slipping and sliding as I went. Once at the bottom, I wondered whether I'd get back up the other side.
I did, but it was a fight. My trekking poles were absolutely essential in finding my rhythm and getting up that stupid hill. Dig the poles into the mud. Suck my feet out of the mud. Shuffle uphill a few feet and get some footing. Suck my trekking poles out of the mud. Move the poles uphill. Repeat. Oh, and every 15 feet or so, use the poles to push the enormous balls of mud off of my boots. Even with the poles, I may or may not have fallen to my knees several times. I was absolutely spent when I got to the top. I rested for a few minutes and headed on, but it soon became clear that my energy was failing me. I was also out of water and starting to get thirsty. A handful of snow here and there kept me going.
I really didn’t want to cache any more meat. If I couldn’t carry two quarters, plus head and backstraps/trimmings today, would I be able to retrieve 3 quarters tomorrow? On the other hand, I guess the walking would be easier if I came back when the ground was frozen. And I wouldn’t have to bring all my hunting equipment along… Pretty soon, my aching back won and I found a tree suitable to hang another quarter.
Before putting my pack back on, I took a hopeful glance at my map. Still 3.7 miles from the truck. Crap. A measly mile since the last cache. And it had taken me an hour to do it. It was 4:30 PM. At that pace, I’d be back well after dark.
I tried to enjoy the views before darkness took over. Nice place.
I’ll confess, though, it was getting harder to enjoy myself.
Bluffgruff
Well-known member
I'm reliving my hunt in snippets and flashbacks as I read through yours - that mud though....
BrowningCitori
Well-known member
- Joined
- Oct 23, 2023
- Messages
- 89
Great writing, can't wait to read the rest My friend shot a cow elk near there last weekend. Tow ropes were required to get his truck out...
DAY 1 – EVENING
One of the requests of the landowners was that I check in with them before hunting and then check in again before leaving. I told them in the morning that I’d plan to be back around dark. Possibly a bit later. It wasn’t looking like I’d make that deadline.
Guess I’d better get them an update – otherwise, they might send search and rescue after me. While the thought of a rescue party sounded appealing in some respects, I wasn’t ready to go there just yet. I didn’t have cell service. I pulled out my new InReach and sent my Mom a message, letting her know that I was fine but that it was going to be a late one, and asking her to call the landowners and provide an update. She did so. I didn't expect to need an InReach that trip, but it sure was handy to have it.
I started walking again. The weight in my pack felt like something I could probably handle for the rest of the walk, and I started feeling a little more optimistic. The mud was nasty, but it also wasn’t absolutely everywhere. In many places, I could walk on sagebrush and grass and get some relief. I could also walk on patches of snow – they were slick and not super easy walking either, but a little better than the mud was.
A short distance later, I started feeling a little bit off. I just wasn’t feeling strong or energetic. What was going on? Are you staying hydrated? Yeah, I’ve been eating plenty of snow. Are you getting sick? I hope not… How much have you eaten today? Hmmm… a donut for breakfast. A couple of granola bars on the walk out. Holy ****! I’ve probably eaten 600 calories all day! That would explain it. Call me crazy, but there’s something about playing around with sheep guts that really kills my appetite. I hadn’t thought about food since I’d first laid eyes on my ewe.
I couldn’t believe myself. I often don’t eat enough on hunts for whatever reason, but I should have been more careful this time around. I stopped right there and pulled out my food, eating at a pace that hopefully wouldn’t overwhelm me or make me sick. After resting a good 10 minutes, I got back to work. I could feel my strength picking up a little while later. I was able to keep a steady pace.
Darkness started to descend.
One of the requests of the landowners was that I check in with them before hunting and then check in again before leaving. I told them in the morning that I’d plan to be back around dark. Possibly a bit later. It wasn’t looking like I’d make that deadline.
Guess I’d better get them an update – otherwise, they might send search and rescue after me. While the thought of a rescue party sounded appealing in some respects, I wasn’t ready to go there just yet. I didn’t have cell service. I pulled out my new InReach and sent my Mom a message, letting her know that I was fine but that it was going to be a late one, and asking her to call the landowners and provide an update. She did so. I didn't expect to need an InReach that trip, but it sure was handy to have it.
I started walking again. The weight in my pack felt like something I could probably handle for the rest of the walk, and I started feeling a little more optimistic. The mud was nasty, but it also wasn’t absolutely everywhere. In many places, I could walk on sagebrush and grass and get some relief. I could also walk on patches of snow – they were slick and not super easy walking either, but a little better than the mud was.
A short distance later, I started feeling a little bit off. I just wasn’t feeling strong or energetic. What was going on? Are you staying hydrated? Yeah, I’ve been eating plenty of snow. Are you getting sick? I hope not… How much have you eaten today? Hmmm… a donut for breakfast. A couple of granola bars on the walk out. Holy ****! I’ve probably eaten 600 calories all day! That would explain it. Call me crazy, but there’s something about playing around with sheep guts that really kills my appetite. I hadn’t thought about food since I’d first laid eyes on my ewe.
I couldn’t believe myself. I often don’t eat enough on hunts for whatever reason, but I should have been more careful this time around. I stopped right there and pulled out my food, eating at a pace that hopefully wouldn’t overwhelm me or make me sick. After resting a good 10 minutes, I got back to work. I could feel my strength picking up a little while later. I was able to keep a steady pace.
Darkness started to descend.
DAY 1 – NIGHT
The forecast called for overnight lows in the 20s. Once the sun disappeared over the horizon, it got cold, and fast. I bundled up.
I was wearing an old pair of Danner High Ground boots that I absolutely love. I’ve put all sorts of miles on them, in all sorts of terrain, and they’ve performed very well. On this trip, though, I discovered that they’re not as waterproof as they used to be. By evening, they were soaked straight through, and my feet were getting cold. There didn’t seem to be much I could do to warm them up, except walk. Pretty soon, that wasn’t helping much either.
Without the scenery to distract me, my thoughts turned to the morning, and to the forecast. With as cold as it was getting, I’d have frozen ground in the morning. However, highs were supposed to be in the 40s, and rain was supposed to hit around 11:00 AM and continue all day and night – 0.5 inches or more in total. If I was on the wrong side of Nightmare Coulee after it started raining, I was toast.
The rest of the walk back was fairly uneventful. I kept putting one foot in front of the other and eventually got back, toes cold but not quite frozen when I arrived back at the truck. I checked in with the landowners, who invited me in briefly. I must have been quite a sight – muddy, dazed, and exhausted. I explained what I had done that day and what I still had to get done tomorrow. We checked the weather and determined that my only shot at getting the rest of my meat out would be to beat the rain. We settled in on a check-in time for the next morning and I went to my truck, eager to get back to the motel.
I climbed into the driver’s seat. Both of my legs simultaneously exploded in pain, cramping up hard. Particularly that set of muscles you use to yank your foot out of nasty mud. I hadn’t exercised those enough, as it turns out. I sat there for a minute, trying to fight through the pain without crying. What on earth have you gotten yourself into? At that point, I seriously wondered whether I would be able to finish what I’d started.
The roads were crap. I spent a good portion of the drive spinning my wheels. I eventually got a little bit careless – I was dying to get back and get some rest. I was going too fast when I hit a bad patch of mud and fishtailed hard, nearly sliding off the side of the road. I turned the wheel, kept pressure on the gas, and managed to keep it on the road. Come on, concentrate! It was hard to concentrate. I didn’t have much left in me.
I made it back to the motel sometime after 10:00 PM. I desperately needed to eat, sleep, shower, and prepare for the morning. Where to start? I smelled horrendous – a mixture of bighorn sheep stench and nasty B.O. Ok, shower it is. Then dinner. Then preparations. By the time I was ready for bed, it was nearly midnight. I set an alarm for 5:00 AM and crawled into bed, exhausted.
After the day I’d just had, I thought sleep would come quickly. It didn’t. It’s hard to sleep when every part of your body hurts. More than that, I was turning into a nervous wreck. Did I have it in me to complete the pack out? What if the rain came early? Would the roads be passable once the rain started?
Eventually, the exhaustion overcame me and I settled into a fitful sleep.
The forecast called for overnight lows in the 20s. Once the sun disappeared over the horizon, it got cold, and fast. I bundled up.
I was wearing an old pair of Danner High Ground boots that I absolutely love. I’ve put all sorts of miles on them, in all sorts of terrain, and they’ve performed very well. On this trip, though, I discovered that they’re not as waterproof as they used to be. By evening, they were soaked straight through, and my feet were getting cold. There didn’t seem to be much I could do to warm them up, except walk. Pretty soon, that wasn’t helping much either.
Without the scenery to distract me, my thoughts turned to the morning, and to the forecast. With as cold as it was getting, I’d have frozen ground in the morning. However, highs were supposed to be in the 40s, and rain was supposed to hit around 11:00 AM and continue all day and night – 0.5 inches or more in total. If I was on the wrong side of Nightmare Coulee after it started raining, I was toast.
The rest of the walk back was fairly uneventful. I kept putting one foot in front of the other and eventually got back, toes cold but not quite frozen when I arrived back at the truck. I checked in with the landowners, who invited me in briefly. I must have been quite a sight – muddy, dazed, and exhausted. I explained what I had done that day and what I still had to get done tomorrow. We checked the weather and determined that my only shot at getting the rest of my meat out would be to beat the rain. We settled in on a check-in time for the next morning and I went to my truck, eager to get back to the motel.
I climbed into the driver’s seat. Both of my legs simultaneously exploded in pain, cramping up hard. Particularly that set of muscles you use to yank your foot out of nasty mud. I hadn’t exercised those enough, as it turns out. I sat there for a minute, trying to fight through the pain without crying. What on earth have you gotten yourself into? At that point, I seriously wondered whether I would be able to finish what I’d started.
The roads were crap. I spent a good portion of the drive spinning my wheels. I eventually got a little bit careless – I was dying to get back and get some rest. I was going too fast when I hit a bad patch of mud and fishtailed hard, nearly sliding off the side of the road. I turned the wheel, kept pressure on the gas, and managed to keep it on the road. Come on, concentrate! It was hard to concentrate. I didn’t have much left in me.
I made it back to the motel sometime after 10:00 PM. I desperately needed to eat, sleep, shower, and prepare for the morning. Where to start? I smelled horrendous – a mixture of bighorn sheep stench and nasty B.O. Ok, shower it is. Then dinner. Then preparations. By the time I was ready for bed, it was nearly midnight. I set an alarm for 5:00 AM and crawled into bed, exhausted.
After the day I’d just had, I thought sleep would come quickly. It didn’t. It’s hard to sleep when every part of your body hurts. More than that, I was turning into a nervous wreck. Did I have it in me to complete the pack out? What if the rain came early? Would the roads be passable once the rain started?
Eventually, the exhaustion overcame me and I settled into a fitful sleep.
DAY 2 – THE GIFT
I’d be surprised if I got two hours of good sleep that night. It took a long time to unwind and relax enough to fall asleep. On top of that, I woke up 5 or 6 times throughout the night (a few of those due to cramps). The alarm came way too soon, but the impending rain had forced my hand. I got up and got going.
The drive in was uneventful enough. The ground had frozen overnight and the mud wasn’t too crazy. Good. I can walk on ground like this. I began putting my strategy together. Nightmare Coulee was the big obstacle. If it rained on top of it or if it thawed out before I got back across, I was in trouble. I determined I’d walk as fast as I reasonably could while my pack was empty, then load up the front quarters and haul *** until I was back across Nightmare Coulee – hopefully, before the rain hit. At that point, I’d just do the best I could. I would quite likely just have to put my rain gear on and slog through the last few miles.
I arrived to check in with the landowners and was offered an incredible gift: a ride. It made for an anticlimactic story (sorry, everyone), but I sure was glad to get it.
Their property had some rough two track roads to facilitate their ranching operation. They didn’t want me driving on them and tearing them up while they were muddy and wet. I hadn’t wanted to drive them, anyway. My truck is nothing special as far as off-road capability goes, and I didn’t want to go out there and get stuck.
Evidently, I was in a sorry state when I came back to check in with them last night. Enough so that they wanted to help. They figured that the ground was frozen enough that they could at least take me out and drop me off first thing in the morning without damaging their roads. I accepted their offer, feeling a bit sheepish but grateful nonetheless. I joined one of them in a very capable 4 x 4 and we were off. We drove 3 miles before reaching a logical jumping-off point. I thanked the driver profusely and got to work.
Once again, I started doing the math in my head. My farthest cache was 1.7 miles away, on the other side of Nightmare Coulee. I had about 3 hours before the rain was supposed to hit.
When I checked in with my parents the previous night, my dad had suggested bringing the gun along in case there was a bear or cougar on my meat cache. I politely told him that I would most definitely not be doing that. At that point, I would have rather wrestled a grizzly bear with my bare hands than carry that blasted rifle another 9+ miles. The weight of a scoped rifle, binoculars, rangefinder, meat saw, etc. really adds up, and I was grateful to have that off my back for day 2. As I got going, I felt good and strong. The frozen ground and lack of weight in my pack made all the difference in the world.
I passed the nearer of the two caches and, with a glance, found that my meat was undisturbed. Good. I’d be back to pick it up in no time. I hustled through Nightmare Coulee and made it to the more remote cache. Same deal, no problems. I loaded up the front quarters and hustled back. Nightmare Coulee was still frozen, and I got through it well enough. The adrenaline of the morning was starting to wear off, and I was tired from yesterday’s events. Heading back uphill with a loaded pack wasn’t easy, but the ground was solid and I was grateful for that.
I got back to the other cache, loaded up the meat, and started walking again. I surveyed the sky. It was cloudy, but it looks like the rain wasn’t imminent yet. I was still feeling pretty good. I’m going to beat this rain. If yesterday was a marathon, today was a sprint. I wanted out in a bad way. With each passing second, the ground was only getting softer, and the storm was only getting closer. Best to cover ground as fast as I could.
When I was still a few miles out, the landowners once again came to my aid. The cloud cover had kept the roads hard, and they thought to come back out and get me. I was grateful beyond words. I hopped in, and pretty soon we were back at the truck.
I was humbled. They had made my entire hunt possible by granting me access to their land. On top of that, they had offered their time and equipment to help out. And they wouldn’t accept any payment for it. I hope there’s a special place in heaven for people like that. I’d love to tell the whole world their names and how great they are, but at their wish, they are going to remain anonymous.
I did my best to express my appreciation – letting them know how long I had dreamed about hunting the Breaks, and how much it all meant to me. We wished each other well, and I headed out.
Within 20 minutes, it was pouring rain (it did so the rest of the day and most of the night). The landowners really bailed me out. I think I’d have survived the day without the help they offered, but it would have been a real fight.
I’d be surprised if I got two hours of good sleep that night. It took a long time to unwind and relax enough to fall asleep. On top of that, I woke up 5 or 6 times throughout the night (a few of those due to cramps). The alarm came way too soon, but the impending rain had forced my hand. I got up and got going.
The drive in was uneventful enough. The ground had frozen overnight and the mud wasn’t too crazy. Good. I can walk on ground like this. I began putting my strategy together. Nightmare Coulee was the big obstacle. If it rained on top of it or if it thawed out before I got back across, I was in trouble. I determined I’d walk as fast as I reasonably could while my pack was empty, then load up the front quarters and haul *** until I was back across Nightmare Coulee – hopefully, before the rain hit. At that point, I’d just do the best I could. I would quite likely just have to put my rain gear on and slog through the last few miles.
I arrived to check in with the landowners and was offered an incredible gift: a ride. It made for an anticlimactic story (sorry, everyone), but I sure was glad to get it.
Their property had some rough two track roads to facilitate their ranching operation. They didn’t want me driving on them and tearing them up while they were muddy and wet. I hadn’t wanted to drive them, anyway. My truck is nothing special as far as off-road capability goes, and I didn’t want to go out there and get stuck.
Evidently, I was in a sorry state when I came back to check in with them last night. Enough so that they wanted to help. They figured that the ground was frozen enough that they could at least take me out and drop me off first thing in the morning without damaging their roads. I accepted their offer, feeling a bit sheepish but grateful nonetheless. I joined one of them in a very capable 4 x 4 and we were off. We drove 3 miles before reaching a logical jumping-off point. I thanked the driver profusely and got to work.
Once again, I started doing the math in my head. My farthest cache was 1.7 miles away, on the other side of Nightmare Coulee. I had about 3 hours before the rain was supposed to hit.
When I checked in with my parents the previous night, my dad had suggested bringing the gun along in case there was a bear or cougar on my meat cache. I politely told him that I would most definitely not be doing that. At that point, I would have rather wrestled a grizzly bear with my bare hands than carry that blasted rifle another 9+ miles. The weight of a scoped rifle, binoculars, rangefinder, meat saw, etc. really adds up, and I was grateful to have that off my back for day 2. As I got going, I felt good and strong. The frozen ground and lack of weight in my pack made all the difference in the world.
I passed the nearer of the two caches and, with a glance, found that my meat was undisturbed. Good. I’d be back to pick it up in no time. I hustled through Nightmare Coulee and made it to the more remote cache. Same deal, no problems. I loaded up the front quarters and hustled back. Nightmare Coulee was still frozen, and I got through it well enough. The adrenaline of the morning was starting to wear off, and I was tired from yesterday’s events. Heading back uphill with a loaded pack wasn’t easy, but the ground was solid and I was grateful for that.
I got back to the other cache, loaded up the meat, and started walking again. I surveyed the sky. It was cloudy, but it looks like the rain wasn’t imminent yet. I was still feeling pretty good. I’m going to beat this rain. If yesterday was a marathon, today was a sprint. I wanted out in a bad way. With each passing second, the ground was only getting softer, and the storm was only getting closer. Best to cover ground as fast as I could.
When I was still a few miles out, the landowners once again came to my aid. The cloud cover had kept the roads hard, and they thought to come back out and get me. I was grateful beyond words. I hopped in, and pretty soon we were back at the truck.
I was humbled. They had made my entire hunt possible by granting me access to their land. On top of that, they had offered their time and equipment to help out. And they wouldn’t accept any payment for it. I hope there’s a special place in heaven for people like that. I’d love to tell the whole world their names and how great they are, but at their wish, they are going to remain anonymous.
I did my best to express my appreciation – letting them know how long I had dreamed about hunting the Breaks, and how much it all meant to me. We wished each other well, and I headed out.
Within 20 minutes, it was pouring rain (it did so the rest of the day and most of the night). The landowners really bailed me out. I think I’d have survived the day without the help they offered, but it would have been a real fight.
REFLECTIONS
The roads were a mess, but passable. I felt a lot of emotions as I made the drive back to the motel. On one hand, I felt like I’d gotten away with murder. I’d managed to go in blind and harvest a sheep during an extremely tight window of time, barely beating the rain. I couldn’t believe how well it all worked out.
On the other hand, it really wasn’t me who pulled all that off. Sure, I’d put the work in, but I also needed a ton of help to make it happen. Besides the gracious landowners who made it all possible and bailed me out on day 2, I also owed a lot to the biologist who pointed me in the right direction, and to the friendly locals who put me in touch with the landowners in the first place. I also owed a debt of gratitude to the coworkers and neighbors who were holding things down while I was away. And all the friends and strangers who offered advice and encouragement, including some great folks here on Hunt Talk.
Beyond that, there’s the fact that I just happened to run across a lone ewe out on the flats. What are the odds? I thought back to the prayer I’d said the morning before. Again – I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about God. If he exists, I tend to think that my sheep hunt wouldn’t important enough that he would intervene to help. Nonetheless, everything worked out so perfectly that I couldn't help but at least wonder if I may have had a little help. I guess I'll never really know.
I’m nothing more than a middle class working stiff, but on that day, I felt like a rich man. Sometimes, we get way more than we deserve.
I slept the rest of the day away.
The roads were a mess, but passable. I felt a lot of emotions as I made the drive back to the motel. On one hand, I felt like I’d gotten away with murder. I’d managed to go in blind and harvest a sheep during an extremely tight window of time, barely beating the rain. I couldn’t believe how well it all worked out.
On the other hand, it really wasn’t me who pulled all that off. Sure, I’d put the work in, but I also needed a ton of help to make it happen. Besides the gracious landowners who made it all possible and bailed me out on day 2, I also owed a lot to the biologist who pointed me in the right direction, and to the friendly locals who put me in touch with the landowners in the first place. I also owed a debt of gratitude to the coworkers and neighbors who were holding things down while I was away. And all the friends and strangers who offered advice and encouragement, including some great folks here on Hunt Talk.
Beyond that, there’s the fact that I just happened to run across a lone ewe out on the flats. What are the odds? I thought back to the prayer I’d said the morning before. Again – I’m still trying to sort out how I feel about God. If he exists, I tend to think that my sheep hunt wouldn’t important enough that he would intervene to help. Nonetheless, everything worked out so perfectly that I couldn't help but at least wonder if I may have had a little help. I guess I'll never really know.
I’m nothing more than a middle class working stiff, but on that day, I felt like a rich man. Sometimes, we get way more than we deserve.
I slept the rest of the day away.
THE NUMBERS
Here are the stats, combined for both of the trips I took (all numbers approximate):
Here are the stats, combined for both of the trips I took (all numbers approximate):
- 2,900 miles driven
- 48 hours spent driving
- 20+ hours spent applying, researching, e-scouting, mapping routes, doing research, making calls, etc.
- 20 miles walked
- 1 ewe seen (thankfully, 1 is all it takes!)
- 2nd sheep harvest of my life
- $500 spent on gas
- $500 spent on accommodations
- $250 spent on food, supplies, equipment, etc.
- $1,250 spent on a nonresident sheep tag
- $720 spent on 8 years of nonresident licenses, application fees, point fees, etc. prior to drawing
- $160 spent on a euro mount
- 40 pounds of meat in the freezer
- $84.50 total cost per pound for the meat
- 12+ people who told me I was crazy to spend that kind of time, money, and effort on a ewe tag
- 0 ****s given about what they think
- 0 regrets
- Priceless memories
FINAL THOUGHTS
I still feel a little conflicted about this whole experience.
On the one hand, if I could go back, I’d have done so many things differently. I would have done much better research, and made fewer assumptions about access and sheep distribution. I would have tried harder to make it up there earlier in the year, before the snow hit. I would have taken the mud a lot more seriously. I’d have tried a lot harder to find a friend to bring with me, too.
On the other hand, having made it through ok, I don’t know that I’d really want to change a thing. Mistakes made are lessons learned. Besides that, the difficulty of the experience, and the way I fought through it, are big reasons why this adventure will stand out as one of my most epic and meaningful hunts to date.
I think a lot of the lessons to be learned from my experience are evident just by reading the story. The only other thing I feel like I should add is a strong recommendation to do what you can to make your hunting dreams come true. Even if they are a little bit silly or unconventional. I’ve honestly had very little support for my ewe hunting – most people just think it’s strange and unreasonably expensive. That’s ok. It’s meaningful to me, and that’s what matters.
Thanks for following, and best wishes to you all.
I still feel a little conflicted about this whole experience.
On the one hand, if I could go back, I’d have done so many things differently. I would have done much better research, and made fewer assumptions about access and sheep distribution. I would have tried harder to make it up there earlier in the year, before the snow hit. I would have taken the mud a lot more seriously. I’d have tried a lot harder to find a friend to bring with me, too.
On the other hand, having made it through ok, I don’t know that I’d really want to change a thing. Mistakes made are lessons learned. Besides that, the difficulty of the experience, and the way I fought through it, are big reasons why this adventure will stand out as one of my most epic and meaningful hunts to date.
I think a lot of the lessons to be learned from my experience are evident just by reading the story. The only other thing I feel like I should add is a strong recommendation to do what you can to make your hunting dreams come true. Even if they are a little bit silly or unconventional. I’ve honestly had very little support for my ewe hunting – most people just think it’s strange and unreasonably expensive. That’s ok. It’s meaningful to me, and that’s what matters.
Thanks for following, and best wishes to you all.
MTLabrador
Well-known member
Solid adventure in some great country. Congrats.
Hunting Wife
Well-known member
Any workout regimen for a Breaks hunt should include serious hip flexor strengthening just for lugging around all that extra mud on the boots 
Congratulations on your ewe. Glad it all worked out for you.
Congratulations on your ewe. Glad it all worked out for you.
elkrchr
Well-known member
Fantastic write-up of your Breaks adventure and congrats on getting it done the hard way!
littlebighorn
Well-known member
Is there such a thing as non-stick boot soles? They would be real handy in the Breaks.Any workout regimen for a Breaks hunt should include serious hip flexor strengthening just for lugging around all that extra mud on the boots
Congratulations on your ewe. Glad it all worked out for you.
Hawk Tuah
Well-known member
- Joined
- Apr 6, 2018
- Messages
- 1,600
Sometimes God does things in such a way that in the end, we know it was him.
Great job on a fine trophy.
WNC2500
Well-known member
God definitely exists and he blessed your hunt for sure. In his word, "Psalm 37: 4: Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart." Hunting the sheep has been one of the desires of your heart and you let him know when you prayed that morning.
We are all rich men/women any time we are able to be in God's creation. I have never been where you were to hunt sheep but I am amazed by God's handiwork and how beautiful that part of Montana is.
God also worked out the part with the landowners. They were a blessing to you for sure.
I will eventually hunt around that area if the draw ever works out that way. Northeastern and Central Montana are amazing even if they don't have the breaks. Hi-Line yes, but not the breaks.
Here it is! I got it back just in time for Christmas.
Turns out, her teeth grew in a little funky on the right side. Kind of interesting.
Based on the condition of her teeth, my taxidermist thinks she was roughly 6 - 7 years old.
I smile every time I walk by it.
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