Saturday morning found me and my brother at the mouth of the canyon glassing for the 5 rams. We looked for an hour or so and couldn't come up with them. My gut was telling me that the rams were still in that canyon, so we loaded up and started hiking. There is no easy way to hike up the west face of Hart Mountain. It's all steep, much of it loose. We just sucked it up and made our way to the top of the canyon.
Loaded up!
As it was getting towards midday, we found a spot to hang out in the shade to glass, refuel and wait.
Our view down the canyon.
About 1 1/2hours later, we hear some rocks rolling and my brother says "There they are!", pointing down the canyon. Indeed, about 500 yds down stood the 5 rams. They milled around for another hour, mostly out of sight, but then decided to go up the hill into a saddle above to bed down.
They eventually went down into the shade and out of sight. It was time to make a move so we made our way over and above where we last saw them and sat down. Other than hearing the occasional rock fall indicating the rams were still around, not much was happening. I waited a bit then moved down another 20 yards or so, taking nothing but my rifle. After a short wait, a ram jumped up on the rocks right in front of me! It was the big one!
The ram is just above the scope cover in the grassy patch.
The other rams joined him but I stayed focused on the one I wanted. He worked his way up around a small juniper and when he stepped out broadside, at all of 75 yards, the 7-08 barked. The report echoed off the canyon walls and the other rams scrambled to get out of dodge. Hearing the bullet strike, I watched the ram crumple and roll a couple times, coming to a stop in the rocks.
As he lay.
My brother went back for the packs and I went to my ram. Laying my hand on his neck, the emotions overwhelmed me a bit. I had never in a million years thought that I would have the chance to be a sheep hunter, but here I was, with my hands on a great ram.
We moved him up on top of the rock knob for photos then got to work.
That's a big ol cliff right behind us.
What a spectacular place to take a ram!
We had the packs loaded by 8pm, just in time to put on the headlamps. My brother, bless him, took all the meat in one load, while I took the the head and cape. We dropped down a rock chute which was not the best decision as it was super steep and loose. Going slow we made it out after a couple hours. Back at camp dad had dinner made and cold beers ready for us. I opened a nice bottle of bourbon (AH Hirsch 20 yo) I'd been saving for a special occasion and we all had a celebratory drink or 3!
I checked the ram in on Monday with ODFW (thank you John for coming in on a holiday). He pinned it and did the paperwork. My goal was a 160" ram, final rough score was just over 161" and 8 years old.
I have to give a big "thank you" to my brother, he sacrificed a fair bit of time and money to come help me. It was an amazing experience, one I'll never forget!
Loaded up!
As it was getting towards midday, we found a spot to hang out in the shade to glass, refuel and wait.
Our view down the canyon.
About 1 1/2hours later, we hear some rocks rolling and my brother says "There they are!", pointing down the canyon. Indeed, about 500 yds down stood the 5 rams. They milled around for another hour, mostly out of sight, but then decided to go up the hill into a saddle above to bed down.
They eventually went down into the shade and out of sight. It was time to make a move so we made our way over and above where we last saw them and sat down. Other than hearing the occasional rock fall indicating the rams were still around, not much was happening. I waited a bit then moved down another 20 yards or so, taking nothing but my rifle. After a short wait, a ram jumped up on the rocks right in front of me! It was the big one!
The ram is just above the scope cover in the grassy patch.
The other rams joined him but I stayed focused on the one I wanted. He worked his way up around a small juniper and when he stepped out broadside, at all of 75 yards, the 7-08 barked. The report echoed off the canyon walls and the other rams scrambled to get out of dodge. Hearing the bullet strike, I watched the ram crumple and roll a couple times, coming to a stop in the rocks.
As he lay.
My brother went back for the packs and I went to my ram. Laying my hand on his neck, the emotions overwhelmed me a bit. I had never in a million years thought that I would have the chance to be a sheep hunter, but here I was, with my hands on a great ram.
We moved him up on top of the rock knob for photos then got to work.
That's a big ol cliff right behind us.
What a spectacular place to take a ram!
We had the packs loaded by 8pm, just in time to put on the headlamps. My brother, bless him, took all the meat in one load, while I took the the head and cape. We dropped down a rock chute which was not the best decision as it was super steep and loose. Going slow we made it out after a couple hours. Back at camp dad had dinner made and cold beers ready for us. I opened a nice bottle of bourbon (AH Hirsch 20 yo) I'd been saving for a special occasion and we all had a celebratory drink or 3!
I checked the ram in on Monday with ODFW (thank you John for coming in on a holiday). He pinned it and did the paperwork. My goal was a 160" ram, final rough score was just over 161" and 8 years old.
I have to give a big "thank you" to my brother, he sacrificed a fair bit of time and money to come help me. It was an amazing experience, one I'll never forget!
