I sat on a small patch of open ground, surrounded by the yellow and red of early fall dwarf birch and willow, my elbows propped up on my knees and my eyes glued to the bino's and focused on the very tops of two sets of Dall horns. The only parts visible from 160 yards away. For 3 hours we had been steadily closing the distance on these two white sheep and now they were bedded but obscured by bush and downhill from us. One was legal, one was not.
I glanced over at Helen and watched as she slowly stood up behind a stunted spruce and used the tree limbs to help steady her rifle. The waiting started...
Helen has been trying to connect on a sheep for 5 seasons, first on BC Stones and now on Yukon Dalls. Each trip has its rewards and frustrations but despite some solid efforts a ram had eluded her. Would this be the year it all came together?
Our 2017 sheep hunt began on August 5th when a friend had a break in his busy air charter schedule and dropped us into a lake. Six frustrating days of temps in the low 80's, drying mud where there should have been water and long bushwhacking hikes from our only water source had us re-evaluate this attempt. The final straw was finding the band of rams we were after 3 miles across a valley and headed up a different mountain. Helen doesn't pack any "quit" on these hunts and only agreed to cut this trip short on the guarantee that we'd get out again when the weather cooled off.
Fast forward to September 1st. The gear was being loaded into the Cessna 206 and all was going well for the start of Sheep Hunt Part 2 until an ominous "crack" was heard. As the pilot picked up Helen's pack off the dock the carbon frame snapped just above the waist belt, rendering the pack useless.
A brief stunned silence was followed by Helen proclaiming "well, we might as well unload; we're not going anywhere today".
Our pilot suggested she shoot a quick video of how the pack was picked up and forward it to customer service. Once that was done we were off to town to try and find a last minute replacement pack so we could fly out the next day.
Whitehorse is not a big city, and there is not a plethora of high end outdoor stores to go pack shopping at. Two stores to be specific and the first yielded only packs that were geared towards hikers to which Hel's comments was "I'm not buying a girlie coloured pack to hunt with!"
Right...off to store number two.
The second place stocked a few Mystery Ranch packs. Things were looking up until we couldn't find one with a small enough frame to fit her properly. We opted for an "almost the right size" pack and hoped it would do. $700 later we were out the door and headed home to repack and try again the next day.
Walking through the front door with my Stone Glacier over my shoulder I had one of those "face palm" moments, my youngest son had a Stone Glacier Solo in the closet. Two years previous it had been given to him by a gentleman who had won it on a raffle at the Wild Sheep Society of BC convention. After a couple of adjustments the SG fit almost perfectly.
The next afternoon we banked right, banked left and gently touched down on a body of water, that if pressed, I could call a "lake". Thirty minutes later we were headed for the mountain tops and it wasn't long before I had a good sweat going, mainly due to my pre-hunt work out regime that consisted of getting out of the plane, putting on pack and hiking. Maybe next year I'd do some cardio before the season started...
The next 4 days were spent looking over various rams and late on the 4th day we spotted one with a distinctive purple/red stain on his front left side. It looked like he had been laying in huckleberry and cranberry bushes. With not enough light left to pursue him we returned to camp and decided to try and find him the next day.
And now we waited. Apparently the rams were enjoying full bellies and with the sun on their backs they were not inclined to get up. I put down my bino's and readjusted how I was sitting and when I looked back the bigger of the two rams was standing, facing downhill and broadside. In my peripheral vision I could see Hel standing, rifle pointing towards the sheep. I knew a shot was imminent. The ram stood still for what seemed like minutes, but which was really about 20-30 seconds. No shot came from Hel's rifle.
The smaller ram stood and walked behind a small group of spruce trees and the large one quickly followed. Helen's opportunity disappeared with them.
I asked her why she didn't shoot the ram and she replied that it was the smaller ram... it wasn't the right sheep. I told her about the big one standing there forever. She had been so focused on the one ram that she hadn't seen the other stand. A brief, whispered but 'lively', discussion ensued as to why I hadn't told her about the standing ram. The look on her face said 'not another year'.
The rams had moved off with no real purpose other than finding more food. I said to Hel "if you want a chance we have to move on them now, ready?" She nodded we headed down the hill after them.
About every 20-30 yards small pockets of spruce trees provided just enough cover to quickly move from one to the next, pausing behind each clump to glass ahead for the sheep. There was a stiff breeze that helped muffle some of the noise we made as we quickly pushed through the birch. A minute or so later I spotted a flash of white and spotted a ram walking out of a willow into an opening. He was about 80 yards out. I put my bino's up and quickly saw it was the small one.
"Is that the one?" Hel whispered.
"No, but the other one is probably there too" I whispered back.
Hel checked her rifle; safety off, good to go.
I caught another flash of white and the second ram walked into the clearing and stood feeding.
I looked at Hel and said "Shoot the close one!"
"Are you sure?" She replied.
"Yes! Shoot the close one!"
I looked back towards the sheep and barely got my binoculars up and one hand to my left ear when she dropped the hammer and the ram collapsed in his tracks. He was 45 yards out.
The look on her face when she realized she'd finally taken a ram was indescribable and made every sore muscle and drop of sweat worth it.
For 5 years Helen had packed a muzzleloader while hunting. She's taken whitetail, mule deer, bears and mountain goats with it but never a sheep. After the last year she decided that until she got her first ram she wanted a rifle that didn't weight over 10 pounds, especially for mountain hunting. So when Christmas 2016 arrived so did a Sako Finnlight in 7-08 (apparently I can take a hint!). Next year I will have to subtly remind her that its pumpkin slinging time again.
I'll carry the Sako...
RC
I glanced over at Helen and watched as she slowly stood up behind a stunted spruce and used the tree limbs to help steady her rifle. The waiting started...
Helen has been trying to connect on a sheep for 5 seasons, first on BC Stones and now on Yukon Dalls. Each trip has its rewards and frustrations but despite some solid efforts a ram had eluded her. Would this be the year it all came together?
Our 2017 sheep hunt began on August 5th when a friend had a break in his busy air charter schedule and dropped us into a lake. Six frustrating days of temps in the low 80's, drying mud where there should have been water and long bushwhacking hikes from our only water source had us re-evaluate this attempt. The final straw was finding the band of rams we were after 3 miles across a valley and headed up a different mountain. Helen doesn't pack any "quit" on these hunts and only agreed to cut this trip short on the guarantee that we'd get out again when the weather cooled off.
Fast forward to September 1st. The gear was being loaded into the Cessna 206 and all was going well for the start of Sheep Hunt Part 2 until an ominous "crack" was heard. As the pilot picked up Helen's pack off the dock the carbon frame snapped just above the waist belt, rendering the pack useless.
A brief stunned silence was followed by Helen proclaiming "well, we might as well unload; we're not going anywhere today".
Our pilot suggested she shoot a quick video of how the pack was picked up and forward it to customer service. Once that was done we were off to town to try and find a last minute replacement pack so we could fly out the next day.
Whitehorse is not a big city, and there is not a plethora of high end outdoor stores to go pack shopping at. Two stores to be specific and the first yielded only packs that were geared towards hikers to which Hel's comments was "I'm not buying a girlie coloured pack to hunt with!"
Right...off to store number two.
The second place stocked a few Mystery Ranch packs. Things were looking up until we couldn't find one with a small enough frame to fit her properly. We opted for an "almost the right size" pack and hoped it would do. $700 later we were out the door and headed home to repack and try again the next day.
Walking through the front door with my Stone Glacier over my shoulder I had one of those "face palm" moments, my youngest son had a Stone Glacier Solo in the closet. Two years previous it had been given to him by a gentleman who had won it on a raffle at the Wild Sheep Society of BC convention. After a couple of adjustments the SG fit almost perfectly.
The next afternoon we banked right, banked left and gently touched down on a body of water, that if pressed, I could call a "lake". Thirty minutes later we were headed for the mountain tops and it wasn't long before I had a good sweat going, mainly due to my pre-hunt work out regime that consisted of getting out of the plane, putting on pack and hiking. Maybe next year I'd do some cardio before the season started...
The next 4 days were spent looking over various rams and late on the 4th day we spotted one with a distinctive purple/red stain on his front left side. It looked like he had been laying in huckleberry and cranberry bushes. With not enough light left to pursue him we returned to camp and decided to try and find him the next day.
And now we waited. Apparently the rams were enjoying full bellies and with the sun on their backs they were not inclined to get up. I put down my bino's and readjusted how I was sitting and when I looked back the bigger of the two rams was standing, facing downhill and broadside. In my peripheral vision I could see Hel standing, rifle pointing towards the sheep. I knew a shot was imminent. The ram stood still for what seemed like minutes, but which was really about 20-30 seconds. No shot came from Hel's rifle.
The smaller ram stood and walked behind a small group of spruce trees and the large one quickly followed. Helen's opportunity disappeared with them.
I asked her why she didn't shoot the ram and she replied that it was the smaller ram... it wasn't the right sheep. I told her about the big one standing there forever. She had been so focused on the one ram that she hadn't seen the other stand. A brief, whispered but 'lively', discussion ensued as to why I hadn't told her about the standing ram. The look on her face said 'not another year'.
The rams had moved off with no real purpose other than finding more food. I said to Hel "if you want a chance we have to move on them now, ready?" She nodded we headed down the hill after them.
About every 20-30 yards small pockets of spruce trees provided just enough cover to quickly move from one to the next, pausing behind each clump to glass ahead for the sheep. There was a stiff breeze that helped muffle some of the noise we made as we quickly pushed through the birch. A minute or so later I spotted a flash of white and spotted a ram walking out of a willow into an opening. He was about 80 yards out. I put my bino's up and quickly saw it was the small one.
"Is that the one?" Hel whispered.
"No, but the other one is probably there too" I whispered back.
Hel checked her rifle; safety off, good to go.
I caught another flash of white and the second ram walked into the clearing and stood feeding.
I looked at Hel and said "Shoot the close one!"
"Are you sure?" She replied.
"Yes! Shoot the close one!"
I looked back towards the sheep and barely got my binoculars up and one hand to my left ear when she dropped the hammer and the ram collapsed in his tracks. He was 45 yards out.
The look on her face when she realized she'd finally taken a ram was indescribable and made every sore muscle and drop of sweat worth it.
For 5 years Helen had packed a muzzleloader while hunting. She's taken whitetail, mule deer, bears and mountain goats with it but never a sheep. After the last year she decided that until she got her first ram she wanted a rifle that didn't weight over 10 pounds, especially for mountain hunting. So when Christmas 2016 arrived so did a Sako Finnlight in 7-08 (apparently I can take a hint!). Next year I will have to subtly remind her that its pumpkin slinging time again.
I'll carry the Sako...
RC
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