jhm2023
WKR
I was fortunate enough to spend some time in the Wrangells with my wife, a friend and his son over the last week. It took us two days getting in with two days of hunting and another two to get out. 18 miles by atv, 8 by raft and 23 on foot. We indulged in some top notch grayling fishing between rafting and hiking with a 16"+ at almost every cast. We started the long hike through the rain working between the socked in mountains. Finally tired of being wet and not being able to see we set camp inside a willow thicket, removing just enough rocks to be able to sleep decently. Up early and with better weather we continued on, glassing up some ewes and lambs and a group of four rams on a distant mountain. While climbing on the four rams we spot a solitary ram on another mountain. He was perched up on a very small shelf that would have been impossible to reach because of the cliff fortress he decided to call home. After a blown stalk on the first four, my wife told us the other ram got up and went over the mountain. We decided that we would get back down to the creek and set camp. While setting camp we look up to see the ram perched on another nearly impossible to reach shelf just above us. Obviously very confident in the place he chose to lay down, he fell asleep while watching us with one horn holding his head up. After camp was set and water was filtered we broke out the spotters and watched him get up, shake off and meander further up and out of sight. We decide to go check for a way to get up to where he could have gone and start up the mountain with just our rifles. We make it about a half mile from camp and about half way up the mountain when he appears atop the cliffs looking at the valley below. I hurry to find a rock for a rest and get a range on him. 460 yards at a 30° angle. I put 4.5 minutes on the scope, hold for the wind and slowly squeeze. The report of the bullet striking a rock just over his back is louder than the suppresed shot of the rifle. The ram looks around confused about what happened and trotted off. Discouraged but knowing he is still close I wait him out. He shows his head a few more times to look around not offering a shot before he starts walking up a crack in the cliffs very close to where I had missed the first time. I hold for a little wind again and slowly squeeze. This time I'm rewarded with the distinct sound of a bullet making contact with an animals chest cavity quickly followed by the sight of white tumbling down the mountain. A steep climb to where I thought he stopped revealed he had fallen down a cliff I couldn't see and got banged up pretty good. Some quick pictures and knife work and we start down the steep scree with heavy packs by headlamp as the darkness takes over. This ram was 9 years old with worn down teeth and a skinny body, making me wonder if this could have been his last year on the mountain had I not gotten to him before the cold and snow of winter. Bags of meat hanging in the willows we retreat into our sleeping bags smelling of sheep for a good night of sleep. First thing in the morning we were up formulating a plan to stalk another ram for my friend's son to take, again successful.
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