Friday, November 6, 2009
Couple Rams from 27-1
I saw some pics floating the web of some rams taken via raft this fall ... I'd love to hear from the shooters.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
NATE's HUNT ... 09 ...
Bighorn Sheep Hunting Diary
Nate Wiese
Nate Wiese
I found out in May of 2009 that I had drawn a bighorn sheep permit for the Middle Fork of the Salmon River in unit 27-1 starting August 30th. The drawing odds for this unit are relatively good (20%), but the success rates are dismal (0 for 12 in 2008). I knew it was going to be a tough and exciting hunt. Unit 27-1 falls almost completely within the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness = No road access. The only access is by a few trails in the northwestern side of the unit, whitewater rafting the Middle Fork of the Salmon River, or several backcountry airstrips. After drawing the tag, I spent the next 100 days in “sheep training”. Each morning before work I would go jogging or hike with my hunting pack until I was either jogging 4 miles or packing 100 pounds for 3 miles.
Of course, there was all sorts of other gear that I “needed” to get a ram; A new rangefinder, countless 30-06 bullets, a shooting bench, new sleeping bag and bivouac, spotting scope and binos, and USGS topo maps, made the list.
I spent some time talking to the sheep hunting experts in the Middle Fork. They gave me some good leads to check out. In July I took a week off of work and my youngest brother, Galen, and I hiked into the [deleted] edge of the unit. We backpacked in nearly 25 miles before Galen started getting heat stroke symptoms and we decided to abandon the trip after day 3. It took us two days to get back out. I found several areas that had some sheep sign during the scouting trip, but never saw any bighorns.
Since the [deleted] edge of the unit didn’t look that great, I decided to gamble on flying into the [deleted] edge of the unit for my hunt. I booked a backcountry flight from Middle Fork Aviation to drop my other brother, Will, and I off for 12 days at [deleted] airstrip. We would hike downstream towards [deleted] from there and glass for bighorns.
I was a little apprehensive about backpack hunting since I had never actually been on a backpacking trip. However, Will has been on numerous trips and Amber (my wife) and my mom convinced me to spend the $9/day for a satellite phone rental in case we got in trouble.
We needed to keep our packs as light as possible. For food, our main staple would be military issue MRE’s. To cut some weight I re-packed the MRE’s minus the extra condiments, packaging, etc. Seven MRE’s each still weighed in at almost 9 pounds. To supplement our MRE’s I also packed seven “snack packs” that included Logan Bread (A strange hippie backpacking concoction of every whole grain health food imaginable stuck together with molasses and honey – Google it), Power bars, trail mix, dried apple and mango chips, homemade moose jerky, some hard candy, and a Emergen-C vitamin packet. The snack packs weighed in at around 1 pound each. Each food pack was completed with a package of bagels (6) and one jar of peanut butter. The total food weight was around 18 pounds. We also had additional MRE’s and camp food stashed in some base camp supplies that wouldn’t be in the backpacks.
I decided against purifying water by pumping and instead used iodine. I got a survival book for Christmas two years ago that suggested using 2% tincture of Iodine at 5 drops per quart for 30 minutes. Tincture of Iodine is about $2 a bottle at Walgreens and has an almost indefinite shelf life. It also tastes terrible for the first few days until you get used to it, but not everything is heaven in the backcountry!
Day 0 – Thursday August 27
I met Will in Arco and we dropped his truck off at a friend’s house. We jumped in my truck and continued on to Challis. We drove into town and found the airport in short order. Our flight would be the next morning at 7:30 am. We decided to have a “last supper” at the Village Inn – a burger and a beer. I didn’t know how much I would miss that dinner!
At our final supper, Will realized he had forgotten his watch. We questioned our waiter for a spot to buy one – at 9 pm he only knew of one gas station open. They didn’t have a watch, but Will was able to buy a travel alarm clock – it would have to do. I admired the flea ridden bighorn sheep mount on the wall of the gas station – we must be in the right spot!
After the alarm clock purchase, we looked for a spot to crash for the night. No sense spending $50 on a motel, we found a gravel road, parked the truck, threw out the sleeping bags and slept in a turn-around fishing access for the Salmon River.
Will woke up with a sleeping bag full of ants. I was more fortunate, I only had a backache from the gravel!
Day 1
We arrived at Middle Fork Aviation around 7 am. The pilot arrived shortly after. We wandered over and he looked at us with a puzzled look.
“Where you going?” He asked.
“Flying with you.” I replied.
“Not with me, I’m the only flight out of here today and it’s with this guy”, he pointed to grizzled ranch hand unloading a strange assortment of gear from his car.
After some discussion we finally got Bob to look at the books in the office. Sure enough, we were on the list to fly out at 7:30 am with the owner, Pete Nelson. Whew, that was a relief. I had been a little concerned booking the flight a month and a half in advance.
Pete showed up promptly at 7:30 and we helped him pull the Cessna out of the hangar.
“So you’re going bighorn sheep hunting?” Pete asked.
“Sure enough, 12 days backpacking in after them.” I replied.
“This is all your gear?” Pete asked quizzically?
“Yep, got to carry most of it on our backs.” I replied back.
“Got a satellite phone?” Pete questioned.
“Yep, do you need the number?”
“Nope, just call me when you need a lift out.” Pete responded.
Not exactly the vote of confidence I was looking for. Pete didn’t think we’d even make it the full trip! The plane took off surprisingly smoothly from the airstrip in Challis. We chatted on the way. Pete had flown in several sheep hunters in this area over the years. He claimed that just finding the sheep was a huge problem. Even the hunters spending thousands of dollars on outfitters and guides had come back without even a sighting!
The flight went faster than I expected – only about 20 minutes.
“There it is.” Pete said.
I looked down and didn’t see anything but mountains and a river. Pete brought the plane around and I finally saw a windsock over what looked like a horse pasture.
“Only 680 feet, the second toughest landing strip in here.” Pete muttered.
“Great”, I thought. Where was that information in the guide book? The landing was incredibly smooth, the little plane hugged the uneven horse pasture and came to a halt just before a barbed-wire fence. Some color started to return to my knuckles as we stepped out.
“Alright, I gotta go, more runs to make.” Pete said. “Remember, just give me a call when you want out.”
We waved our goodbyes and picked up our gear. [deleted] Our plan was to stash some base gear (tent, extra food, clothes, boots, etc.) in case of bad weather or if we ran out of food. We found a spot [deleted] to stash our gear, punched in a GPS waypoint and set-off down the Middle Fork trail.
We needed to find a spot to ford the river to get into the hunting unit. I had brought a “raft” (A $20 kids toy from Wal-mart), to help with the crossing. We found a wide spot in the river near [deleted] Creek and scoped out our options. A small rock island protruded in the middle of the river. We slipped on sandals and were able to wade to the island with our packs. However, the river got significantly deeper and swifter after the island. It looked like wading with our packs would be risky.
I shed my pack and tried to ford the remaining channel. I made it with only couple of close calls through the waist-deep water, but there was no way I could make it with a fully loaded pack. Will was balanced on the rock island holding my pack from getting wet.
“What now?” Will asked.
“The raft, of course.” I replied.
Will’s eyes rolled. He didn’t look very confident. We blew up the raft and I jumped in to try paddling across. I didn’t make 15 feet before I knew I would be in trouble. The river was too swift, and my kiddie paddles were not going to cut whitewater! Time for Plan B.
Luckily, I was still in relatively shallow water when I abandoned Plan A. I drug the raft back.
“We’ll tie the packs in and drag them across.” I told Will. He agreed reluctantly. It was a bit of gamble. If we lost the packs, we also lost all of our gear including the Satellite phone to call old Pete to get us out of this mess.
We tied in the packs and Will held the raft while I peeled out line on my trek across the river. I made the other bank again without getting swept off my feet. Halfway to success! I tightened the slack out of the line to the raft and hollered to Will to cut it loose. Amazingly, the raft easily glided across the swift water and was safely onto the bank in short order. As if I ever had a doubt…..
Will picked his way across and we deflated and re-packed the boat. We reached [deleted] Creek, stashed the boating supplies and started up the canyon. The drainage looked good, but there wasn’t a trail up the bottom. We picked and hacked for 3 hours up the creek to make a mile and a half. We stumbled into a rattlesnake and found and old ram’s skull. Must be the right place!
By 4 pm we decided we needed to get higher ground to have some viewing for the evening. The weather was warm, probably high 80’s. I knew we would need as much water as possible, so we filled everything we had and came up with 4 gallons. At 8.5 pounds per gallon, it was another 17 pounds to each pack! Ughh. The pack weights were well over 70 pounds at that point.
The trudge up was grueling. The weather was scorching, the packs were brutally heavy, and the scree rock was one step up and slide back two steps back. We made the top of the ridge 1700 feet above the bottom at 7:00 pm.
The night of glassing produced a cow elk sighting. Better than nothing, but not a bighorn. We stretched out our sleeping bags on the only flat spot available – on the peak. They don’t call this area rugged for nothing!
The rest of this diary was transcribed from notes written on the back of my map.
Day 2
The weather was nice this morning, cooler but the clouds are breaking up. Could be a smoker again today. We glassed all day and came up with nothing. I found a really nice 6-point elk shed. Neat, but I’m not going to pack it out – yesterday was brutal!
Will tried to get us a grouse for dinner, but his aim with the rocks is a little off. Good thing – he forgot that the grouse season doesn’t open until tomorrow! Will did find a better camp site up the ridge, maybe we’ll head there sometime.
The weather is starting to cloud up on the horizon this evening. Some clouds and lightning in the distance…
Day 3
The rain started at 9:30 last night. At 12:30 am, I thought we were going to be struck by lightning. It was everywhere!
Good glassing/camping spots don’t mix. We were on the peak of the ridge, camped under the only two trees growing there! At 3:30 am the rain really started pelting down and a huge burst of wind pulled our tarp stakes! We struggled for 5 minutes in the downpour and wind to yank the rest of the tarp ties and secure it around a tree. I shivered the rest of the night until the rain stopped at 6:30 am. Will’s bivy leaked like a sieve – his bag is soaked. Some water seeped in the zipper of my bivy and pooled in the bottom. Cold, wet toes, but I’m otherwise dry.
We hung our gear at the camp and headed down to [deleted] Creek for water. I found another elk shed on the way down. We made it to the creek with barely a drop of water left. We filled up 2 gallons each again and headed back up.
Decided to detour up the creek and found a great looking fork called [deleted] at noon. There is sheep or deer sign everywhere. Our identification is a little shaky. The rain started at 12:30 pm. We slipped out of [deleted] and kept heading up [deleted] creek expecting to see a bear at anytime. There was sign everywhere. But, no bears or sheep appeared, just more rain.
The hike up was brutal, but we finally made it to the top and found Will’s campsite. It is a beautiful grassy knoll shaded by Pine trees and littered with elk sign. We stopped long enough to unload our water supplies and kept moving. We were both soaked and shivering and the rain just kept coming down.
We picked our way down the ridge for 45 minutes to our first camp. Everything we had hung to dry was drenched. I swear my pack still went 70 pounds without water!
The hike back up was slow and exhausting. We finally stopped for a break and shed our packs after over an hour of trudging. When we started again we realized we had only stopped 75 yards short of the new camp – Hallelujah!
I worked on building a fire – Will got our tarp re-set. This camp set-up is night and day better than the last! Ahh, finally some comfort of a warm fire – we kicked off our wet gear and ate MRE’s. Spaghetti for me and salsa chicken for Will – Heaven!
The rain stopped by 6:30 pm and I headed up to glass wearing sandals. My hiking shoes are still soaked. Nice hike, but nothing happening. First day of the hunting season – a complete bust!
Day 4
What a long night! Sleeping in wet bags is horrible. I thought Will was going into hypothermia – his bag was trembling all night.
I forced myself out of the sleeping bag at 6:00 am. The fog was so thick I could barely see across camp! I side-hilled around the canyon (in my sandals again) hoping to catch something. No luck. I knew my feet were cold, but it is above freezing – I shouldn’t be get frost bite.
Between the fog rolling in and out of the canyon I spotted a deer or bighorn sheep in [deleted]. I couldn’t tell in the fog. Whatever it was, it was having quite the time across the canyon jumping and back kicking. Maybe it was a sun dance!
Headed back to camp at 10 am. Jumped more grouse, we would be eating well with a shotgun. I ate a bagel and peanut butter; need to ration some food or the last few days will be really hungry. Shouldn’t matter if I can bag a sheep before then!
I spent two hours drying boots and gear at camp while the fog continued to hang in the canyons. The ridge tops are hit or miss, but the bottom won’t clear out. I sure hope the sun comes out today.
Things cleared out this afternoon. We headed down the ridge to glass and spotted a black bear working in [deleted]. Couldn’t convince Will we should go after it so he could pack it out. Maybe after we score on a sheep. We split up in the evening, I glassed [deleted] and Will glassed [deleted] Creek. I didn’t see squat all evening, but Will spotted a Mountain Goat in Boo-boo canyon. Nice sighting, wish we had one of those tags….
The night is turning clear and crisp. I snapped a coupled pics of the moonrise; I ‘m afraid they’ll look more like a sunrise. Wow, is the moon ever bright up here!
Day 5 – Amber’s Birthday!
Maybe it will be my lucky day, too! I spotted “Billy” and “Boo-boo” almost immediately this morning. Still can’t convince Will we could eat a whole bear in a week!
About 8:00 am something flashed through the binoculars. Could it be? It took another 10 minutes of searching with the spotting scope and sure enough – 3 bighorn rams! I could feel my pulse quicken even though they were well over a half mile away.
Unfortunately, all three were “sickle” horns, small ½ curl rams that were 2 to 3 years old; not quite big enough to pursue, but exciting anyhow. The three small rams were right where we expected in [deleted]. Guess that was sheep sign we saw on Day 3.
I glassed the three rams for almost an hour and a half before I lost them behind a small rock outcropping. I’m guessing they bedded down there for the day. We’ll see if their big brother comes out tonight. Will radioed at 11am to say he had spotted a sow bear with two cubs. What a morning!
I bailed at noon. Underestimated my water supply in the pack. We’ll have to go back down tomorrow for another water run. Will is headed up to [deleted] Lookout; at [deleted] feet he should be able to see some country from there. I left Amber a happy birthday voicemail with the Satellite phone. I’m headed out to look at [deleted] ridge as soon as the rest of my gear dries.
[deleted] ridge was a bust. Hiked down three miles and glassed for an hour. The hike back was long and up! Did the last hour with the headlamp. Will also went bust at [deleted] lookout. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. The morning was sure good!
Day 6
We went bust glassing this morning, but we did scout out a new campsite. Spent the mid-morning moving the camp down; closer to water, and a better view of [deleted]. I broke into another MRE today. The last couple of days have been brutal on rations; I’ve been dreaming of food.
We hiked down for water at noon and narrowly missed a buzzworm (rattlesnake) on the slide down the scree. Will took a pic – it was the biggest rattlesnake I’ve ever seen in the wild. Will also found a nice deer shed.
The hike for water was only a ½ mile long, but 1500 feet of elevation loss. Not quite a 450 angle, but close! Will is going to hike back up to glass for the evening. I’m going to stay low and try to catch the three rams from yesterday morning coming down for water.
UGHHH!!!!!! I just blew a herd of sheep out of [deleted]. I keep replaying it in my head, thinking I could have gotten a shot off, but I really never had an ethical shot to take. I was trying to work up to decent vantage point to overlook the headwater of the creek in [deleted]. In fact, the water was only a few hundred yards up the canyon. I had been poking around slowly for the better part of an hour. Partly because I didn’t want to spook anything and partly because I was so tired!
I stopped to eat lunch for 20 minutes and then started up to a better looking vantage point about 30 yards further up the canyon. I had just gotten to the small rock outcropping when I heard some rock falling below me…
I immediately saw the band of sheep running the dry creek bed below me. I threw off my pack and unstrapped the rifle. I knew that the dry creek bed was at 250 yards because I had shot it with the rangefinder at lunch. As soon as I saw the herd, they cut up the opposite canyon face.
I got the rifle steadied on the rock outcropping and trained on the herd. Sure enough, the lead sheep was a ram – and a granddaddy at that. The herd was running directly away from me, so I never had a side view, but his horns curled seemingly endlessly to the sides. It looked more like a Texas longhorn running up the scree pile across from me than a bighorn sheep.
Behind granddaddy ram, the three sickle horns and six or seven ewes finished out the band. The group was making climbing the canyon look easy, but they weren’t gaining much ground away from my position because it was so steep. 275, 300, 325, 350 yards…still going….
STOP! STOP!!! STOP!!!! I was screaming in my head, just pause, turn, anything so I can get a shot, but that old ram never did; just kept running until he disappeared into the timber at 500 yards.
I could have tried a running shot, but I was never looking at anything besides his tail. Plus I would have risked only wounding the ram, or worse, hitting the wrong animal. Not shooting was the ethical choice….
Still, I’m heartbroken. All summer running and training, 5 days of scouting, 6 days of camping on this mountain, and one chance of lifetime – gone………..
3 hours later…….
Okay, I’ve almost regained my composure. Will convinced me that the band is bound to work their way back into this fork – or another group may still be in this canyon. Ahh, Will, the forever optimist. I have almost convinced myself that something else spooked them. It was strange the direction they took and that they never stopped to look back. These sheep can’t see that many people, this canyon is not that easy to get too!
It’s a nice day. I kicked off my shoes to let my socks dry from the afternoon sweat. Broke out the long sleeve camo shirt – a clean shirt after 6 days is awesome! I’ve got a great perch about 175 yards above the creek bottom. I built a shooting bench in front of me out of rocks. The rifle is propped and ready. Just a waiting game now.
I spent an hour after the sheep encounter trying to dry the fog out of the scope. It must have gotten wet during Saturday’s rain. Funny, I never noticed while I was following the sheep with it.
The ants are starting to drive me crazy. I must be sitting on an ant hell (hill) – it gives a new meaning to phrase “ants in the pants”!
I just finished my MRE for the night (5:30 pm) – I hope it gives me enough energy to get up the 1500 foot climb back to camp. Will’s already radioed with horror stories of the climb up. He stopped short to wait for the sun to go down. The MRE was a beef enchilada and refried beans topped with Picante sauce. I must be on the verge of starvation because it was the best enchilada I’ve ever eaten – and I never even bothered to heat it up! We’ll, I’d better get back to scanning for sheep. I’ve got my fingers crossed that they’ll return. Ugh, just found tick, guess it’s not all ants crawling up my pants!
Day 7
The walk back to camp last night was brutal. I stumbled down the creek in the dark, flashing the head lamp beam between finding footing in the scree and scanning for bears. I thought the creek was rough until I started back up the ½ mile by 1500 feet. The loose scree meant one step up and only to slide back from all of the gain. I made it to camp until just shy of 11 pm.
We glassed this morning from below camp – nice spot, but nothing moving. I packed all of my gear to bail off into the bottom. We are going to split up – Will stays high to glass, I’ll try to catch the herd coming down to water or get directions from Will if he spots something.
Will is in a spotting slump, he’s spotted a bear and two cubs and a mountain goat in 7 days of glassing. I figure he’s just due. We’ll see…..outta of paper - gotta pull another map out of the pack…
Whew! What I rush. I bailed off the scree pile down to the bottom and decided to check on [deleted]. That’s where I saw the herd headed yesterday. I drug, scrambled, and picked my way up [deleted] almost a half mile by 2 pm; no land speed records in here.
Just after I talked to Will on the radio (he was off to take a nap), I jumped a bear out of the creek bottom. It was a nice chocolate colored black bear and I was debating on unstrapping the rifle when I realized why she had stopped at 75 yards; a cute little black fuzz ball came scurrying up behind her. Neat!
I took off my pack and snapped a couple of pictures, before I realized what was going on; Mom and baby bear were looking for their other sibling. Just then I heard some scurrying in the brush below me – guess who…
A little chocolate fuzz-ball looked up at me at 10 feet and immediately started bellowing, “Mom, Save me”.
“Oh Shit!!”
I threw on my pack and started up the mountainsides as fast as I could. Unfortunately, my overstuffed black pack either looked like a mama bear or my 7 days without a shower had given me the smell of a mama bear. In either case, baby boo-boo was hot on my heels bellowing “Wait for me”.
I got to a reasonably defendable outcropping and turned to face my tormentor. I had lost track of mama bear in my scramble and I was getting more uneasy by the minute. Baby boo-boo stood on his haunches and balled. I yelled “Go home”, “Go away”. Apparently in baby boo-boo language this meant come closer, faster.
I picked up a rock and hurled it at the cub. The rock sailed harmlessly over his head. The next was on track for a direct hit until he stopped and dodged it. Baby boo-boo’s crying started to intensify and his pace was quickening – throwing rocks was not working. He was convinced I was his mother!
I turned back up the mountain. Surely I could outpace this little cub, but for his little size, that cub was a track star. The faster I went, the louder he wailed and the faster he scurried. Finally after 10 minutes of scampering, I finally got out of sight.
Whew, I sat down and un-slung my rifle – just in case. The little cub was now squalling even louder and longer, but safely below me. My labored breathing just about covered his wails, but wait, no it couldn’t be….the wails were coming closer. Sure enough, up popped two little ears 30 yards away and suddenly and ecstatic cub found his mother again.
My only option was up the mountain further. My last visual of the mother had been on the opposite side of the canyon, but she could be working back around to her wailing baby. My calves ached and my lungs burned, but I kept scrambling up that mountainside. I didn’t stop until I was nearly even with our glassing spot from the morning.
From my high perch, I finally spotted momma bear again racing down a scree pile on the opposite side. Wow, that was close! The little cub stopped his wailing and followed his real mother and brother up the canyon. However, just before they rounded the bend he let out a couple more howls. No doubt telling his new found mother that she should come along as well. Always an adventure!
Day 8
I made it out of bear canyon yesterday afternoon without further incident and bushwhacked 3 hours back up to [deleted]. Made it just before 7 pm. The rest of the night was uneventful; Will glassed three elk, but nothing else. At least his slump is easing. My camping spot was less than ideal. Sleeping on scree rock is not exactly Serta-comfort. I managed to hack apart the only bush on the side-hill to help ease the jagged rock back massage and got a few hours of sleep.
I eased back into my look-out at 6:30 am for the day’s vigil. Will called at 7:30 am to say he’d spotted the crazy brown cub and family in [deleted]. Nothing else is on the move.
At 11 am Will decided to work back up to [deleted] lookout. Eventually he’ll work around to my side and try a last ditch push down the canyon to try to blow any remaining sheep down my way. My confidence is beginning to slip in the wait them out plan. But, everything can change in a hurry.
I hung out the Old Man’s medicine/Shaman/Indian good luck charm to try to change our luck. It smells a lot like tobacco and strangely appetizing. I’m so sick of eating Logan bread, I’m tempted to say the hell with good luck charms and see if it is edible. I’ll hold out for now, but I’m starting to become concerned that this thing may attract the attention of a giant cat (mountain lion), that’s just what I need sneaking in behind me!
Our hunting is starting to slip into the desperation mode out here, but I still think today could be the day. I’m only 50 yards from the creek bottom; should be a chip shot (knock on wood) if they try to make a move for water. More later….
Day 9
Not much else happened last night. A lot more staring, listening to pygmy rabbits calling back and forth to each other, and hourly checks with Will on the radio. Will didn’t see anything either.
I hiked down to the creek after dark to refuel on water and wash my clothes out. I haven’t washed them since we got drenched back on Sunday and they were starting to stand up on their own.
It was a little eerie being down in the creek. I was surrounded by alders and couldn’t see 10 feet in any direction. I kept an eye peered for the bear that was certain to jump me at any moment. Too many days in the bush – I’m starting to get paranoid!
After laundry duty, I decided to distance myself from the bear infested creek. I found an un-level, rocky perch to lay-out my sleeping pad. Enough said – it was a long night!
Ohh, I almost forgot. Yesterday I decided to eat a full ration – yippee! Unfortunately, my MRE did not live up to the beef enchilada expectations. It was pita wraps with tuna and light mayo. What surgeon general decided Marines should be eating “light mayo”? The stuff tasted terrible and didn’t have any calories to boot – as if I need diet food out here!
I woke up at dawn and found a nice perch overlooking the confluence of [deleted] and [deleted]. Looked good, but after four hours I had only spotted chipmunk. Radioed Will at 10 am to try something new. I’ll hike halfway up [deleted] and then he’ll work down on the opposite side.
It’s 1:00 pm and I haven’t heard anything on the radio – Will must still be picking along. I’d like to hear some tumbling scree in front of a herd of rams. Time will tell, better get back to watching.
It’s 2:00 pm, I just spotted Will across the canyon. I think he’s looking for me or he’s just lost his mind. He must not have his radio on because I can’t get him on it. Nothing jumped on the whole push.
I decided to saddle my pack and head across the canyon to Will. He finally heard some rock rolling and called me on the radio. We agreed on a meeting spot and I continued to pick my way over. I stumbled onto a sheep carcass in the bottom of the canyon. Looked like an ewe, but it was hard to tell, probably from earlier in the summer.
There was a plethora of sheep sign on the opposite side of the canyon. The band had definitely been hanging here for most of the summer. Just below the top I came across a bedding area that still reeked of sheep and wet urine stains dotted the ground. The smell was almost like elk, but even stronger. Apparently I hadn’t pushed them completely out of the canyon.
I meet up with Will about 3:30 pm. He looked completely beat. I guess two days of solid hiking will sap out some energy – especially on our rations. We surveyed our water supply and I volunteered to go down solo to retrieve some more water (what a good older bro!). On my way down I found a matched set of mule deer shed antlers lying within 3 feet of each other. Now, I just need to convince Will to pack them out….
The water run was actually the shortest yet; I was down and back up in a little more than an hour. I had stumbled across and old trail that made the hike substantially easier.
Once I arrived back up on the ridge we hiked upwards along the top edge being careful not to become sky-lined into [deleted]. An afternoon hailstorm caught us off-guard and we dove under the tarp for cover. It wasn’t roomy, but dry. After eating an MRE each, we decided to split up again. I would continue up the ridge still-hunting as Will glassed from our new camp (the hailstorm tarp).
I picked my way along the ridge-top and saw nothing. With 30 minutes of light remaining, I found a good looking vantage point just in time to see Momma Boo-boo and her brown and black cubs walking up the other side. I’m glad they haven’t found one of our camps yet. Will also saw the bears, but nothing else.
Day 10
Wow, the weather and hunting outlook can change in a hurry. The wind blew hard most of the night and the weather cooled substantially. I still hunted up from camp again and Will stayed and glassed. I was really running out of confidence fast. I stopped just before the top to choke down a piece of Logan bread. I smeared it with so much peanut butter it was all I could taste. Funny, the stuff didn’t seem that bad at the beginning of the trip.
After my breakfast break, I stumbled across fresh sheep tracks. Here we go! However, after poking around the vicinity for two hours, I gave up and continued along the ridgeline. I peeked into [deleted] Creek and saw 7 elk feeding along. I thought they might have been sheep until I looked through the binoculars.
At 11am, I had been hiking for 5 hours and Will was bored out of his mind. We decided on a “squeeze” play. We would both come down the [deleted] from opposite sides. We met up at 1 pm with nothing to show for our effort.
We decided to pick our way out of [deleted] creek and back to the river crossing raft so we could explore the Middle Fork trail on the last day. We hadn’t hiked very far when I heard something in the bushes in front of us.
“Bear!” I hissed to Will as I shed my pack and loaded the rifle. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a black head appeared in the bushes 75 yards across from us. As the bear ambled our way, I steadied the rifle, fully intending to fill my bear tag and make our packs substantially heavier.
Just before I squeezed the trigger, another smaller black head popped out; another mother with cubs. I eased off the rifle and Will snapped a few pictures as they ambled up the canyon. That was the third sow with cubs we had spotted during the trip. [deleted]
We continued down [deleted] until we hit [deleted] Creek.
“Remember how tough this stretch was.” Will smirked.
“I think we were still green”, I replied.
I might have been right for the first mile of [deleted] Creek, we clipped along at a good pace skirting the brush choked creek on faint trails side-hilling across the scree. However, Will’s memory was correct on the final mile and a half to the river. We jumped a herd of elk and small bull and stopped for lunch at 4 pm.
After the elk sighting, the trails disappeared. We spent 3 hours bushwhacking the remaining mile to the river. I toppled down a log caught a break when my pack entangled in the nearby bushes, otherwise I would have been soaked! Will took a couple small tumbles on the scree. Every step was agonizingly slow, not sure if the rocks would hold or if another rattle snake would appear. We jumped two in the last mile.
Just before the river we found two more sheep kills. Both looked like lambs from sometime earlier in the summer. We finally made the river at 7 pm and headed for the crossing spot.
“Look at this.” I pointed to Will. Fresh sheep tracks in the riverbank mud. “Looks like we should have just stayed.” Will nodded in agreement.
We set-up overlooking the river, but saw nothing the rest of the night.
Day 11
Labor Day! Still perched over the river and still nothing happening. I’m down to my last piece of Logan bread – that’s it, I’m out of food. I’m hoping the base camp food made it. If it did, I’m going to wrap that damn piece of Logan bread back up and give it to Will for Christmas present. I don’t know where the sheep are that made the tracks along the river, but they aren’t showing themselves.
Will hiked down to look at [deleted] gulch and didn’t see a thing. But, he did finally hit a grouse with a rock. Looks like we will have something to eat tonight!
We started back towards the [deleted] landing strip at 11 am. We found another dead lamb carcass just past [deleted] Creek. That’s the fourth sheep carcass we’ve run across! By noon we had made it to the [deleted]. We shed our packs and stripped down. The swim across the river was cold, but washing off it the hot spring was worth it!
We made it back to the airstrip at 2 pm and found our food cache. Whew! No bears had found it. We cooked up the rock-killed grouse and a giant can of Western Family chili. Food never tasted so good! We were both stuffed.
We entertained the idea of hanging around camp, but when a not-so-friendly group of raft guides showed up to set up their customer’s camp we decided to make ourselves scarce. We picked out a trail up [deleted] Creek. It even had a bridge across the Middle Fork!
The walking was easy and before we knew it we had travelled almost six miles from camp. We reached the end of the drainage and scrambled up a sidehill to do some glassing. After 30 minutes of shivering and realizing we were losing all or our daylight, we scurried back down and made most of the trip back in the dark.
We returned to camp and heated up two giant cans of Western Family Beef stew. I thought I’d never have to eat again after the chili, but 12 miles of hiking can make a guy hungry.
Day 12
We woke up around 7 pm. It must have dipped below freezing during the night because frost was hanging in the pasture.
We gathered our belongings and headed up to the airstrip. We were still no more welcome in the outfitter rafting camp in the morning. Up at the airstrip we ran into [deleted], a guide for the hunting outfitters at [deleted]. We talked hunting for awhile. He offered to book me in for a 10-day sheep hunting trip, however the $9,000 price tag seemed a little much. You mean people would actually pay to suffer this much?
Pete arrived around 9 am to shuttle us back to civilization. If I thought the landing was scary, taking off erased that. The plane barely felt lifted off by the end of the grass runway. Then we spent the next several harrowing minutes trying to gain elevation by winding up the river seemingly low enough that the rafters needed to duck. Yikes! Finally we gained some elevation and turned up out of the canyon.
The area seemed so much smaller from the air and in no time we were back at the landing strip. Four hours later I arrived home. What a welcome sight! Before I walked in the house I stepped on the scale I have in the garage for weighing various dead creatures. 185 pounds. Wow, down 15 pounds since I had left. Need some food, but first things first, a shower!
Now it’s time to re-group and gain some weight back. The sheep hunting season doesn’t end
until October…………
The End
Of course, there was all sorts of other gear that I “needed” to get a ram; A new rangefinder, countless 30-06 bullets, a shooting bench, new sleeping bag and bivouac, spotting scope and binos, and USGS topo maps, made the list.
I spent some time talking to the sheep hunting experts in the Middle Fork. They gave me some good leads to check out. In July I took a week off of work and my youngest brother, Galen, and I hiked into the [deleted] edge of the unit. We backpacked in nearly 25 miles before Galen started getting heat stroke symptoms and we decided to abandon the trip after day 3. It took us two days to get back out. I found several areas that had some sheep sign during the scouting trip, but never saw any bighorns.
Since the [deleted] edge of the unit didn’t look that great, I decided to gamble on flying into the [deleted] edge of the unit for my hunt. I booked a backcountry flight from Middle Fork Aviation to drop my other brother, Will, and I off for 12 days at [deleted] airstrip. We would hike downstream towards [deleted] from there and glass for bighorns.
I was a little apprehensive about backpack hunting since I had never actually been on a backpacking trip. However, Will has been on numerous trips and Amber (my wife) and my mom convinced me to spend the $9/day for a satellite phone rental in case we got in trouble.
We needed to keep our packs as light as possible. For food, our main staple would be military issue MRE’s. To cut some weight I re-packed the MRE’s minus the extra condiments, packaging, etc. Seven MRE’s each still weighed in at almost 9 pounds. To supplement our MRE’s I also packed seven “snack packs” that included Logan Bread (A strange hippie backpacking concoction of every whole grain health food imaginable stuck together with molasses and honey – Google it), Power bars, trail mix, dried apple and mango chips, homemade moose jerky, some hard candy, and a Emergen-C vitamin packet. The snack packs weighed in at around 1 pound each. Each food pack was completed with a package of bagels (6) and one jar of peanut butter. The total food weight was around 18 pounds. We also had additional MRE’s and camp food stashed in some base camp supplies that wouldn’t be in the backpacks.
I decided against purifying water by pumping and instead used iodine. I got a survival book for Christmas two years ago that suggested using 2% tincture of Iodine at 5 drops per quart for 30 minutes. Tincture of Iodine is about $2 a bottle at Walgreens and has an almost indefinite shelf life. It also tastes terrible for the first few days until you get used to it, but not everything is heaven in the backcountry!
Day 0 – Thursday August 27
I met Will in Arco and we dropped his truck off at a friend’s house. We jumped in my truck and continued on to Challis. We drove into town and found the airport in short order. Our flight would be the next morning at 7:30 am. We decided to have a “last supper” at the Village Inn – a burger and a beer. I didn’t know how much I would miss that dinner!
At our final supper, Will realized he had forgotten his watch. We questioned our waiter for a spot to buy one – at 9 pm he only knew of one gas station open. They didn’t have a watch, but Will was able to buy a travel alarm clock – it would have to do. I admired the flea ridden bighorn sheep mount on the wall of the gas station – we must be in the right spot!
After the alarm clock purchase, we looked for a spot to crash for the night. No sense spending $50 on a motel, we found a gravel road, parked the truck, threw out the sleeping bags and slept in a turn-around fishing access for the Salmon River.
Will woke up with a sleeping bag full of ants. I was more fortunate, I only had a backache from the gravel!
Day 1
We arrived at Middle Fork Aviation around 7 am. The pilot arrived shortly after. We wandered over and he looked at us with a puzzled look.
“Where you going?” He asked.
“Flying with you.” I replied.
“Not with me, I’m the only flight out of here today and it’s with this guy”, he pointed to grizzled ranch hand unloading a strange assortment of gear from his car.
After some discussion we finally got Bob to look at the books in the office. Sure enough, we were on the list to fly out at 7:30 am with the owner, Pete Nelson. Whew, that was a relief. I had been a little concerned booking the flight a month and a half in advance.
Pete showed up promptly at 7:30 and we helped him pull the Cessna out of the hangar.
“So you’re going bighorn sheep hunting?” Pete asked.
“Sure enough, 12 days backpacking in after them.” I replied.
“This is all your gear?” Pete asked quizzically?
“Yep, got to carry most of it on our backs.” I replied back.
“Got a satellite phone?” Pete questioned.
“Yep, do you need the number?”
“Nope, just call me when you need a lift out.” Pete responded.
Not exactly the vote of confidence I was looking for. Pete didn’t think we’d even make it the full trip! The plane took off surprisingly smoothly from the airstrip in Challis. We chatted on the way. Pete had flown in several sheep hunters in this area over the years. He claimed that just finding the sheep was a huge problem. Even the hunters spending thousands of dollars on outfitters and guides had come back without even a sighting!
The flight went faster than I expected – only about 20 minutes.
“There it is.” Pete said.
I looked down and didn’t see anything but mountains and a river. Pete brought the plane around and I finally saw a windsock over what looked like a horse pasture.
“Only 680 feet, the second toughest landing strip in here.” Pete muttered.
“Great”, I thought. Where was that information in the guide book? The landing was incredibly smooth, the little plane hugged the uneven horse pasture and came to a halt just before a barbed-wire fence. Some color started to return to my knuckles as we stepped out.
“Alright, I gotta go, more runs to make.” Pete said. “Remember, just give me a call when you want out.”
We waved our goodbyes and picked up our gear. [deleted] Our plan was to stash some base gear (tent, extra food, clothes, boots, etc.) in case of bad weather or if we ran out of food. We found a spot [deleted] to stash our gear, punched in a GPS waypoint and set-off down the Middle Fork trail.
We needed to find a spot to ford the river to get into the hunting unit. I had brought a “raft” (A $20 kids toy from Wal-mart), to help with the crossing. We found a wide spot in the river near [deleted] Creek and scoped out our options. A small rock island protruded in the middle of the river. We slipped on sandals and were able to wade to the island with our packs. However, the river got significantly deeper and swifter after the island. It looked like wading with our packs would be risky.
I shed my pack and tried to ford the remaining channel. I made it with only couple of close calls through the waist-deep water, but there was no way I could make it with a fully loaded pack. Will was balanced on the rock island holding my pack from getting wet.
“What now?” Will asked.
“The raft, of course.” I replied.
Will’s eyes rolled. He didn’t look very confident. We blew up the raft and I jumped in to try paddling across. I didn’t make 15 feet before I knew I would be in trouble. The river was too swift, and my kiddie paddles were not going to cut whitewater! Time for Plan B.
Luckily, I was still in relatively shallow water when I abandoned Plan A. I drug the raft back.
“We’ll tie the packs in and drag them across.” I told Will. He agreed reluctantly. It was a bit of gamble. If we lost the packs, we also lost all of our gear including the Satellite phone to call old Pete to get us out of this mess.
We tied in the packs and Will held the raft while I peeled out line on my trek across the river. I made the other bank again without getting swept off my feet. Halfway to success! I tightened the slack out of the line to the raft and hollered to Will to cut it loose. Amazingly, the raft easily glided across the swift water and was safely onto the bank in short order. As if I ever had a doubt…..
Will picked his way across and we deflated and re-packed the boat. We reached [deleted] Creek, stashed the boating supplies and started up the canyon. The drainage looked good, but there wasn’t a trail up the bottom. We picked and hacked for 3 hours up the creek to make a mile and a half. We stumbled into a rattlesnake and found and old ram’s skull. Must be the right place!
By 4 pm we decided we needed to get higher ground to have some viewing for the evening. The weather was warm, probably high 80’s. I knew we would need as much water as possible, so we filled everything we had and came up with 4 gallons. At 8.5 pounds per gallon, it was another 17 pounds to each pack! Ughh. The pack weights were well over 70 pounds at that point.
The trudge up was grueling. The weather was scorching, the packs were brutally heavy, and the scree rock was one step up and slide back two steps back. We made the top of the ridge 1700 feet above the bottom at 7:00 pm.
The night of glassing produced a cow elk sighting. Better than nothing, but not a bighorn. We stretched out our sleeping bags on the only flat spot available – on the peak. They don’t call this area rugged for nothing!
The rest of this diary was transcribed from notes written on the back of my map.
Day 2
The weather was nice this morning, cooler but the clouds are breaking up. Could be a smoker again today. We glassed all day and came up with nothing. I found a really nice 6-point elk shed. Neat, but I’m not going to pack it out – yesterday was brutal!
Will tried to get us a grouse for dinner, but his aim with the rocks is a little off. Good thing – he forgot that the grouse season doesn’t open until tomorrow! Will did find a better camp site up the ridge, maybe we’ll head there sometime.
The weather is starting to cloud up on the horizon this evening. Some clouds and lightning in the distance…
Day 3
The rain started at 9:30 last night. At 12:30 am, I thought we were going to be struck by lightning. It was everywhere!
Good glassing/camping spots don’t mix. We were on the peak of the ridge, camped under the only two trees growing there! At 3:30 am the rain really started pelting down and a huge burst of wind pulled our tarp stakes! We struggled for 5 minutes in the downpour and wind to yank the rest of the tarp ties and secure it around a tree. I shivered the rest of the night until the rain stopped at 6:30 am. Will’s bivy leaked like a sieve – his bag is soaked. Some water seeped in the zipper of my bivy and pooled in the bottom. Cold, wet toes, but I’m otherwise dry.
We hung our gear at the camp and headed down to [deleted] Creek for water. I found another elk shed on the way down. We made it to the creek with barely a drop of water left. We filled up 2 gallons each again and headed back up.
Decided to detour up the creek and found a great looking fork called [deleted] at noon. There is sheep or deer sign everywhere. Our identification is a little shaky. The rain started at 12:30 pm. We slipped out of [deleted] and kept heading up [deleted] creek expecting to see a bear at anytime. There was sign everywhere. But, no bears or sheep appeared, just more rain.
The hike up was brutal, but we finally made it to the top and found Will’s campsite. It is a beautiful grassy knoll shaded by Pine trees and littered with elk sign. We stopped long enough to unload our water supplies and kept moving. We were both soaked and shivering and the rain just kept coming down.
We picked our way down the ridge for 45 minutes to our first camp. Everything we had hung to dry was drenched. I swear my pack still went 70 pounds without water!
The hike back up was slow and exhausting. We finally stopped for a break and shed our packs after over an hour of trudging. When we started again we realized we had only stopped 75 yards short of the new camp – Hallelujah!
I worked on building a fire – Will got our tarp re-set. This camp set-up is night and day better than the last! Ahh, finally some comfort of a warm fire – we kicked off our wet gear and ate MRE’s. Spaghetti for me and salsa chicken for Will – Heaven!
The rain stopped by 6:30 pm and I headed up to glass wearing sandals. My hiking shoes are still soaked. Nice hike, but nothing happening. First day of the hunting season – a complete bust!
Day 4
What a long night! Sleeping in wet bags is horrible. I thought Will was going into hypothermia – his bag was trembling all night.
I forced myself out of the sleeping bag at 6:00 am. The fog was so thick I could barely see across camp! I side-hilled around the canyon (in my sandals again) hoping to catch something. No luck. I knew my feet were cold, but it is above freezing – I shouldn’t be get frost bite.
Between the fog rolling in and out of the canyon I spotted a deer or bighorn sheep in [deleted]. I couldn’t tell in the fog. Whatever it was, it was having quite the time across the canyon jumping and back kicking. Maybe it was a sun dance!
Headed back to camp at 10 am. Jumped more grouse, we would be eating well with a shotgun. I ate a bagel and peanut butter; need to ration some food or the last few days will be really hungry. Shouldn’t matter if I can bag a sheep before then!
I spent two hours drying boots and gear at camp while the fog continued to hang in the canyons. The ridge tops are hit or miss, but the bottom won’t clear out. I sure hope the sun comes out today.
Things cleared out this afternoon. We headed down the ridge to glass and spotted a black bear working in [deleted]. Couldn’t convince Will we should go after it so he could pack it out. Maybe after we score on a sheep. We split up in the evening, I glassed [deleted] and Will glassed [deleted] Creek. I didn’t see squat all evening, but Will spotted a Mountain Goat in Boo-boo canyon. Nice sighting, wish we had one of those tags….
The night is turning clear and crisp. I snapped a coupled pics of the moonrise; I ‘m afraid they’ll look more like a sunrise. Wow, is the moon ever bright up here!
Day 5 – Amber’s Birthday!
Maybe it will be my lucky day, too! I spotted “Billy” and “Boo-boo” almost immediately this morning. Still can’t convince Will we could eat a whole bear in a week!
About 8:00 am something flashed through the binoculars. Could it be? It took another 10 minutes of searching with the spotting scope and sure enough – 3 bighorn rams! I could feel my pulse quicken even though they were well over a half mile away.
Unfortunately, all three were “sickle” horns, small ½ curl rams that were 2 to 3 years old; not quite big enough to pursue, but exciting anyhow. The three small rams were right where we expected in [deleted]. Guess that was sheep sign we saw on Day 3.
I glassed the three rams for almost an hour and a half before I lost them behind a small rock outcropping. I’m guessing they bedded down there for the day. We’ll see if their big brother comes out tonight. Will radioed at 11am to say he had spotted a sow bear with two cubs. What a morning!
I bailed at noon. Underestimated my water supply in the pack. We’ll have to go back down tomorrow for another water run. Will is headed up to [deleted] Lookout; at [deleted] feet he should be able to see some country from there. I left Amber a happy birthday voicemail with the Satellite phone. I’m headed out to look at [deleted] ridge as soon as the rest of my gear dries.
[deleted] ridge was a bust. Hiked down three miles and glassed for an hour. The hike back was long and up! Did the last hour with the headlamp. Will also went bust at [deleted] lookout. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. The morning was sure good!
Day 6
We went bust glassing this morning, but we did scout out a new campsite. Spent the mid-morning moving the camp down; closer to water, and a better view of [deleted]. I broke into another MRE today. The last couple of days have been brutal on rations; I’ve been dreaming of food.
We hiked down for water at noon and narrowly missed a buzzworm (rattlesnake) on the slide down the scree. Will took a pic – it was the biggest rattlesnake I’ve ever seen in the wild. Will also found a nice deer shed.
The hike for water was only a ½ mile long, but 1500 feet of elevation loss. Not quite a 450 angle, but close! Will is going to hike back up to glass for the evening. I’m going to stay low and try to catch the three rams from yesterday morning coming down for water.
UGHHH!!!!!! I just blew a herd of sheep out of [deleted]. I keep replaying it in my head, thinking I could have gotten a shot off, but I really never had an ethical shot to take. I was trying to work up to decent vantage point to overlook the headwater of the creek in [deleted]. In fact, the water was only a few hundred yards up the canyon. I had been poking around slowly for the better part of an hour. Partly because I didn’t want to spook anything and partly because I was so tired!
I stopped to eat lunch for 20 minutes and then started up to a better looking vantage point about 30 yards further up the canyon. I had just gotten to the small rock outcropping when I heard some rock falling below me…
I immediately saw the band of sheep running the dry creek bed below me. I threw off my pack and unstrapped the rifle. I knew that the dry creek bed was at 250 yards because I had shot it with the rangefinder at lunch. As soon as I saw the herd, they cut up the opposite canyon face.
I got the rifle steadied on the rock outcropping and trained on the herd. Sure enough, the lead sheep was a ram – and a granddaddy at that. The herd was running directly away from me, so I never had a side view, but his horns curled seemingly endlessly to the sides. It looked more like a Texas longhorn running up the scree pile across from me than a bighorn sheep.
Behind granddaddy ram, the three sickle horns and six or seven ewes finished out the band. The group was making climbing the canyon look easy, but they weren’t gaining much ground away from my position because it was so steep. 275, 300, 325, 350 yards…still going….
STOP! STOP!!! STOP!!!! I was screaming in my head, just pause, turn, anything so I can get a shot, but that old ram never did; just kept running until he disappeared into the timber at 500 yards.
I could have tried a running shot, but I was never looking at anything besides his tail. Plus I would have risked only wounding the ram, or worse, hitting the wrong animal. Not shooting was the ethical choice….
Still, I’m heartbroken. All summer running and training, 5 days of scouting, 6 days of camping on this mountain, and one chance of lifetime – gone………..
3 hours later…….
Okay, I’ve almost regained my composure. Will convinced me that the band is bound to work their way back into this fork – or another group may still be in this canyon. Ahh, Will, the forever optimist. I have almost convinced myself that something else spooked them. It was strange the direction they took and that they never stopped to look back. These sheep can’t see that many people, this canyon is not that easy to get too!
It’s a nice day. I kicked off my shoes to let my socks dry from the afternoon sweat. Broke out the long sleeve camo shirt – a clean shirt after 6 days is awesome! I’ve got a great perch about 175 yards above the creek bottom. I built a shooting bench in front of me out of rocks. The rifle is propped and ready. Just a waiting game now.
I spent an hour after the sheep encounter trying to dry the fog out of the scope. It must have gotten wet during Saturday’s rain. Funny, I never noticed while I was following the sheep with it.
The ants are starting to drive me crazy. I must be sitting on an ant hell (hill) – it gives a new meaning to phrase “ants in the pants”!
I just finished my MRE for the night (5:30 pm) – I hope it gives me enough energy to get up the 1500 foot climb back to camp. Will’s already radioed with horror stories of the climb up. He stopped short to wait for the sun to go down. The MRE was a beef enchilada and refried beans topped with Picante sauce. I must be on the verge of starvation because it was the best enchilada I’ve ever eaten – and I never even bothered to heat it up! We’ll, I’d better get back to scanning for sheep. I’ve got my fingers crossed that they’ll return. Ugh, just found tick, guess it’s not all ants crawling up my pants!
Day 7
The walk back to camp last night was brutal. I stumbled down the creek in the dark, flashing the head lamp beam between finding footing in the scree and scanning for bears. I thought the creek was rough until I started back up the ½ mile by 1500 feet. The loose scree meant one step up and only to slide back from all of the gain. I made it to camp until just shy of 11 pm.
We glassed this morning from below camp – nice spot, but nothing moving. I packed all of my gear to bail off into the bottom. We are going to split up – Will stays high to glass, I’ll try to catch the herd coming down to water or get directions from Will if he spots something.
Will is in a spotting slump, he’s spotted a bear and two cubs and a mountain goat in 7 days of glassing. I figure he’s just due. We’ll see…..outta of paper - gotta pull another map out of the pack…
Whew! What I rush. I bailed off the scree pile down to the bottom and decided to check on [deleted]. That’s where I saw the herd headed yesterday. I drug, scrambled, and picked my way up [deleted] almost a half mile by 2 pm; no land speed records in here.
Just after I talked to Will on the radio (he was off to take a nap), I jumped a bear out of the creek bottom. It was a nice chocolate colored black bear and I was debating on unstrapping the rifle when I realized why she had stopped at 75 yards; a cute little black fuzz ball came scurrying up behind her. Neat!
I took off my pack and snapped a couple of pictures, before I realized what was going on; Mom and baby bear were looking for their other sibling. Just then I heard some scurrying in the brush below me – guess who…
A little chocolate fuzz-ball looked up at me at 10 feet and immediately started bellowing, “Mom, Save me”.
“Oh Shit!!”
I threw on my pack and started up the mountainsides as fast as I could. Unfortunately, my overstuffed black pack either looked like a mama bear or my 7 days without a shower had given me the smell of a mama bear. In either case, baby boo-boo was hot on my heels bellowing “Wait for me”.
I got to a reasonably defendable outcropping and turned to face my tormentor. I had lost track of mama bear in my scramble and I was getting more uneasy by the minute. Baby boo-boo stood on his haunches and balled. I yelled “Go home”, “Go away”. Apparently in baby boo-boo language this meant come closer, faster.
I picked up a rock and hurled it at the cub. The rock sailed harmlessly over his head. The next was on track for a direct hit until he stopped and dodged it. Baby boo-boo’s crying started to intensify and his pace was quickening – throwing rocks was not working. He was convinced I was his mother!
I turned back up the mountain. Surely I could outpace this little cub, but for his little size, that cub was a track star. The faster I went, the louder he wailed and the faster he scurried. Finally after 10 minutes of scampering, I finally got out of sight.
Whew, I sat down and un-slung my rifle – just in case. The little cub was now squalling even louder and longer, but safely below me. My labored breathing just about covered his wails, but wait, no it couldn’t be….the wails were coming closer. Sure enough, up popped two little ears 30 yards away and suddenly and ecstatic cub found his mother again.
My only option was up the mountain further. My last visual of the mother had been on the opposite side of the canyon, but she could be working back around to her wailing baby. My calves ached and my lungs burned, but I kept scrambling up that mountainside. I didn’t stop until I was nearly even with our glassing spot from the morning.
From my high perch, I finally spotted momma bear again racing down a scree pile on the opposite side. Wow, that was close! The little cub stopped his wailing and followed his real mother and brother up the canyon. However, just before they rounded the bend he let out a couple more howls. No doubt telling his new found mother that she should come along as well. Always an adventure!
Day 8
I made it out of bear canyon yesterday afternoon without further incident and bushwhacked 3 hours back up to [deleted]. Made it just before 7 pm. The rest of the night was uneventful; Will glassed three elk, but nothing else. At least his slump is easing. My camping spot was less than ideal. Sleeping on scree rock is not exactly Serta-comfort. I managed to hack apart the only bush on the side-hill to help ease the jagged rock back massage and got a few hours of sleep.
I eased back into my look-out at 6:30 am for the day’s vigil. Will called at 7:30 am to say he’d spotted the crazy brown cub and family in [deleted]. Nothing else is on the move.
At 11 am Will decided to work back up to [deleted] lookout. Eventually he’ll work around to my side and try a last ditch push down the canyon to try to blow any remaining sheep down my way. My confidence is beginning to slip in the wait them out plan. But, everything can change in a hurry.
I hung out the Old Man’s medicine/Shaman/Indian good luck charm to try to change our luck. It smells a lot like tobacco and strangely appetizing. I’m so sick of eating Logan bread, I’m tempted to say the hell with good luck charms and see if it is edible. I’ll hold out for now, but I’m starting to become concerned that this thing may attract the attention of a giant cat (mountain lion), that’s just what I need sneaking in behind me!
Our hunting is starting to slip into the desperation mode out here, but I still think today could be the day. I’m only 50 yards from the creek bottom; should be a chip shot (knock on wood) if they try to make a move for water. More later….
Day 9
Not much else happened last night. A lot more staring, listening to pygmy rabbits calling back and forth to each other, and hourly checks with Will on the radio. Will didn’t see anything either.
I hiked down to the creek after dark to refuel on water and wash my clothes out. I haven’t washed them since we got drenched back on Sunday and they were starting to stand up on their own.
It was a little eerie being down in the creek. I was surrounded by alders and couldn’t see 10 feet in any direction. I kept an eye peered for the bear that was certain to jump me at any moment. Too many days in the bush – I’m starting to get paranoid!
After laundry duty, I decided to distance myself from the bear infested creek. I found an un-level, rocky perch to lay-out my sleeping pad. Enough said – it was a long night!
Ohh, I almost forgot. Yesterday I decided to eat a full ration – yippee! Unfortunately, my MRE did not live up to the beef enchilada expectations. It was pita wraps with tuna and light mayo. What surgeon general decided Marines should be eating “light mayo”? The stuff tasted terrible and didn’t have any calories to boot – as if I need diet food out here!
I woke up at dawn and found a nice perch overlooking the confluence of [deleted] and [deleted]. Looked good, but after four hours I had only spotted chipmunk. Radioed Will at 10 am to try something new. I’ll hike halfway up [deleted] and then he’ll work down on the opposite side.
It’s 1:00 pm and I haven’t heard anything on the radio – Will must still be picking along. I’d like to hear some tumbling scree in front of a herd of rams. Time will tell, better get back to watching.
It’s 2:00 pm, I just spotted Will across the canyon. I think he’s looking for me or he’s just lost his mind. He must not have his radio on because I can’t get him on it. Nothing jumped on the whole push.
I decided to saddle my pack and head across the canyon to Will. He finally heard some rock rolling and called me on the radio. We agreed on a meeting spot and I continued to pick my way over. I stumbled onto a sheep carcass in the bottom of the canyon. Looked like an ewe, but it was hard to tell, probably from earlier in the summer.
There was a plethora of sheep sign on the opposite side of the canyon. The band had definitely been hanging here for most of the summer. Just below the top I came across a bedding area that still reeked of sheep and wet urine stains dotted the ground. The smell was almost like elk, but even stronger. Apparently I hadn’t pushed them completely out of the canyon.
I meet up with Will about 3:30 pm. He looked completely beat. I guess two days of solid hiking will sap out some energy – especially on our rations. We surveyed our water supply and I volunteered to go down solo to retrieve some more water (what a good older bro!). On my way down I found a matched set of mule deer shed antlers lying within 3 feet of each other. Now, I just need to convince Will to pack them out….
The water run was actually the shortest yet; I was down and back up in a little more than an hour. I had stumbled across and old trail that made the hike substantially easier.
Once I arrived back up on the ridge we hiked upwards along the top edge being careful not to become sky-lined into [deleted]. An afternoon hailstorm caught us off-guard and we dove under the tarp for cover. It wasn’t roomy, but dry. After eating an MRE each, we decided to split up again. I would continue up the ridge still-hunting as Will glassed from our new camp (the hailstorm tarp).
I picked my way along the ridge-top and saw nothing. With 30 minutes of light remaining, I found a good looking vantage point just in time to see Momma Boo-boo and her brown and black cubs walking up the other side. I’m glad they haven’t found one of our camps yet. Will also saw the bears, but nothing else.
Day 10
Wow, the weather and hunting outlook can change in a hurry. The wind blew hard most of the night and the weather cooled substantially. I still hunted up from camp again and Will stayed and glassed. I was really running out of confidence fast. I stopped just before the top to choke down a piece of Logan bread. I smeared it with so much peanut butter it was all I could taste. Funny, the stuff didn’t seem that bad at the beginning of the trip.
After my breakfast break, I stumbled across fresh sheep tracks. Here we go! However, after poking around the vicinity for two hours, I gave up and continued along the ridgeline. I peeked into [deleted] Creek and saw 7 elk feeding along. I thought they might have been sheep until I looked through the binoculars.
At 11am, I had been hiking for 5 hours and Will was bored out of his mind. We decided on a “squeeze” play. We would both come down the [deleted] from opposite sides. We met up at 1 pm with nothing to show for our effort.
We decided to pick our way out of [deleted] creek and back to the river crossing raft so we could explore the Middle Fork trail on the last day. We hadn’t hiked very far when I heard something in the bushes in front of us.
“Bear!” I hissed to Will as I shed my pack and loaded the rifle. Sure enough, a couple of minutes later a black head appeared in the bushes 75 yards across from us. As the bear ambled our way, I steadied the rifle, fully intending to fill my bear tag and make our packs substantially heavier.
Just before I squeezed the trigger, another smaller black head popped out; another mother with cubs. I eased off the rifle and Will snapped a few pictures as they ambled up the canyon. That was the third sow with cubs we had spotted during the trip. [deleted]
We continued down [deleted] until we hit [deleted] Creek.
“Remember how tough this stretch was.” Will smirked.
“I think we were still green”, I replied.
I might have been right for the first mile of [deleted] Creek, we clipped along at a good pace skirting the brush choked creek on faint trails side-hilling across the scree. However, Will’s memory was correct on the final mile and a half to the river. We jumped a herd of elk and small bull and stopped for lunch at 4 pm.
After the elk sighting, the trails disappeared. We spent 3 hours bushwhacking the remaining mile to the river. I toppled down a log caught a break when my pack entangled in the nearby bushes, otherwise I would have been soaked! Will took a couple small tumbles on the scree. Every step was agonizingly slow, not sure if the rocks would hold or if another rattle snake would appear. We jumped two in the last mile.
Just before the river we found two more sheep kills. Both looked like lambs from sometime earlier in the summer. We finally made the river at 7 pm and headed for the crossing spot.
“Look at this.” I pointed to Will. Fresh sheep tracks in the riverbank mud. “Looks like we should have just stayed.” Will nodded in agreement.
We set-up overlooking the river, but saw nothing the rest of the night.
Day 11
Labor Day! Still perched over the river and still nothing happening. I’m down to my last piece of Logan bread – that’s it, I’m out of food. I’m hoping the base camp food made it. If it did, I’m going to wrap that damn piece of Logan bread back up and give it to Will for Christmas present. I don’t know where the sheep are that made the tracks along the river, but they aren’t showing themselves.
Will hiked down to look at [deleted] gulch and didn’t see a thing. But, he did finally hit a grouse with a rock. Looks like we will have something to eat tonight!
We started back towards the [deleted] landing strip at 11 am. We found another dead lamb carcass just past [deleted] Creek. That’s the fourth sheep carcass we’ve run across! By noon we had made it to the [deleted]. We shed our packs and stripped down. The swim across the river was cold, but washing off it the hot spring was worth it!
We made it back to the airstrip at 2 pm and found our food cache. Whew! No bears had found it. We cooked up the rock-killed grouse and a giant can of Western Family chili. Food never tasted so good! We were both stuffed.
We entertained the idea of hanging around camp, but when a not-so-friendly group of raft guides showed up to set up their customer’s camp we decided to make ourselves scarce. We picked out a trail up [deleted] Creek. It even had a bridge across the Middle Fork!
The walking was easy and before we knew it we had travelled almost six miles from camp. We reached the end of the drainage and scrambled up a sidehill to do some glassing. After 30 minutes of shivering and realizing we were losing all or our daylight, we scurried back down and made most of the trip back in the dark.
We returned to camp and heated up two giant cans of Western Family Beef stew. I thought I’d never have to eat again after the chili, but 12 miles of hiking can make a guy hungry.
Day 12
We woke up around 7 pm. It must have dipped below freezing during the night because frost was hanging in the pasture.
We gathered our belongings and headed up to the airstrip. We were still no more welcome in the outfitter rafting camp in the morning. Up at the airstrip we ran into [deleted], a guide for the hunting outfitters at [deleted]. We talked hunting for awhile. He offered to book me in for a 10-day sheep hunting trip, however the $9,000 price tag seemed a little much. You mean people would actually pay to suffer this much?
Pete arrived around 9 am to shuttle us back to civilization. If I thought the landing was scary, taking off erased that. The plane barely felt lifted off by the end of the grass runway. Then we spent the next several harrowing minutes trying to gain elevation by winding up the river seemingly low enough that the rafters needed to duck. Yikes! Finally we gained some elevation and turned up out of the canyon.
The area seemed so much smaller from the air and in no time we were back at the landing strip. Four hours later I arrived home. What a welcome sight! Before I walked in the house I stepped on the scale I have in the garage for weighing various dead creatures. 185 pounds. Wow, down 15 pounds since I had left. Need some food, but first things first, a shower!
Now it’s time to re-group and gain some weight back. The sheep hunting season doesn’t end
until October…………
The End
Travis's Hunt ... 2009 ... (early)
In Travis's words:
" ... well unfortunately no ram ... big beautiful country that enjoyed kicking my butt! ... we found ewes and lambs in other areas but just couldnt find the rams."
" ... I must say im in the best shape of my life right now!"
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
2008 Harvest Data ...
Yikes ... Bryan just sent me the harvest data for Sheep, 2008, Idaho.
Here’s the harvest data from the web site. http://fishandgame.idaho.gov/apps/ch/08/rm_bighorn_sheep_harv.cfm
Here’s the harvest data from the web site. http://fishandgame.idaho.gov/apps/ch/08/rm_bighorn_sheep_harv.cfm
Saturday, November 1, 2008
2008 ...
I haven't heard of any sheep coming out of 27-1 yet this season. If you went in - I'd love to hear your story. Give me a call at 208 / 883 9540. Serious Hunter (Jeff)
Bryan's 2007 Hunt
Bryan's Hunt, 2007 ...Slideshow is here:
http://www.associatedcontent.com/slideshow/8940/bryans_sheep_hunt.html?cat=43
I spoke with Jerome last night. He found those three rams on Saturday afternoon and killed a nice one. […] Keith and Cody left on Sunday (day after you). Jerome's son Bridger flew in to finish the hunt with him. The rams he found were the same ones I saw on Friday. Bridger saw some ewes from the top and called Jerome to him. The ewes went down and over a finger. They followed believing they might have saw a 3/4 curl. When they looked over the finger, they saw the 3 rams I found the day before. They were tucked into a little nook that Jerome says could not be seen from the river. The country was extremely steep and he missed with his first shot. He held 4 inches low on the second shot and killed him. The other two stood by the ram until they walked up to them and then moved only about 200 yards away and watched them butcher the ram. He's saying its a 170 class ram. The other bigger ram was 160 to 165. The small ram was just approaching 3/4 curl. I missed my opportunity but I'm glad that Jerome scored.
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