Bighorn Sheep Unit 27-1 (Idaho)

... no F-G IDEA!!!

2012-01-28T17:50:00.001-08:00

Our house is presently for sale. I was home when a realtor arrived with a prospective buyer (couple). Presently I have my Bighorn Sheep mount in the Living Room, visible from the street. The first thing the prospective buyer asked (walking in the door) was if the Sheep Mount was for sale. I said, “Yes, for and additional [deleted] thousand.” I was honest and serious. I realized later he was being cynical. I realized later also that I was doing whatever I could to derail the sale. The couple was no doubt yuppie, probably from S. Cal. I thought, ... you have no idea what getting a bighorn sheep in Idaho means. YOU HAVE NO F-G IDEA! You don’t deserve a house like this. I don’t think you even deserve to live in Idaho!

NATE'S ROUND TWO - THE CHASE CONTINUES

2011-06-23T21:13:00.000-07:00

Not long after I returned from the first trip to the Middle Fork, I started getting the urge to return. The season ran into October, and I knew it would be hard to sit on the sidelines while my once in a lifetime tag expired. Amber and I talked it over and she agreed I should go. However, she wasn’t impressed by my plan to be dropped off by myself. Nevertheless, I booked a flight and began gathering and repairing gear. It would be colder on this trip, and I needed to shave any unneeded equipment out of my pack.

Barely two weeks before my scheduled departure, my old college buddy, Rob, called to catch up. When I told him I was flying into the Frank Church Wilderness to chase bighorn sheep, he immediately told me he was in. Apparently, the housing recession had caught him at his construction job in Illinois. Things had slowed down, and his boss wasn’t too heartbroken by his request for two weeks off work. We hastily secured Rob a non-resident elk tag and I sent off a list of needed equipment. Can’t beat a plan coming together at the last minute!

Day (-1)

Rob arrived and Amber picked him up at the airport in Boise while I was at work. He decided to buy steaks and shrimp from the Hagerman grocery store for his “last supper.” I think “fresh” seafood in central Idaho should probably raise a red flag. An hour after dinner, we went out to shoot Rob’s rifle (the airport bag handlers had made some adjustments for him), but only twenty minutes into the practice, his Hagerman shrimp wanted out. After some tense minutes in the sagebrush, Rob had evacuated his system. We returned from the shooting expedition to learn that Amber had also gotten sick!

Day 0

I had to work the next day as well, so Rob ran into Sportsman’s Warehouse for supplies. Four hundred dollars later, he returned with underarmour, a new stove, fuel, and a CO2 powered BB gun for grouse hunting – overkill? We gathered all his new equipment and finished going through the packs. We plan on leaving at 3am so we don’t have to sleep in the cold an extra night.

Day 1

The alarm went off at 2:30 am – wow is that early! We arrived in Challis at 6:00 am and had our “last breakfast” at a small café. We met our Pilot, Pat, at 7:30 for our flight into the wilderness. My previous flying experience had made me fairly comfortable with the landing segment, however, Pat’s technique of “hair cutting” the pines on the opposite mountainside of the landing strip had me a little worried. Worried or not, we touched down to a safe, bumpy landing on the pasture strip.

Pat had a return customer to fly out – a disgruntled guide from the outfitter business that hadn’t seen a paycheck all season. I guess it isn’t all fun in games in the outdoor business! We said hello to Tyrell (our $9K man from last trip) and started up the trail. We reached [deleted] Bar in a few hours and dropped our packs for some recon work. We glassed the far bank for awhile hoping to spot an errant ram coming down for a drink, but had no success. After a short debate we found a suitable fording spot and braved the current of the Middle Fork. On the far bank I was glad to be free of the rubber wader weight!

The peak behind [deleted] Bar was extremely slow going. Rob’s new Cabela’s pack was nothing but problems; straps breaking, loads shifting, etc, etc. We finally crested at 5900 feet and set camp. There wasn’t much time to glass – a storm and darkness was already approaching.

Day 2

I’m glad we had a tent! It rained/snowed all night and the wind was howling. Twice I though the two-man tent was going to blow down. The windward side flattened down so much that it was brushing my nose. We’re waiting for a stall in the weather to break camp….

Day 3

Our weather break never came. We spent the entirety of Day 2 riding out the storm in the tent. We awoke this morning to 3 inches of fresh snow covering the tent and the mountain top, fortunate that it hadn’t been more in the rain/snow mix. At that point, the snow didn’t matter, we were ready to get out and stretch our legs. Thirty-six hours in a two-man tent is enough to drive a guy crazy. We had told every joke we knew and caught up on the past 8 years since we had gone to college together. It was time to get moving!

We started a slow and steady march up the knife ridge to the top. About 500 vertical feet into our climb, Rob stopped to re-adjust his pack. As he did, a strap broke and sent his sleeping bag sliding down the slope. I made lunge for the bag, but came up empty as it cart wheeled past me and continued to pick up speed. The bag’s path was quickly interrupted by a large deadfall, but instead of sliding to a stop, I watched in horror as the downed tree launched the bag fifteen feet into the air and sent it out of sight down the hillside! We stood in shock for several seconds until Rob began cursing his Cabela’s pack.

“I’ll go”, I said. I knew we couldn’t go on without the bag. The Middle Fork is not forgiving. There are no convenience stores, very few other hunters, and no second chances. I followed the path of the bag down through the snow until I reached the deadfall. Past the deadfall, there was little sign of the sleeping bag in the snow. After being launched into the air, the bag had stopped sliding and started bouncing. Even with the fresh snow, it was hard to see the path it had taken. I had gone down almost 700 feet before I completely lost the trail. With everything white with snow, I assumed spotting the black nylon bag would be easy. I turned around to survey my path and saw one small clump of bushes about 100 yards back up. Despite my aching legs, I decided to crawl back up the hill. Sure enough, wedged in the middle of the short shrubs lay the sleeping bag – I had walked within 10 feet of it on the way down.

Within 45 minutes of beginning the search, I was back up to meet Rob. We continued on our way, slipping and sliding on the snow-covered scree rock. When we neared the top, we stopped to make a small fire to warm up and melt some snow for water. The resulting water was terrible and tasted like pine smoke. Our melting pot was also seriously blackened by the pitch of a cool fire.

We continued on and found a reasonable camp spot nestled among some short pines near the top of the ridge. After shedding the tent and our camping supplies we set out to find some glassing locations for the evening. I was anxious to get hunting since we still hadn’t spotted anything in three days. Unfortunately, our evening passed uneventfully and the lack of tracks in the basin didn’t boost my confidence.

Day 4

Brrrr! We awoke this morning to a temperature of 10 F! Rob’s Thermarest blew out overnight and he couldn’t stay warm sleeping on a bed of snow without a working pad. After a restless night, we hiked down the knife ridge some to glass the drainage. Spent most of the morning peering through binoculars and checking with the spotting scope, but we didn’t turn up a thing. No sheep, no deer, nothing. I was beginning to wonder if this entire drainage had moved down for the winter!

We wandered back up to camp around noon and looked around for fresh tracks or signs of life. With no promising leads on the top, we decided to move the camp to lower elevation. Getting below the snow would at least help Rob’s blown-out sleeping pad.

We re-set camp and glassed for the rest of the evening, but we didn’t turn up a thing. Tomorrow has got to be better!

Day 5

Woke up this morning and couldn’t get any bullets into the rifle. Some moisture had collected in the breech and froze which wouldn’t allow the bolt to seat completely. I spent the morning switching between glassing and blowing on the bolt to thaw it out. Finally got the bolt unthawed by 9 am, but never saw a thing through the glass. Rob had equally limited luck.

Around 11 am, I decided to slip down into the drainage while Rob stayed high to glass. I made a long loop into the bottom but didn’t spot a thing. I stopped at the bottom and felt a twinge of discouragement as I peered up the 2,000 feet to camp.

About halfway back to camp, I spotted little brown boo-boo with his brown mother and black sibling. Guess something still lives in this drainage – now if I could only find the sheep! Just before camp I blundered into a group of spruce grouse. I manage to knock a few feathers off with the BB gun, but couldn’t knock anything down – go figure! More freeze dried tonight!

Back at camp, Rob had little more to report. He hadn’t spotted a thing. We glassed right up until the last shred of daylight as another snow storm settled in over the basin.

Day 6

Time to pack up camp. We awoke at 6:30 am to a slight skiff of snow around the tent.

BRRRR.. Is it ever cold! Made some cold granola with blueberries – not quite as good as eggs and bacon, but it will work. Our outlook is not overly optimistic. One bear spotted in 5 days is not exactly stellar hunting. Plus, sleeping on the soft bed of angled Rocky Mountain scree has not been that been the Swedish massage my aching back has been seeking. We’ve lugged a lot a food and gear up to this mountain get away. But, then again, that’s why they call it hunting and not shopping!

The trek down was slow. About halfway down the face, Rob lost his footing on a scree pile. I looked back just in time to see him cartwheel down the last 10 feet of scree and into a crumpled pile at the bottom. Amazingly, only his pride was damaged. Save a few bruises and scrapes, his was unscathed.

After the cartwheel, we took a more careful pace. The rock and scree piles ran together as Rob recited one liners from the movie “Step Brothers”. I still have the Dale Doback line stuck in my head:

“Okay, here's the shot out of the cannon: Oprah, Barbara Walters, your wife. You gotta f**k one, marry one, kill one, go!”.

At least the joking is taking my mind off this heavy pack and my weary legs. We hiked to within ¾ of a mile from the confluence of [deleted] Creek and the Middle Fork and set camp in a wide spot in the creek bottom. We quickly coined the camp name “Bear Alley”, by all the berry laden dung piles we had to clear for the tent site. We hung the sleeping bags and clothes out to dry in the afternoon sun. I even washed some socks and my shirt in the creek. Wow – clean clothes – like starting a whole new trip!

We ate some lunch and then headed down the canyon to glass for the afternoon.

Day 7

Glassing last evening was a bust. We hung our food in a nearby tree and Rob slept with one eye open expecting a bear to take the bait at any time. Fortunately, the bears never showed.

We packed up camp early and got going by 7 am. The sky had again clouded up and a few snowflakes drifted down as we hiked down the creek. We stopped to glass for an hour, but saw nothing – imagine that!

Dejected, we continued plodding down the creek. The route became more and more treacherous, both with the chance of snakes (luckily we only saw bull snakes), and stumbling on the loose rock. I was in the lead by about 20 steps when I hear a muffled:

“Nate!”

I looked back expecting to see Rob falling, but instead watched a handful of trail mix spurt from his mouth as he wildly gestured up the hill. I turned back and immediately hit the ground. Not 50 yards in front of me, six sheep were rapidly turning to make their escape.

I ripped the rifle from the pack and threw the bolt down on a live round. I surveyed the band through the rifle scope. They seemed bewildered and had stopped to stare back at their intruders. Two sickle horns (young rams), 3 ewes, and a lamb. Where was the ram in this bunch?

Just then, an ewe sunk back off her feet and bedded down. It couldn’t be! Slowly the rest of the herd settled back down and carved out beds on the 45 degree slope in the scree rock. I had always wondered how they would sleep on such inclines…..I guess seeing is understanding!

Now at 58 yards, all six sheep were contently bedded and chewing their afternoon cud. I, on the other hand, was uncomfortably parked on several rocks that threatened to cut-off the blood supply to my legs. After 20 minutes, I couldn’t take the agony and slowly shifted to a new position. The sheep remained unfazed. I pulled out my binoculars and began glassing for mature ram, but I didn’t find anything.

I kept darting back to the biggest sickle horn. He wasn’t quite a half curl ram, but he seemed to be growing in front of me, especially after 6 days of nothing. I pulled the rifle back up – 58 yards, a chip shot even for me. The cross hairs were steady on his chest, but he wasn’t the ram of a lifetime. The rifle slouched back down…

After another 25 minutes, the band got up and slowly ambled up the canyon towards Rob. They stopped to stare him down at 35 yards. Between slow walking and staring, it took another 30 minutes for them to move up the hill and out of sight a 100 yards away. Only then, did I finally take a normal breath!

My teeth were chattering from the cold. Light snow was falling and I only had a lightweight shirt for the walk out – my jacket had been hopelessly buried in my pack. I whistled to Rob and we hunkered down by a rock to warm up and eat some lunch.

“I thought you were going to shoot!” Rob chided.

“Not big enough.” I replied.

“Come on! How many days have you been out here?” Rob joked back.

We hiked the rest of the way out and set camp at the confluence. Amazing how fast things can turn around. We had finally spotted some sheep! Grandaddy ram had to be here somewhere! I hiked up high to glass for the night. I spotted a golden eagle and a shed elk antler, but nothing else.

While I was glassing, another pair of hunters intercepted our Motorola traffic. I chatted for awhile with Donney and his partner who were camped just downstream from [deleted] Bar. They had been rafting the Middle Fork for almost 10 days already and lived in Salmon, Idaho. They had spotted one ¾ curl ram so far, but it wasn’t what they had been looking for. They were very curious about our sightings in [deleted] Creek, but decided to leap frog past after I assured them we hadn’t spotted any trophy rams in the drainage.

Tomorrow will be the day!

Day 8

The night was clear and cold. Our water bottles were frozen in the morning. We woke early and headed out in the dark to stake out the “sheep spot”. By noon we were again losing confidence. I hiked up the hill to look for the elk shed I spotted the night before. Rob had to promised to pack it out if I could find it. At 3 pm he was loaded down with a dandy 5 point elk shed and headed back to camp for lunch. I stuck tight until dark hoping that granddaddy ram was in the same vicinity as his six great-grand sheep! However, as darkness fell, I trudged back to camp empty-handed.

Day 9

I climbed back up in the morning to glass, but didn’t spot anything. By mid-morning, I decided to come back down and we broke camp to trudge back towards our crossing spot. I say trudge, because without a trail, it was extremely slow going. On our way back we side-tracked into a nice looking canyon. We found a lot of old deer sign (shed antlers), but nothing that looked like sheep or elk. I had almost forgotten that Rob had shelled out $500 for an elk tag and hunting license.

We saw a fair number of sheep tracks during our trek along the river making me think again that we should have been rafting. We stopped at Hospital Bar hot spring to snap a photo – no swimming this time, it was too cold!

We finally arrived back at the stashed raft and made one more perilous river crossing. It was a good feeling to get back on dry land. We made quick work of the hike back to the airstrip. It’s amazing how much faster trail walking is rather than bush-whacking up some scree-laden mountainside. Back at camp, we stashed extra gear (waders and raft) and picked up some more food (since we were completely out!).

It took a little convincing, but Rob agreed to head upriver to check out some different country. We only had one more day of hunting left.

We hiked for a couple of hours and set-camp. Once relieved of our weight burden, we quickly slipped up the drainage and found a plethora of black bear sign. With Rob’s non-resident elk tag (also doubles as a bear tag in Idaho) we took up the trail. However, daylight slipped away and we never spotted a bear or elk.

Back at camp, we had to throw Rob’s socks outside of the tent. No worries on a bear coming into this camp – those socks could gag a horse! I guess 9 days of sweating will make some interesting smells! Tomorrow is our last day of hunting – I’m not holding my breath!

Day 10

We awoke early and started up the drainage. At the first fork, we decided to split up to cover more country. This area didn’t look like tremendous sheep country, but you never know!

I was clipping along at a fairly quick pace through the timbered ridge. My plan was to get above the timber to look at some distant crags. They were probably too far away to hunt, but if I spotted a ram over there, I was sure going to try. At my quick pace, I hadn’t paid that much attention to the growing amount of elk sign as I gained elevation.

Suddenly, at 30 yards, something caught my attention. Antlers! Two bull elk were bedded just in front of me. Somehow, they hadn’t yet caught my scent. I frantically grabbed my radio to call Rob. Hopefully, he wasn’t too far away.

After several call attempts on the radio, I realized he was really far away! We were out of communication distance. About that time, one of the bulls got nervous and stood up. At 30 yards and broadside, he would have been a chip shot even with a bow. It was a decent 6x6 bull, nothing record book, but a beautiful animal. Unfortunately, our elk tag was somewhere down with Rob in bear basin! The elk sauntered off across the mountainside.

I gained some more vertical distance and finally got Rob on the radio. After a brief discussion, we hatched a plan to put him down below the elk and see if I could circle them back to his direction. I started to make a long loop when I spotted a tree swaying about 100 yards in front of me.

My first thought was I had caught up to the elk. However, upon closer inspection, I realized it was a mule deer making a rub on the tree. I slid the rifle off my pack intending to fill my deer tag with this unsuspecting buck. However, as he lost interest in the tree and started up the ridge, I realized he was only a small buck. Granted, I’m not trophy hunter, but a 5-mile pack for a 3x3 mule deer seemed a little extreme. I watched him go on his way and wished him luck through the long winter. Maybe another season…..

I continued making a loop and came back around on Rob. He had found a great spot to overlook the drainage, but nothing had come through – go figure. It looked like the opera was almost up for both of us…

We headed back to camp and broke down the tent for the trek back to the airstrip. It was a relatively uneventful hike, and we made it back just before dark. It was starting to rain, so we pitched our tent on the porch of the Fish and Game cabin. Amazing that a flat deck was like heaven compared to what we had been sleeping on!

Day 11

Pat showed up to pick us up around 8 am. While we were waiting for the plane, one of Tyrell’s crew came by to ask if we had seen his horses. Apparently, they had forgotten to shut the pasture gate. Pat arrived with two Texas hunters that had booked a trip with Tyrell. When they got off the plane, they introduced themselves and asked where we were getting started. Rob and I chuckled and told them their guides were still wrangling up lost horses. Good luck boys! Our shredded gear and gaunt faces didn’t seem to deter these two overweight Cabelas poster children. They temp was above freezing, but they were still bundled up with parkas. Of course, the dangling price tags was a nice touch as well. If they only knew what they were in for!

We chatted for a few minutes about what we had seen – the Texans were after elk and deer and their guides finally arrived. We jumped in the plane with Pat and started the perilous climb out of the canyon. Once up, Pat pointed out some likely deer hunting spots before we were back to Challis and bumping down the landing strip.

We piled out of the plane and Rob wrapped Pat in a bear hug.

“Thank you”, Rob blubbered. Pat stood a little perplexed. “I didn’t think we’d ever make it out of there alive!”

We chatted with Pat and the owner Pete for awhile and then started our long trek back to Hagerman. It had been quite an adventure – one I’ll never forget. Now, only two more years until I can apply again for another bighorn sheep tag…………….

Controlled Hunt Draw Results - 2011 - Bighorn Sheep, Goat, Moose

2011-05-16T17:39:00.000-07:00

Results are ... here

Controlled Hunt Draw Results are out ... (Trophy Species)

2010-05-20T11:31:00.000-07:00

... here: http://fishandgame.idaho.gov/apps/ch/msg.cfm

If you got drawn for 27-1 ... whoa! ... let us know.

S.H.

...

Book on 27-1

2010-05-20T11:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, I did it, First Edition book on 27-1 ... with some stuff on Unit 26 also ... here

2009 Harvest Data ...

2010-05-19T11:34:00.000-07:00

2009 Bighorn Sheep Harvest Data, Idaho ... here: http://fishandgame.idaho.gov/apps/ch/09/rm_bighorn_sheep_harv.cfm

Couple Rams from 27-1

2009-11-06T16:53:00.000-08:00

I saw some pics floating the web of some rams taken via raft this fall ... I'd love to hear from the shooters.

Pics from Nate's (Early) Hunt

2009-09-18T21:59:00.001-07:00

NATE's HUNT ... 09 ...

2009-09-16T22:59:00.000-07:00

Bighorn Sheep Hunting Diary

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 ...

(This Story has been rolled into a book on Bighorn Sheep Hunting in the Idaho Wilderness, Jeff Filler, 2010 ... available here: http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/bighorn-sheep-hunting-in-the-idaho-wilderness/10284708 .)

Travis's Hunt ... 2009 ... (early)

2009-09-16T22:06:00.000-07:00

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!"

2008 Harvest Data ...

2009-03-25T17:27:00.000-07:00

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

2008 ...

2008-11-01T17:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-11-01T17:39:00.001-07:00

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.

Mark's 2006 Ram ...

2008-11-01T17:30:00.000-07:00

Pictured Mark (on the left) with his fine ram taken Sept 2006.

Rams taken in 27-1 are no easy matter.

Congrats Mark - you beat the odds!!!

Endnote: http://www.serioushunter.com/adventures/End-note-Mark.pdf

... 2004 ...

2008-09-26T15:46:00.000-07:00

My 2004 hunt is here ... http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/bighorn-sheep-hunting-in-the-idaho-wilderness/10284708

... and a few more pics ...

http://www.associatedcontent.com/slideshow/8829/rocky_mountain_bighorn_sheep_hunt.html?cat=11

Dedication ...

2008-09-26T15:37:00.000-07:00

Unit 27-1 for Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep is one of Idaho's toughest. Maybe it IS the toughest. Getting a tag is the easy part (relatively). Filling it is a whole different matter. When I first saw the Unit from its western edge - I was amazed. I had seen nothing like it (and I grew up in Idaho). Three hundred and fifty square miles ... roads only come to the edge in a few places. And the sheepies are at the other end. My thoughts at first were of hunting with an unloaded gun, or seeing if there are refunds on tags.