Mission Report: Ewe Sheep Hunt 2019
TLDR: I fought the mountain, and it royally kicked my butt. No sheep to show for it. Trip was still a success. God is good, and I am a lucky man. I've got a couple years to regroup as I build points to try again.
Full Report:
This was trip #2. Trip #1 (you may recall) ended on the way up as a horse went nuclear and tried to take me down with it. I limped down with a busted knee and an almost dead horse (who is perfectly fine now... of course).
Attempt #2- going up solo, no horses or help. Hiked 6.5 miles after work on Sunday. Pack was way too heavy, legs were prepared for a horse hunt not packing in solo. I need better prep and lighter gear. I wrapped my knee and it held up, but required soaking in several streams I crossed to keep swelling manageable. I set up a quick cold camp and got a few hours sleep in the rain.
Monday: got up super early and finished the other 3 miles. Set up camp, and then made the final butt kicking ascent up the unforgiving rocks to glass my target bowl. I was disheartened to see an elk camp set up right in the freaking middle of the bowl, in a meadow they should have been hunting. They are packing up, but the damage is done. No trace of an animal in sight.
I hike several more miles that day, checking the neighboring bowls, drainages, and escape terrain- to no avail. I hike back to camp to regroup and refuel.
Tuesday: I know this will be a miserable hike. I get up a extra early and make a hot breakfast, and get my mind right for the day. 2 miles to the saddle, up and over, then a couple more miles around the rim to get to the next bowl. Sit down and spend a long time picking the rocks apart- nada. I hike over to another bowl, nada. I'm basically between 10,500-11,750 most of the day. Crested over 12 twice. I found snow from last winter in several places. We are only a few weeks (maybe less) away from new snow. It strikes me just how far up I have come.
I finally decide to scramble up a peak so I can see the most country possible. I spot some sheep, or at least tiny moving brown dots that should be sheep and not deer. They are so freaking far away, I'm not entirely sure they are in my unit (sheep units are different than elk/deer, and my area has 2 units that are fairly skinny at one point). I start adding up the miles to the sheep, back to camp, and then several trips up/down to get sheep & camp out. I don't even know if these are ewes or a band of rams- they are so far back in an area they are likely to be rams. No way to know without covering the miles. But I am sure that the Game Warden would not look kindly on me harvesting a ram on my ewe tag.
I know what needs to be done- but sadly, there isn't the time. Too many miles, too many trips, not enough legs. Maybe with a buddy I would have a shot at getting it all down safely and ethically. But not solo. I am forced to face harsh reality and make the "business decision" I hate. I head back to camp, cursing the horse who ruined the 5 consecutive days that I had previously blocked out for this hunt.
I find a consolation grouse on the way back down, and while cooking it I get my heart straightened out. I'm a lucky lucky lucky man just to even be up here, let alone have a tag to chase a Rocky Mountain sheep. God grants me a fantastic sunset and great weather for the evening. I am thankful and blessed. My legs are absolute jello, but my heart is light. I slept well that night (which is rare for me in the woods).
Wednesday I wake up and hike back up the rocky ridge one last time, and spend 3 hours glassing the bowl just incase a stupid sheep happens to wander close by. No such luck. My deadline to exit is here. I return to camp, take a power nap, break camp, then pack it all back down.
For as long as anyone can remember, that bowl has ALWAYS held tons of ewes & lambs. They simply aren't there this year. Either it was a harsh winter and die off, or they got pushed out (my best guess). They will be back in there soon enough- it is too much perfect (and unique) terrain for them not to be. I sense many scouting trips are in my future.
I'll lick my wounds, save points for a few years, hopefully get the scratch together to invest in some lighter gear, and do it better. Anyone want to tag along next time?!?! Maybe we can find my legs wherever they fell off up there...