Coming into this season, I felt an enormous amount of pressure; pressure on multiple fronts. Having my brothers up was a big part of it. It was Cody's second go around for sheep in the Brooks and after our rough year, I knew we had to get him a sheep and have a good time. It was Mitch's first trip up there and he wanted to experience the adventure of a mountain hunt in the Brooks. A ton of work went into planning this trip and it worked out about as good as I could have hoped.
But, during flight out I couldn't help but feel defeated myself. Sheep hunting is something I had always dreamed of. I mean, this is what I wanted to do more than anything. Yes, I got to go on 4 hunts and I got a great ram on my second trip into the mountains. But with the extreme let down of the first year and two more unsuccessful hunts, it was not how I wanted to end things.
With some quick planning and help from a friend, I was able to piece together a last minute trip. The guy helping me out, Chuck, said he had a guy that was itching to go sheep hunting and thought we'd mesh well together. So I agreed to meet him and we hit it off pretty good. Corey was a pilot and had his own plane, but hadn't been to the area and he didn't feel comfortable flying another person as he hasn't been flying all that long. So we agreed to use a flight service and were to fly out of Willow, just north of Anchorage about an hour. The weather had been wonderful and the day before we were to fly out, it turned bad. We waited three days before we could fly out. The pilot didn't want to take us to where we originally wanted to go because there was a guide operating off of that strip. I got the impression that they had an under-the-table deal with eachother.
I kept asking about other spots and he had an excuse for each one and why he didn't want to go there. Weather was a serious factor in where we could go and it limited us greatly. We had one chance at one strip and I said that it was better to at least try than to sit at home and wish I was at least sheep hunting. So we headed out.
The flight out was good until we neared the airstrip. It began raining and the ceiling dropped fast. We were lucky enough to get to the airstrip and set up camp in the rain before heading out. With rain gear on and packs fully loaded, we plodded along the river bed towards the glacial valley ahead. It was an interesting hike in and tough as we didn't have a map or a real idea of what was ahead of us. We weren't prepared to go into this area as it wasn't even on our list of places to go.
We finally reached the glacial moraine and set up our camp on a lumpy slanted slope just as it began to rain. I don't know about my partner, Corey, but I slept pretty darn good! It had been a pretty tough hike into where we decided to camp.
The next morning, we ate a quick meal and packed up camp before we headed further in. We decided on a narrow cut on the side of the moraine, instead of going over the jumbled rock and scattered sink holes on top. It was slow going but eventually we popped up on top with a view of the glacier and the valley ahead.
We spotted quite a few sheep but they were all ewes and lambs. We hiked further and checked a side drainage and it was seemingly devoid of life. The terrain was unlike anything I'd encountered while hunting. The sheer steepness of the mountainsides and the glacier made navigating a nightmare. There were so many places that we simply could not go. We weren't prepared for glaciers either so we didn't bring crampons.
Feeling a little dejected at our situation, we back tracked and set up camp in nice flat spot down in the moraine that sheltered us from the wind. As we were setting up, it began to rain and we hunkered down. We did get some breaks in the weather and we glassed the hillsides when we could. I spotted one lone sheep high up and put the spotting scope on it. It was a ram and looked like it had potential but it was just too tough to tell in the low light and fog that was creeping in and out.
It rained all night and the entire next day. We stayed under the tarp or in the tent most the time, getting out and stretching when it let up. The ram was around the whole day but was too far to tell if he was legal, but it appeared that he wasn't quite there.
The next morning we woke to clear blue skies and we began to break camp with the idea that we'd head across the moraine and climb into a drainage to see what was back there. The ram was still around and with better visibility, it looked like we had a 7/8's type curl ram, so not legal. We began weaving our way across the moraine and finally reached the other side, now the fun began!
It was steep and we had our entire camp on our backs, 55 lbs or so. In all, we ascended 2000 feet and set up camp on a little bench. The wind was terrible and the only spot to set up that had shelter was on a bit of a slope. We checked the back of the drainage that afternoon and found nothing. Looking around, we were out of options it seemed, there was no where else to go. Plus, with us losing three days on the front of the trip, we were running out of time as well.
So we decided to pack up in the morning and get back to the airstrip while the weather was still good. It was a brutal trek back, descending 2000 feet with 55+ lbs, crossing a glacial moraine for miles, navigating a terrible hillside through alders until we finally hit the river bed for some easier walking. It would have felt a lot better with a heavier pack with some sheep horns on top.
We reached the strip and had a couple hours to kill before the plane arrived. We glassed back up the main drainage and watched three rams on the hillside. It was unknown if any were legal, just too far to tell. It was impossible to get to where they were as there was a raging swollen river between us and a seemingly impenetrable jungle of alders beyond that. Had we more time, we could have asked to get moved up to where we wanted to go in the first place since it was clear blue skies. It just seemed like it wasn't meant to be.
After a couple hours of waiting, we heard the familiar buzz of the plane coming to get us. This time, flying back I knew there'd be no second chances, this was it. My final tour in the mountains chasing Dall rams. Oh well, I have a fantastic ram on my wall and many many stories and memories from all the hunts combined. Maybe someday I'll find my way back into the sheep mountains once more...
On a side note, Corey just retired after 26 years in the Air Force and had a bunch of time on his hands. He felt more confident flying the area after our trip and he loaded up solo and flew up just a bit further from where we hunted. He hunted extremely hard and after 5 days of hunting, found a legal ram. A very long and difficult stalk put him in range of his first sheep. He killed a great ram and did the whole thing solo.
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