The next three days turned out to be quite uneventful. We saw 15 rams, but none were legal. A legal ram has to either have a full curl or be eight years old. After glassing, listening to Johnny’s guide stories, eating and sleeping for three days we were picked up and moved to another location. It was another amazing flight. The plane flew low over mountain passes and close to cliff edges. It was another thrilling ride, more exciting than a roller coaster. We landed where Canyon Creek Glacier starts, surrounded on three sides by tall rugged mountains covered in snow and ice. After finding the most level spot on a mound of granite rocks we set up camp. It was raining as we secured the tent and put our packs under tarps. After a delicious Mountain House meal we retired. My spirits were lifted at the new prospects of this area and I had a hard time falling asleep, wondering what the next day would bring.
The rain had stopped during the night and the morning of Friday the 13th greeted us with overhanging clouds that threatened rain. After an hour of hiking it started to rain and the rain gear went on for the rest of the day.
We rounded the base of the mountain which opened into the canyon the rams were spotted in. One of the rams was bedded down in plain view. We backtracked to avoid being seen and went behind a hill of rickety rocks. From there we hiked to the middle of the canyon opening and peeked around to see where the ram was. We were clear and started toward the rams. The entire path was hiking over pile upon pile of rocks that the glacier had dumped in its wake. We came to the base of a glacier and without skipping a beat Johnny started up its steep face. I hesitated for a moment, concerned that I had to hike up a chunk of slick ice in the rain, then started up. There were rocks frozen into the glacier that provided good footholds up the 100 foot slope. Our next obstacle was a glacial stream five feet deep and at the narrowest part five feet wide with water roaring down a two-three foot channel. At one spot there was a small rock island we slid onto and climbed up the other side. After crossing a field of rocks and ice we came to a steep rock slide with cliffs jutting up the last thirty feet. On the other side was the grassy slope the rams were supposed to be on. We slowly made it to the cliffs and found a path of dirt about four feet wide. We started up the very steep chute. By gripping the rocks on my right and planting my walking stick on the left I clawed my way up the last obstacle.
Johnny spotted a ram bedded down at 350 yards that was legal. He stood up and I fired, he appeared hit. The final shot hit the spot and he was down. Thick fog rolled in and I would not have been able to shoot again.
I started shaking as the excitement of the moment settled in. I had just shot a dall sheep and successfully completed a hunt of a lifetime. I thanked Johnny and we hiked to my ram. He was beautiful with a perfect white coat and wide sweeping horns. I stood in awe at the beauty of the mountains around me and was so grateful that I had the opportunity to hunt these amazing animals. It is a hunt I will never forget.
We loaded our packs, Johnny with the meat and me with the horns and hide, and headed down the same chute we came up. We dropped the meat at the stream crossing and headed back to camp. It was a long hike back and I was ready to get out of my wet clothes and crash in my sleeping bag for the night. We ate the celebatory raspberry crumble provided by Mountain House and were out for the night. We went back in the morning with the sun shining down and picked up the meat. When we made it back to camp Johnny cooked up tenderloin on a flat rock. It was so amazing to eat fresh meat after six days of eating Mountain House, trail mix, and jerky.
Paul & Lonnie came to get us at 4:00 and we were on our way back to the lodge. I told Paul I was in no hurry so we went for a longer flight scouting for more sheep. He flew me low to the ground, close to cliffs and banked hard a few times to get my stomache rolling. I loved it and never felt nauseous. My hunt was coming to a close. I was having mixed feelings. I was excited to get home and see my kids, but I was not ready to have it end.
The rain had stopped during the night and the morning of Friday the 13th greeted us with overhanging clouds that threatened rain. After an hour of hiking it started to rain and the rain gear went on for the rest of the day.
We rounded the base of the mountain which opened into the canyon the rams were spotted in. One of the rams was bedded down in plain view. We backtracked to avoid being seen and went behind a hill of rickety rocks. From there we hiked to the middle of the canyon opening and peeked around to see where the ram was. We were clear and started toward the rams. The entire path was hiking over pile upon pile of rocks that the glacier had dumped in its wake. We came to the base of a glacier and without skipping a beat Johnny started up its steep face. I hesitated for a moment, concerned that I had to hike up a chunk of slick ice in the rain, then started up. There were rocks frozen into the glacier that provided good footholds up the 100 foot slope. Our next obstacle was a glacial stream five feet deep and at the narrowest part five feet wide with water roaring down a two-three foot channel. At one spot there was a small rock island we slid onto and climbed up the other side. After crossing a field of rocks and ice we came to a steep rock slide with cliffs jutting up the last thirty feet. On the other side was the grassy slope the rams were supposed to be on. We slowly made it to the cliffs and found a path of dirt about four feet wide. We started up the very steep chute. By gripping the rocks on my right and planting my walking stick on the left I clawed my way up the last obstacle.
Johnny spotted a ram bedded down at 350 yards that was legal. He stood up and I fired, he appeared hit. The final shot hit the spot and he was down. Thick fog rolled in and I would not have been able to shoot again.
I started shaking as the excitement of the moment settled in. I had just shot a dall sheep and successfully completed a hunt of a lifetime. I thanked Johnny and we hiked to my ram. He was beautiful with a perfect white coat and wide sweeping horns. I stood in awe at the beauty of the mountains around me and was so grateful that I had the opportunity to hunt these amazing animals. It is a hunt I will never forget.
We loaded our packs, Johnny with the meat and me with the horns and hide, and headed down the same chute we came up. We dropped the meat at the stream crossing and headed back to camp. It was a long hike back and I was ready to get out of my wet clothes and crash in my sleeping bag for the night. We ate the celebatory raspberry crumble provided by Mountain House and were out for the night. We went back in the morning with the sun shining down and picked up the meat. When we made it back to camp Johnny cooked up tenderloin on a flat rock. It was so amazing to eat fresh meat after six days of eating Mountain House, trail mix, and jerky.
Paul & Lonnie came to get us at 4:00 and we were on our way back to the lodge. I told Paul I was in no hurry so we went for a longer flight scouting for more sheep. He flew me low to the ground, close to cliffs and banked hard a few times to get my stomache rolling. I loved it and never felt nauseous. My hunt was coming to a close. I was having mixed feelings. I was excited to get home and see my kids, but I was not ready to have it end.
