Well guys, I've been trying to get back to life around the "ranch" here on the East Coast. I've finally gotten a little time to put the story together. As some of you may remember, I had a Dall trip with Blackstone Outfitters of the Yukon back in 2009. The outfitters (Jim and Adrienne Fink) graciously offered a steeply discounted return trip since I was not successful that year (although I did get a grizzly). That years trip was very frustrating, and pushed me past my physical limit. I covered more miles than I care to remember and had all I could take, and still call it a vacation! With that said, I was determined to do all I could to make sure that if 10 days of forced march were required, that I would be mentally and physically ready. The mental part was the big one!
Blackstone has a camp on the Dempster Highway in central Yukon. Some hunters drive to base camp, but both times I chartered Alkan Air out of Whitehorse, after a nice stay at the Edgewater Hotel. I met a guide who's day job is conservation officer in Alberta (Paul Weisser), and his first words to me in the Edgewater, were "I'm not guiding you, I want an old fat guy". I'm used to taking these guys with a grain of salt, and as I was to later learn, Paul has been in on over 200 sheep kills, and is hard as a nail at 54, still carrying a Trapper Nelson pack. Anyway, we all got to camp (me, Paul, and Greg from Wisconsin-another hunter) and met some outgoing hunters, one successful one from Mexico, "Oscar", and one from Wisconsin who was skunked (guides say he quit). I was soon all licensed up (grizzly and moose licenses as well, available at a hefty trophy fee) and flying out where my guide Ryan was waiting, at the foot of a locally named site, named after a previous hunter, Neimark Mountain. Ryan had flown in first and had set up camp and assessed the grizzly situation (tracks, nothing fresh). The tent was a nice three man Sierra Designs model that proved waterproof and windproof and very spacious, since I was used to a two man tent! Ryan had spotted rams on the back side of the range to our east, and before we went to bed that night, we spotted rams to the west. The plan was to stay planted at that tent site and pick a direction each day to radiate from and look for a sheep. I have dreams of a record book ram, fellas, but I was skunked here once, so I was thinking I would take the first one that bested the 37"er I got in 2007. We went to bed that night with very gusty winds but above freezing, no precip.
The next morning, the test began, the day before my 52nd birthday. Ryan had made the command decision to head up our valley to the north, and to glass the range to the west. We stripped our packs down to daypack mode and headed out. Before long, Ryan spotted a lone ram sitting in a bed at the top to the west, and a plan was formed. This was roughly where rams were spotted on the way in 24 hours ago. I was told the plane had gone way out of the way to keep from spooking them, and thus Ryan didn't have any idea if there was a shooter in the bunch. We were going up to check it out. We continued up the valley to the north until out of sight of the sentinel ram, then began our way up. I think the altitude was about 5000+ feet at the top. No matter how I hard I pre-trip cardio, I cannot keep up with these friggin guides when the steepy-steep starts. Anyway, we start pussy-footin' along the top after about a two hour climp, checking each drainage on the backside. Ryan would sneak over first for the look and see, then he'd motion me along. On the third such drainage, he slid back down to me saying he'd found my ram! So up we both go for a look, me with my spanking new Swaro 10X42 EL Rangefinders.............800 yards. Now, Ryan, unlike every guide I've every been with, had a really crappy spotting scope, it looked like something Capt Hook might have been carrying, I checked it for Civil War surplus markings, even! I'm thinking of my Swaro spotter I left at home for weight considerations, and kind of regretting not bringing it. I don't know how he can see anything through that scope, but one things for sure, we need to get closer. This getting closer process is were he nick-named me "two-step Donnie". As in, takes two steps before he rests! Now I resemble that remark! I take at least 5 steps! We are moving as fast as possible, Ryan says "Doc, I need to be honest with you, your chances of getting that ram are way higher if we get there fast". That's guide-speak for move-yer-azz! We pick our spot to crest for a peek, and we do it on our bellys, him first. Thumbs up. This is them moment where my doctor training comes in handy. What?, you say! I used to have a surgery professor that would tell us that when the do-do hits the fan, first TAKE YOUR OWN PULSE. So I'm thinking rounds chambered? safety position? scope all set up? mentally prepared to chamber another round?, don't point the rifle at the guide, don't make a sound (wedding ring on the stock, etc), wind direction? All this going through my mind as I crest and see the 8 rams bedded below us all looking away down hill, with the wind blowing 10mph gusts cross. The two biggest rams were very close to each other both in position and in size. It was very hard to tell which ram was more mature, with the bigger curl. Ryan makes the determination on which to shoot, and we wait, and wait, and wait. The shooter ram has got to put a tiny bit of distance between himself and the others for a safe shot. This is where the funniest thing go through your mind...........
I lurk sometimes on the optics forum on the 'fire, and the arguments are rabid sometimes so I never join in much. I've got a Swaro Z5 scope with 3.5-18X magnification. I've got the yardage pegged right at 200yds. The swaro EL's have angle adjustment, and have read the actual distance at 237, but the horizontal distance at 200. I have the scope set at 18X. Frankly, I can pick out at hair to shoot at, but I have enough time to be concerned that if they got up and ran suddenly, that I might have a hard time finding the right ram, or any ram at all at that power. That's when I started thinking of all the hunters who like the fixed 6X (Brad) scope. I dialed it down to six. Now I can see all the rams, and all the surrounding country-side. It didn't feel comfortable to me (have shot so much at targets on 18X), so I slowly crept up to 10X, this seemed about right. Finally my guy got up to circle, made the distance from his fellows, and Ryan gave the go ahead. Bang with the NULA .30-06, and story over. One shot through the thorax, midway up and the ram stood there for a moment, the blood loss visible through our optics, no second shot necessary. The rest of the band just hung around watching for the longest. Down in the far valley a group of lambs and ewes were undisturbed. There were more rams about a mile out that we'd spotted earlier that were to be tomorrows subject if we hadn't seen this band. They were undisturbed. I just laid there, stunned, where Ryan stood and starting wooping the victory dance. It took us about an hour to get down through the rocks to the sheep, but things went much faster once Ryan showed me how to "shale-surf"....WOW, that was fun. Many photos followed, then the skinning and quartering. A light rain started, and once done, Ryan pointed out our path home. I had my day gear, and I carried a ham, shoulder, ribs and backstraps and tenderloins, and Ryan got the rest. It was as we descended with the load that I mentally questioned whether or not I could do this alone. I hate to think I couldn't, but man was that load heavy. I suppose that boned out, I could have moved the meat, horns and cape, maybe! It was about two miles to the tent, and we were eating sheep meat by the fire that night.
The plan was after the proper cape management the next day to go down the valley and look for moose, maybe a bear. To cut to the chase, after that day and the next, seeing nothing but beautiful country, I decided to take the next supercub ride out of there headed for home. Several concerns were playing a role here:
1. already have a nice moose and grizzly mounted at home
2. could use the "trophy fee" towards next years hunt, or taxes, or college education, or retirement, or............
3. mucho man-points with the wife for coming home early
4. getting back to work a week early cuts down on the overall cost of the hunt the most, so
I take my ride out of there to base camp instead to further hunting grounds. Great trip, shower, female cooked meal! Life's good.
Later that night, Jim asks me to do him a favor, and pick up another party of guides and hunters that are floating the Ogilvie River hunting moose. An Austrian and his 18yo daughter and Jim's son Logan and a lady guide(think she was more a horse girl than a guide). Well I drove about an hour up the Dempster Highway till I got to the gravel bar, picking my way out to the rivers edge in the Suburban (noting 4WD on the floor). Well three hours pass, and I start to wonder if this is a Yukon "snipe-hunt", jokes on me! The sun is going down and its pitch black, and I'm wondering if I can find my way back to the blacktop across the sand/gravel bar, also wondering if the river rises much????
Soon then I see a light out on the river, and I flash the headlights on the Chevy, and I'm to later learn, the inhabitants of that raft were beyond overjoyed to see those lights. Suffice to say that they had scored on about a 60" moose, yes, it was the Austrian girl, Elanore, couldn't have weighted 110lbs (oops 55Kg), who shoot the moose. I was in clean clothes and tennis shoes not expecting such, but the weight of the quarters and the available help prodded me into offering my services. We got all quarters in and the rack and cape, but I was a wreck, oh well. On the trip home the Northern Lights put on as spectacular a show as I've ever seen. No television or video can tell this tale, you just have to see it.
The flying home was uneventful, but I did share the charter with the Austrians (two men in their 50's and their 18yo daughters). The Austrian teenagers were off to "university" this fall and their dad were old friends from the airforce. They had been vacationing from South America to Central America and on to this moose hunt. The girls confided in me that they couldn't wait to get back to Vienna for a proper meal at McDonalds, hmmmmmm
Don

Last edited by docdb; 09/12/12.