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This has been the most enriching, and at the same time frustrating, experience in my life as a hunter...

We found a legal ram on the first day and put a stalk on him but had to quit due to a shift in the wind direction. Under miserable weather we could not find him till the third day, and it was 9pm. It took us two and a half hours to get into position but a very dense fog rolled in and I could not get a shot. As far as we were from our camp we decided to spend the night there, and a miserable night it was, without a shelter, stove, food, etc.

In the morning of the fourth day, early as it was, the sheep had already moved from where they had bedded down for the night and we could not find them. We looked in every pocket that could hide them but they were gone. We made a stupid mistake, one that would cost me my ram, and it was to leave the packs behind to look over one last ridge... We did not find them there, either, but when we were there just thinking on what we should do next, the ram suddenly appeared on top of us. We lied down flat on the ground to look at him first and check that it was our ram, which he was. I did not have the right angle for such an uphill shot, even resting the forend of the rifle on top of my standing binoculars and of my hat, and when the ram started trotting away I hasted an offhand shot and wounded him, too high in his back but without breaking his spine. With another shot I grazed his shoulder making him a superficial wound.

It would have been an easy shot, had I had my back pack with me to lean the rifle over it and get the appropriate angle. A stupid mistake, the kind of which you make when you are tired and loose your focus.

What followed was a nightmare, with three and a half days climbing every mountain in our sector, looking for my ram. We left no stone unturned and all I can say is that we worked hard till the last minute of the last day, getting back to the tent as late as 2:20am and that I never quit.

Never surrender!

On the sixth day, the only day that the sky cleared a bit, we found the ram. We climbed the back side of mountain where he was bedded -1,800ft of loose shale in an almost vertical climb- trying to get on top of the ram, only to find, three and a half hours later, that he was gone.

I really felt like Someone, Up There, was playing games with us.

In a place where we stopped to change our socks, I took some photos of the mountains with my camera, leaving it behind and loosing it with all my pictures, so I do not even have pictures of my hunt, only those that my hunting colleagues took with their cameras at base camp.

I have my memories to cherish, though.

BBerg.

Thanks for sharing. I suspect many of us can relate, on some level, in terms of hunts where everything went wrong. It helps to take what rewards you can from such trips, and consider it "paying the dues" towards a future better outcome.

Ouch! That just sucks.

I've learned that "never leave your pack" lesson... a couple of times. It's such a great idea until it isn't.

Tough deal. It will only make your next hunt that much more gratifying.

Ugggghhhhh......I feel for you my friend.
While the ram may have escaped, the experience and memory never will.

I completely feel your pain. Last year in the Yukon, it was as if some heavenly being was playing games. I've got pictures of the blisters to prove it (I did get a nice Grizz out of it).
Next time,
Don

BBerg,
Sorry to hear about your bad luck. Hunting can be so frustrationg and maintaining a level of focus required to hunt sheep has to be mentally challenging. I have left my pack to complete a stalk but will never leave it again after reading your post. Thanks for sharing your experience.

Dave

BBerg,
Thanks for sharing your story, even if it isn't one that we usually see here that focuses on only the successes and never the failures. We've all been there at one point or another if you've spent any time hunting at all. Unfortunately, we can't rewind the clock and call a do over. I suppose that is one of the reasons we treasure the successes so much. At least I do. I hate wounding and losing an animal, especially when you are on a guided, expensive hunt. Happened to me in Africa on a Cape Buffalo and I would have pulled my own toenails out to not have had that happen. Had my camera stolen on that same trip and lost all of my hunt photos as well. You'll bounce back from this, I'm sure.

Test

Isn't it amazing how those rams can just disappear never to be found for days? Sounds like a tough hunt but one that taught you a valuable lesson. Better luck next time BBerg.

Thanks for sharing. Tough hunt.

Sounds like a hard hunt and bummer about the camera.
Better luck next time.

Learned the pack lesson the same way, but needing the additional ammo stashed there to finish off a poorly shot caribou at long range, with the darned thing on a rock pile a good quarter-mile away. I now carry extra rounds on the rifle butt.

Twice with the rifle! Once I was just going 50 yards away to take a dump- I'd finished by the time the sheep came running past, spooked by other hunters on the mountain, but was still out of reach of the rifle and pack. The other time I left the rifle where I'd taken a break- why I have no idea, because I had all the rest of the gear with me when I went just to the top of the ridge about 100 yards away to peek the other side. I suspect that I just forgot to pick it up- I really don't remember at this late date.

I do remember it took over an hour to find that sucker again- then only because I caught a glimpse of the red plastic shell holder taped to the butt. I seldom leave anything behind for any reason for even a short time anymore, but if I do, it gets a foot-long piece of neon-pink flagging tape tied to it.

Bummer about the camera.

A couple years back an acquaintance was bow hunting caribou along the haul road and left his binocs on a hummock while he made the final crawl (they were uncomfortable against his chest), certain he could find it again. It's still there, and knowing Mike, it was expensive!

Worst night I ever spent was caused by dropping packs to make the final stalk on sheep. Just about the time the sheep died the fog rolled in. We cut up the sheep and then shivered and shuddered through a rainy night and most of the next day until we finally found the frigging packs.

I have never dropped a pack since and never will.

Threads like this are a lot more refreshing to read than all the political wailing and flailing that goes on in here... and a lot more instructive! You can bet there's a few future sheep hunters reading this who will never, ever drop their packs.

It's a lesson I could never can't learn by reading, but it would be nice to think that someone else could.

First time I learned it was with R's bear Art!

Last time was last weekend....

Too soon old, too late smart...

...Story of my life.

Confuse-us say: "If one is to be stupid, he best be tuff."

Done, and Done.

Always ping the pack dump on the Garmin.

I can fully sympathize. We had to call our trip off early because I got blisters on both feet and my big toes were bruised to the point of me losing my toenails. The Doc said my boots were up to 1 size too small and too narrow. Sure was an expensive plane ride this year. Gotta get some new boots for the next trip too - OUCH!!!!
Bear in Fairbanks