It was hard to believe when I saw the draw results this year. I got drawn for a late season bighorn sheep tag, in Alberta's 438C zone. This is the areas around the famous Cadomin mine. And since I had entered the wrong draw code, I got the last of the three ten-day seasons, generally considered the best. So instead of hunting sheep on Sept 4, this year's general opener, my opening day move to November 21st. Months of worrying about cold-weather gear ensued. After visiting the area twice I was not concerned about the physical part, just about the cold, the wind, the waiting game, and pressure from other hunters. Luckily I got good advice from a lot of people, and a hunting partner who vowed to be there from Day 2 till Day 10 if required.
I arrived on Tuesday evening, for the Thursday opener. Wednesday I looked around at the low lying areas of two of the major hunting areas, found sheep in one, and none in the other. Well, they may have been there, but the hurricane-force winds blew up so much drift snow that it was hard to stand up, let alone use binoculars. Opening morning the wind were a little less and and the temperature had risen some, up to about 24 degrees below zero on the Celsius scale. I found rams on the mine (no hunting), and caught up with another tag holder and his son on the mountain. This was not a day for sitting still long, so we retreated fairly quickly.
The second day, Kyle (working on two hours of sleep after driving up after work the previous day) and I climbed to the saddle and found ourselves alone. We saw one ram, with a long and a short horn that didn't excite me, but seeing any ram off the mine was a treat. The next day we expected more pressure, because the access road to the other area had drifted full of snow and could not be used. Just as we left the parking area, a truck with horse trailer showed up. One of the lucky tag holders had hired a guide. We gave'r a rip but they caught up with us, just before the turn-off that lead to the high country. Luckily we were the fitter crew and we grabbed our vantage point long before they arrived. The wind was bearable, but picking up noticeably.
A little later the guide, tag holder and his friend passed above us, without seeing us. As they disappeared over the ridge, the ram from the day before showed up with some ewes. Not much later Kyle, whose eyes are considerably better than mine apparently, noticed the trio sitting beside some rocks, taking aim at the ram. It was exciting watching them get ready, and finally, when the wind temporarily subsided and the ram was free from the ewes, witness the shots. They yelled and we yelled too, much to their surprise. We walked over, congratulated, took photos, etc. Great stuff! The mountain gods must not have been pleased however, because they unleashed a hellish wind storm. Several time Kyle and I got knocked over, and found ourselves sprawling in the scree. We did see a group of ewes followed by one ram climb all the way up to the back wall of the basin and disappear behind a giant slab of black rock. More rams off the mine! Good omen.
Day four the mountain was ours. No sign of the husband and wife that were camped in there somewhere, they likely hunted the adjacent small basin the last few days. Some ewes and rams followed us into the basin, but turned around before the crossed out of the mine. We continued to the high ridge, and quickly found a group of four or five ram (I don't remember which). In them was Chipper, a ram with a long left horn that was chipped. At first glance we had called him a little on the small side, but today killing him felt like the right thing to do. Stalking just on the shadow side of the ridge was easy, and we found them maybe 40 yards behind some rocks.
As we approached the dead ram it appeared like the winds stopped and the sun came out from behind the clouds. Chipper was bigger and heavier than we had thought. The load out was nothing short of painful, but we managed. With the long horn measuring a quarter to half an inch under 40, and basis over 16", he will score just around the 180 mark. What an adventure, what a treat to be surrounded by so many sheep, and great rams every day. I'm happy I got to experience some of the nastiest winds I've ever encountered in my life, I'm happy with the frostbite on my face, but I'm even happier the mountain granted us a few hours reprieve, allowing us to cape and debone in perfect weather. I cannot imagine doing the same thing when it is minus 20 and the winds are over 100 kilometer an hour.
Frans
I arrived on Tuesday evening, for the Thursday opener. Wednesday I looked around at the low lying areas of two of the major hunting areas, found sheep in one, and none in the other. Well, they may have been there, but the hurricane-force winds blew up so much drift snow that it was hard to stand up, let alone use binoculars. Opening morning the wind were a little less and and the temperature had risen some, up to about 24 degrees below zero on the Celsius scale. I found rams on the mine (no hunting), and caught up with another tag holder and his son on the mountain. This was not a day for sitting still long, so we retreated fairly quickly.
The second day, Kyle (working on two hours of sleep after driving up after work the previous day) and I climbed to the saddle and found ourselves alone. We saw one ram, with a long and a short horn that didn't excite me, but seeing any ram off the mine was a treat. The next day we expected more pressure, because the access road to the other area had drifted full of snow and could not be used. Just as we left the parking area, a truck with horse trailer showed up. One of the lucky tag holders had hired a guide. We gave'r a rip but they caught up with us, just before the turn-off that lead to the high country. Luckily we were the fitter crew and we grabbed our vantage point long before they arrived. The wind was bearable, but picking up noticeably.
A little later the guide, tag holder and his friend passed above us, without seeing us. As they disappeared over the ridge, the ram from the day before showed up with some ewes. Not much later Kyle, whose eyes are considerably better than mine apparently, noticed the trio sitting beside some rocks, taking aim at the ram. It was exciting watching them get ready, and finally, when the wind temporarily subsided and the ram was free from the ewes, witness the shots. They yelled and we yelled too, much to their surprise. We walked over, congratulated, took photos, etc. Great stuff! The mountain gods must not have been pleased however, because they unleashed a hellish wind storm. Several time Kyle and I got knocked over, and found ourselves sprawling in the scree. We did see a group of ewes followed by one ram climb all the way up to the back wall of the basin and disappear behind a giant slab of black rock. More rams off the mine! Good omen.
Day four the mountain was ours. No sign of the husband and wife that were camped in there somewhere, they likely hunted the adjacent small basin the last few days. Some ewes and rams followed us into the basin, but turned around before the crossed out of the mine. We continued to the high ridge, and quickly found a group of four or five ram (I don't remember which). In them was Chipper, a ram with a long left horn that was chipped. At first glance we had called him a little on the small side, but today killing him felt like the right thing to do. Stalking just on the shadow side of the ridge was easy, and we found them maybe 40 yards behind some rocks.
As we approached the dead ram it appeared like the winds stopped and the sun came out from behind the clouds. Chipper was bigger and heavier than we had thought. The load out was nothing short of painful, but we managed. With the long horn measuring a quarter to half an inch under 40, and basis over 16", he will score just around the 180 mark. What an adventure, what a treat to be surrounded by so many sheep, and great rams every day. I'm happy I got to experience some of the nastiest winds I've ever encountered in my life, I'm happy with the frostbite on my face, but I'm even happier the mountain granted us a few hours reprieve, allowing us to cape and debone in perfect weather. I cannot imagine doing the same thing when it is minus 20 and the winds are over 100 kilometer an hour.
Frans
