JRicke1032
FNG
Like many, I've been reading about everything I could trying to learn as much as I could about mountain hunting in general, coming from Illinois where a 200 ft bluff was a big deal on a deer drive. I've been successful on a couple of caribou and black bear but the odds were in favor this spring and I drew a killer tag for the Chugach Mountains right outside Anchorage. Why was it killer, well according to the military I was supposed to be packed up and on my way south in a couple days, so having close access for the hunt was crucial and being an any ram permit didn't hurt my odds either. Got some good hikes in this spring for bear I thought that I understood what I was getting myself into with packing for a considerable distance. Fast forward to Friday, partner #1 is deployed, partner #2 is going to Fairbanks with the family, and partner #3 is in a class that won't allow him the time to hunt the weekend with me. Oh well, strap on the boots and leave town with the quad (yes, the 4 letter word that probably ruins the rest of this story for most people but I say it made it harder really) and leave town for the trail. 4 hours, 2 hairy winch jobs up steep hills and I'm up above the trees. Hike in about 1.5 miles to where I want to set up camp and get this ball rolling on my first true mountain hunt.
After sitting until 9 pm and not seeing any movement I had back to the tent for supper. Around 9:30 I look out the tent for one last peek and notice a group of six rams about 3 miles up the drainage from me.
After watching them feed for 20 minutes I felt pretty confident they would be near that area come morning. Fast forward to 8:30 the next morning, back at my little viewing spot and I can see at least 2 rams working the bottom just up from where the sheep were last night. Perfect opportunity to get close when the go behind the ridge. So off I go and have a fairly uneventful hike into their area. Nothing moving around me except a couple arctic ground squirrels so I was fairly off my guard when I walk into the basin off a pretty big bowl that held the sheep from the night before. A quick glance reveals 2 off white specks feeding right to left about 400 yds away. Drop to the ground and hide behind a nice sized boulder. I noticed right off the bat that these 2 weren't quite what I was looking for, a small banana ram and a half-curl. Not wanting to continue on and spook them I resigned to lay for a while and learn a little from their behavior. After snacking on some trail mix about 20 mins later I peek up and find a third dot moving down towards them, a respectable 3/4 curl, that was right up my alley. Waited for him to fee uphill to his left and the young bucks moved off right, I slinked my way left and got behind the knoll the rams fed on the night before. Eased my way to the top and peeked over, there he is broadside and feeding, can it get any better. I move about 15 yds closer to a knife edge and take an uneasy prone position, line up my sights, and.....he's not there. Shoot, well I didn't say that but I bet you can fill in the word, turns out he decided to bed just at the perfect moment. This gave me the chance to set up in a better spot but after 2 hours of waiting he hadn't move from his lofty perch about 200 yds away and a solid couple hundred feet above. So, mistake #1, I decided to move to see if there was a better spot to make a bedded shot. This led into mistake #2 where I decided to leave my rifle, since I had it in a perfect rest, and wanted to be able to move a little more quiet along the ridge. No more than 20 seconds into this disaster he was up and had me pinned down behind a 6" rock. Stupid, buried my head in the lichens and decided to accept my fate that I had blown a decent stalk. After 15 mins of this he decides that vacating the area is a good idea. Once he slides behind a little cover I make a break for the rifle, knocking a few good boulders down the gravel washouts, and he starts to pick up the pace and begin to leave my shooting lane. Then something divine happened, he must caught my scent along the rising thermal because just as I had the crosshairs on him and tempted a shot, he put the brakes on and turned back to the right back over his original bed. I fired a first round and didn't notice anything wrong with him so racking a second, I placed the crosshairs back on the same spot and squeezed. Nothing again, slamming the third round in I watched the ram take his second or third step after the second shot and watched as his world collapsed. The back end dropped out and he rolled backwards, I could see a solid stream of blood pouring from his back side. Game over. After what seemed like an impossible amount of time my ram came to rest in the middle of a very sketchy ROCKSLIDE, pretty fitting.
Well everything after that is the tale of a guy getting in way over his head. 4 hrs, 3 miles, 1 sheep and a backpack that wasn't meant to carry that much weight, my opening day was over and I couldn't have asked for a more picturesque ending to the day. Hope you enjoyed this and I look forward to reading about everyone else's adventures. 
After sitting until 9 pm and not seeing any movement I had back to the tent for supper. Around 9:30 I look out the tent for one last peek and notice a group of six rams about 3 miles up the drainage from me. After watching them feed for 20 minutes I felt pretty confident they would be near that area come morning. Fast forward to 8:30 the next morning, back at my little viewing spot and I can see at least 2 rams working the bottom just up from where the sheep were last night. Perfect opportunity to get close when the go behind the ridge. So off I go and have a fairly uneventful hike into their area. Nothing moving around me except a couple arctic ground squirrels so I was fairly off my guard when I walk into the basin off a pretty big bowl that held the sheep from the night before. A quick glance reveals 2 off white specks feeding right to left about 400 yds away. Drop to the ground and hide behind a nice sized boulder. I noticed right off the bat that these 2 weren't quite what I was looking for, a small banana ram and a half-curl. Not wanting to continue on and spook them I resigned to lay for a while and learn a little from their behavior. After snacking on some trail mix about 20 mins later I peek up and find a third dot moving down towards them, a respectable 3/4 curl, that was right up my alley. Waited for him to fee uphill to his left and the young bucks moved off right, I slinked my way left and got behind the knoll the rams fed on the night before. Eased my way to the top and peeked over, there he is broadside and feeding, can it get any better. I move about 15 yds closer to a knife edge and take an uneasy prone position, line up my sights, and.....he's not there. Shoot, well I didn't say that but I bet you can fill in the word, turns out he decided to bed just at the perfect moment. This gave me the chance to set up in a better spot but after 2 hours of waiting he hadn't move from his lofty perch about 200 yds away and a solid couple hundred feet above. So, mistake #1, I decided to move to see if there was a better spot to make a bedded shot. This led into mistake #2 where I decided to leave my rifle, since I had it in a perfect rest, and wanted to be able to move a little more quiet along the ridge. No more than 20 seconds into this disaster he was up and had me pinned down behind a 6" rock. Stupid, buried my head in the lichens and decided to accept my fate that I had blown a decent stalk. After 15 mins of this he decides that vacating the area is a good idea. Once he slides behind a little cover I make a break for the rifle, knocking a few good boulders down the gravel washouts, and he starts to pick up the pace and begin to leave my shooting lane. Then something divine happened, he must caught my scent along the rising thermal because just as I had the crosshairs on him and tempted a shot, he put the brakes on and turned back to the right back over his original bed. I fired a first round and didn't notice anything wrong with him so racking a second, I placed the crosshairs back on the same spot and squeezed. Nothing again, slamming the third round in I watched the ram take his second or third step after the second shot and watched as his world collapsed. The back end dropped out and he rolled backwards, I could see a solid stream of blood pouring from his back side. Game over. After what seemed like an impossible amount of time my ram came to rest in the middle of a very sketchy ROCKSLIDE, pretty fitting. Well everything after that is the tale of a guy getting in way over his head. 4 hrs, 3 miles, 1 sheep and a backpack that wasn't meant to carry that much weight, my opening day was over and I couldn't have asked for a more picturesque ending to the day. Hope you enjoyed this and I look forward to reading about everyone else's adventures. 
