The Last Great Sheep Hunt

[adventure907]

I've always enjoyed reading the tales from other sheep hunters and I appreciate that they took the time to share, so I thought I'd take a little time and share the story of one of my favorite hunts. It was a grind, it had high's and low's, but in the end it was a trip I'll never forget.

 

[adventure907]

I’ve been very fortunate in my hunting and guiding career that I’ve been on many Dall sheep hunts. To me, a Dall Sheep hunt is the pinnacle of mountain hunting in North America. Not only are Dall Sheep one of the most beautiful animals to roam God’s green earth, but the trials and tribulations involved in a hunt for Dall sheep make the effort, the sweat, the blood and the tears all the more meaningful.

While all of the many sheep hunts I’ve participated in hold a special place in my memories, one hunt in particular stands out as the most demanding and rewarding of them all. This is the story of that hunt.

As many of my hunts do, it started outside the small town of Tok, Alaska. Meeting my new hunting partner for the first time, Charlie was an affable fellow, enthusiastic and excited for the adventure he was about to embark on. Even before the hunt began, luck was on Charlie’s side as he was the lone winner of the one available non-resident sheep permit for the area that we would be hunting. That night we went through gear, told stories, and generally just relaxed as we prepared for the following day’s trip into the mountains. Charlie seemed well prepared gear wise and alluded to the physical conditioning he took part in preparation for his hunt. The true test of his preparation would come when our boots were finally in the field with mountains to climb.

The following day, we made our way into the field. While the flight was uneventful, the weather was not. The ceiling increasingly became prohibitive for us to land at our initial destination, so we stopped short which ultimately added about 10 miles to our approach into the area we hoped to hunt. I was dropped off first, followed by Charlie a few hours later. With some daylight left, we began to hike. We only made it about 3/4 of a mile before the weather deteriorated quickly. Strong winds and sideways rain made our decision easy, we would camp for the night and see what tomorrow would bring. I found a little depression in the earth that provided some protection from the wind, so we each set up our own respective tent, consumed a freeze dried meal and called it a night.

The morning of August 9th we awoke to a blizzard, whiteout conditions with a biting wind. With the winds howling and visibility low, dangerous glacier travel seemed to be out of the question for the day. While this would put us behind schedule to get into our hunting area, a tent day was the responsible choice for us to remain safe.

The first campsite

As the weather began to finally clear that evening, the landscape was blanketed in almost a foot of fluffy white snow. With the thoughts of sheep dancing in our head, we knew we had our work cut out for us the next day.

 

[adventure907]

August 10th, opening day. We woke up early, ate a quick meal of instant oatmeal and broke down camp. With almost a 14 mile hike ahead of us, making time was the theme for the day. Charlie proved to be an excellent hiker, in shape and with no complaints as to the tough hiking conditions. Every step proved potentially perilous as the layer of snow hid the rocks, ice, and glacial moraine underneath. One wrong step could lead to a hunt ending injury, or worse. Crevasses offered sudden and hidden dangers with one fateful fall leading to a possible glacial death. Sheep hunters have died before in the depths of a glacial crevasse, and they are sure to die again. My number one job as the guide on this hunt was to make sure me and Charlie stayed safe.

Beautiful day for a hike, but a lesson would be learned

The day was beautiful, blue bird as far as the eye could see. With the sun shining down, the landscape was bright and the temperature warm as we trudged along. Occasionally we would stop and glass, looking for our first sighting of sheep. Now mind you, looking for a white animal in a completely white landscape is quite the challenge, but not impossible. I explained to Charlie, first look for tracks, and that if we did see sheep, they would appear almost yellow against the white backdrop. As much as our optimism yearned for that first sighting, it wasn’t to be and we carried on with our forced march further up the glacier.

Suddenly, the peace of the valley was broken by a thunderous roar approaching from behind. Was it an avalanche, a rock slide perhaps? Our eye’s turned skyward. Though we were deep in the Alaskan wilderness possibly a hundred miles or more from the nearest humans, we soon saw we weren’t alone. Two F-16 fighter jets, flying just above the lowest peaks thundered their way up the valley. As a former military member, Charlie instantly recognized the twin horizontal stabilizers of the F16 Fighting Falcon. Just as quickly as they appeared, they were gone. While one of the aspects we love about remote Alaska hunting is the peace, the quiet, and the solitude, both Charlie and I commented on the sound of freedom and the reassurance of our military always on guard and ready to defend our way of life, the way of life that offers us the freedom to hunt and choose this way of life.

As the day wore on, I felt my legs starting to betray my willpower. As the first hunt of the season, the shock of the weight on my back and the terrain we were traveling began to take its toll on this long first day of hiking. I decided we should probably start to look for a camp site, do some glassing, and rest for the next day’s travels. While some glaciers offer hospitable terrain for camping, this one did not. I searched for anything suitably flat to get our tents up, but nothing on ice nor moraine would suffice. This meant one short, hard climb to get up and off the glacier with the idea we’d find a flat spot for the tents. With burning legs, well, at least my burning legs, we made it off the glacier. A flat spot for the tents was quickly found and camp was made. We spent the last few hours of the evening glassing for sheep, eating freeze dried, and generally just enjoying the peaceful solitude we found ourselves in. As far as camps go, it had one of the most beautiful views a sheep hunter could hope to see. With out hard day behind us, we retired to our respective tents and called it a night, with dreams of sheep dancing in our head for the following day.

Our second campsite, up off the glacier

to be continued.....