This story, “Quest for the Desert Sheep: Ram Past the Rampart,” appeared within the December 1975 difficulty of Out of doors Life.
The desert bighorn sheep, Ovis canadensis nelsoni, is without doubt one of the most coveted recreation animals on earth. This isn’t as a result of they inhabit significantly distant crevices of the globe or as a result of they’re all that onerous to hunt. They are often legally hunted in 4 Southwestern states plus a part of Mexico, and the hunter success ratio runs over 50 % in some areas.
It isn’t their magnificence as a trophy that makes desert bighorns such favorites both. The coloration of a mature ram is considerably on the order of a corroded battery cable. His headgear is notably much less spectacular than that of his brethren farther to the north. Nonetheless he’s No. 1 within the North American recreation hierarchy, for 2 causes. First, he’s the nice stumbling block on the tortuous path to the Holy Grail of North American massive recreation — the grand slam (Dall, Stone, Rocky Mountain bighorn, and desert bighorn). And second, licenses to hunt him are frustratingly arduous to come back by.
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In 1975, for instance, the 4 desert-sheep-hunting states — Arizona, Nevada, New Mexico, and Utah — allowed solely 123 permits amongst them. Of those solely a dozen had been assigned to out-of-state hunters, Utah granting none in any respect. Thus, even with out-of-state licenses costing as much as $300 every, the chances are nonetheless a thousand to 1 in opposition to being drawn. Some hunters have change into so intense of their quest for the desert treasure that they’ve give up their jobs and left residence simply to arrange authorized residence in one of many desert sheep states as a way to enhance their probabilities of being drawn. In Arizona, just one out of 10 licenses goes to nonresidents. In Arizona and New Mexico a hunter is allowed just one sheep in a lifetime. In Utah permits are so uncommon that just one is granted in a lifetime whether or not the hunter baggage a sheep or not.
The shortage of desert sheep is a results of always decreased habitat. They as soon as ranged over a relatively massive space of the Southwest, however competitors with home livestock and different land-use components have restricted their vary to sure protected and managed areas. Inside these administration areas the sheep thrive and steadily improve their numbers to the purpose the place mature rams will be harvested. The sheep populations are rigorously monitored by game-and-fish businesses, and the variety of rams that may be taken in any given yr is intently managed.
The hunter is a crucial instrument within the administration of those remaining desert-sheep areas. As long as their habitat isn’t endangered, these great recreation animals will proceed.
Free-roaming wild burros are actually the main risk to the desert sheep. The burros deprive sheep and different recreation animals of water. In previous years the burros had been regulated by managed taking pictures when their numbers turned extreme. However now, underneath the Wild Horse and Burro Act, they’re protected by federal law-ridiculous scenario when you think about that the burros aren’t even true wildlife however solely home animals which have gone wild. “Disturbing” them is a excessive misdemeanor with a penalty of $2,000 and/or a yr in jail. However the most high quality for taking a sheep illegally is just $300. Quickly animal lovers, be they hunters or not, might must resolve between wild burros and desert sheep.
All these details had been tumbling by means of my thoughts as I studied a rusty-tan kind by means of my 10X binoculars. For greater than 4 hours my information “Connie” Clare and I had been working our approach nearer to the previous ram. Now, at a variety of 600 to 700 yards, we had a transparent have a look at our quarry.
He was magnificent!
His horn didn’t droop down on the rear within the “sickle-backed” method of some desert rams, however as an alternative swept up previous the jaw in a full, even circle with the guidelines flaring to every facet. The horns had been these of an previous ram, large in entrance and having deep crags displaying proof of previous conflicts. The guidelines rose excessive and sharp and there was surprisingly little brooming.
He was a sheep hunter’s dream come true, a once-in-a-lifetime trophy. And I had a license to take him in my pocket and a rifle in my hand. However after a last have a look at him by means of the binoculars, I slung the rifle over my shoulder and headed again down the mountain. If we performed our playing cards proper, he’d nonetheless be there the following morning.
Like practically each hunter who seeks the desert bighorn, I had gone by means of the annual ritual of making use of for an Arizona sheep allow, solely to have it returned stamped “Not profitable in drawing.” The information that I’d ultimately come up a winner got here at an particularly good time. I’d simply emerged from the wilds of northern British Columbia after two fruitless weeks of looking caribou, moose, and mountain goat. I’d simply checked right into a Whitehorse resort. After my first bathtub in lots of days, I known as residence and was pouring out my woes to my semisympathetic spouse when she advised that maybe my poor luck in Canada was an indication that my desert-ram hunt can be extra auspicious.
“What desert ram?” I requested.
“Oh, didn’t I let you know?” was the coy reply. “You bought a letter from the Arizona Sport and Fish Division. They are saying you’ve been drawn to hunt sheep this fall.” I had been luckier than most: it was solely my third strive.
With these phrases the entire Canadian misadventure was forgotten. Immediately I began planning for December 7, the opening of sheep season in southern Arizona.
The primary transfer was to guide Dr. C.G. (Connie) Clare as my information. Clare is a profitable Phoenix optometrist who indulges his ardour for sheep looking by guiding a couple of Arizona hunts every season. He spends a great little bit of his free time roaming the Arizona mountains and finding out sheep habits. He is aware of nearly what number of authorized rams stay in any given space and the place they’re almost definitely to be discovered; all he asks of his shoppers is that they be in good bodily form and know tips on how to use a rifle.
On December 6, the day earlier than the opening of sheep looking within the space I’d drawn, I checked into the Sport and Fish Division in Phoenix. There I met fellow hunter Mort Inexperienced of Mt. Lebanon, Pennsylvania, and Jack Gruer, who runs Clare’s looking camp and serves up a tasty plate of beans and mesquite-broiled steaks.
Our looking space was about 120 miles west of Phoenix within the Plomosa mountain vary. After we met Connie in camp that night he instructed me that he’d been scouting the realm I might hunt.
“I noticed a high quality ram excessive on a steep mountain about fifteen miles north of right here,” Connie mentioned. “He’ll be robust to get at if he stays on the mountain. However there are 4 extra rams working across the base of the mountain. Probably the larger ram will come down and be part of the others someday in the course of the late afternoon. If he does, we’ll be confronted with harmful climbing and troublesome stalking. Not that it’ll be straightforward in any occasion.”
His horn swept up previous the jaw in a full, even circle with the guidelines flaring to every facet. The horns had been these of an previous ram, large in entrance and having deep crags displaying proof of previous conflicts.
Earlier than daylight the following morning Connie and I drove into the Plomosa foothills. (Mort went to his space with one other information, and I discovered later that Mort took a high quality ram a few days after my hunt ended.) Then, leaving the four-wheel-drive car, we hiked the remaining few miles into the basin the place the sheep had been noticed the day earlier than. It was a gorgeous starting for a desert-country hunt. There was no wind to talk of, and the air was simply cool sufficient to make a flannel shirt really feel good.
Connie is a kind of “assume optimistic” guides. He stays satisfied that sheep are shut at hand and the one trick is to maintain trying till you notice them. As quickly as sufficient mild had crept into the desert basin to see farther than 100 yards, he started scanning the hills. He didn’t cease scanning for over half an hour. I adopted his instance, rigorously tracing the outlines of each rock and projection that might presumably be a sheep or perhaps a small a part of a partly hidden sheep. However, predictably, it was Connie’s higher expertise that bore fruit.
“Have a look at this,” he mentioned, stepping again from his tripod-mounted binoculars. 4 rams had been meandering throughout a low saddle in one of many ridges sloping down from the principle peak. The space was a bit over a half-mile, however the rams had been angling towards us and would come nearer in the event that they stored on their present course.
Regardless of the gap to the sheep, Connie’s voice was barely greater than a whisper as he gave an appraisal of the scenario.
“I solely noticed 4, in all probability the identical band I noticed yesterday. Which means the large ram isn’t with them.”
Nonetheless finding out the transferring types by means of the heavy glasses, I agreed. “4 is all I can see too.” However then a fifth head rose above the skyline.
“No, wait — there are 5!” I virtually shouted. “One other ram is catching up.”
“Then my hunch could also be proper in spite of everything,” he mentioned, grinning, “and it is a near-perfect setup. They’ll observe the decrease contours the place the mountain ranges off into the foothills. We are able to get lots nearer with out being seen by following a dry wash main that approach. That is an excessive amount of luck to anticipate the primary time out.”
Twenty minutes later, after a simple stalk by means of a deep sandy-bottomed dry wash, we had been settled behind a low granite outcropping with a sawtooth profile. The breaks within the rock made an ideal place to look at the sheep with out being noticed ourselves. There was even a low notch to make use of as a rifle relaxation. Forward the bottom sloped gently upward for about 200 yards, then reared up at a pointy 60° angle the place the foothills and gravel-strewn rills gave approach to a sheer granite wall. For the reason that sheep had been staying near the bottom of the mountain, they’d go inside straightforward rifle vary.
Ten minutes later the primary head — a great, mature ram — rounded a rockslide about 400 yards to our proper. He was instantly adopted by two extra, one with a couple of three-quarter curl and the opposite solely barely higher. A second later the fourth ram got here into view, and my coronary heart skipped a beat. His horns swept as much as the extent of his eyes, then spanned gracefully outward earlier than ending in easily blunted ideas. For a second he stopped and appeared again within the route from which he’d simply come, giving us a fast inspection of either side of his head. A couple of seconds later the fifth sheep, a good ram of about the identical high quality because the chief, rounded the rockpile.
There was little question in my thoughts that the fourth ram within the procession was the one we’d come for and that in lower than two minutes I’d have a simple shot at him. However Connie had different concepts.
“That’s not him,” he whispered. “The curl on this ram is just too tight. Let’s let him go. That previous ram I noticed on the mountain should nonetheless be up there.”
Over time I’ve discovered that it’s seldom clever to disagree with guides, particularly specialists like Connie Clare. However desert sheep usually are not a recreation animal you’ll be able to hunt yr after yr till you run throughout a record-book specimen. Any desert ram is a once-in-a-lifetime trophy. But right here I used to be being suggested to go over a full-curl head that hundreds of hunters would hock the household homestead for.
Earlier than I might register my protest, a tawny kind flashed out of the rocks above the second sheep and glanced off his again. A bobcat! The sheep had been in full flight right away, racing in entrance of us with the cat in pursuit. After a dash of about 75 yards the bobcat gave up. He bounded to the highest of a boulder to look at the fast-departing sheep.
“Effectively, I’ll be damned,” Connie mentioned. “I by no means noticed something like that.”
Because the final white rump sank out of sight behind a sharp-crested ridge some 300 yards to the west, it occurred to me that we had been fortunate the large ram had not been with this band. He can be arduous to search out after a fright like that.
By early afternoon we had been again on the spot the place we’d been earlier. From that distance we might see a lot of the south face of the mountain. I had studied each rocky crevice and outcropping on the mountain’s face till I knew all of them by coronary heart, however we hadn’t seen something that appeared like a sheep. Connie reasoned that the ram he’d seen the day earlier than wouldn’t be part of the others. as a result of he was loads good and had a hideout too secure and safe to depart for lengthy. We’d simply must glass the mountain till the ram confirmed himself.
Ultimately we noticed a motion amongst some palo verde bush in a slim however deep pocket about two-thirds of the best way up the mountainside. Clare’s guess had been proper. The ram had tucked himself away in a spot that gave him safety on either side but in addition allowed a transparent view of all approaches from the desert ground under. Or not less than so it appeared from the place we stood. The one approach to verify was to get lots nearer.
An hour later we had closed the hole to some hundred yards. From there we might see no approach to get nearer with out operating an excessive amount of threat of being noticed by the ram. Three separate washes led on to the sheep’s redoubt. To our drawback he might observe every avenue of method from prime to backside, and there was nothing larger than a barrel cactus to cover behind in any of them.
The fourth ram got here into view, and my coronary heart skipped a beat.
Probably he might be approached from the correct facet of the mountain, however that will imply an hour’s backtracking to keep away from crossing open floor, plus one other hour or so of angling alongside the hillside. Solely about two hours of daylight remained.
The left method appeared impassable due to an enormous, virtually vertical rock outcropping. However not less than that route provided sufficient concealment to get nearer with out being noticed, and with luck we would discover a climbable route. Sadly, the nearer we acquired, the rougher it appeared. At one level we estimated we had been inside 200 yards of the ram, however that was by means of 200 yards of stable granite. Scaling the wall would have challenged the talents of a first-class mountain climber. There was no assure of an open shot, even when we made it to the highest.
The left method was out of the query, however not less than our exploration hadn’t been a waste of time. From this excessive left angle we found why the previous ram was so assured of his hideaway. A slim cleft, fully hid by a ridgeback of sharp-edged granite, angled down from the mountain’s highest peak instantly towards the sheep’s hangout. Seen head-on from a distance, the ridgelike outcropping appeared like solely a scar on the mountain’s face. In actual fact, it was a wonderfully protected getaway route. In lower than 5 minutes the ram might be on the opposite facet of the mountain, having left no hint of his whereabouts. It additionally offered a passageway into his non-public pocket.
With solely an hour of daylight left, we made our approach again to the place we might get one other have a look at the ram’s hideout. He was nonetheless there. He had moved just a few toes from the place we’d final seen him. In a do-or-die scenario it may need been value risking a shot, however at that vary the probabilities of a success had been lower than one in 4. With time operating out, we briefly mentioned the knowledge of a full frontal assault that afternoon. I even made a short reconnaissance to take a look at the chances of such a plan. Dodging from boulder to boulder. I labored my approach about 200 yards nearer to the ram however succeeded solely in getting blocked off in a dead-end gully. I retreated to the place Clare had waited. Then we watched the previous ram till deep shadows crept throughout the face of the mountain and a chill wind sprang up.
“That is the good approach to do it,” mentioned Connie. “We’ll put him to mattress, and we’ll be right here when he will get up within the morning. Let’s go get some steak and beans.”
With that, we turned our backs on the sheep and made our approach towards the desert ground as I described at first of this story.
Throughout the evening the southwesterly wind turned chilly. Within the morning, as we huddled behind the uncooked ridge of granite from the place we’d final seen the ram the night earlier than, my mild down jacket felt cosy and comfortable. The sky was nonetheless black, glowing with stars. Minutes later the skinny blue line outlining the jap horizon appeared to blow up into day.
The previous ram was precisely the place we’d left him 12 hours earlier. He was munching on the guidelines of a palo verde bush, relaxed in his rock-walled citadel. This time we didn’t linger to admire his horns. We’d labored out our plan the evening earlier than, so we knew precisely how we’d proceed. Jack Gruer would act as a precautionary observer. He would keep bedded down out of sight and preserve monitor of the ram’s actions with my recognizing scope. Connie and [ didn’t know how long it would take to circle the mountain and come in the back door. It could take hours and might even prove impossible. But if the sheep wandered off, Jack would know where he’d headed and we wouldn’t lose him.
The climb wasn’t impossible but close to it. Several times we had to crawl across narrow ledges. Once we were almost halted by a sheer rock wall. The only choices were to scale the bare face, using whatever handholds and toeholds we could find in the few crevices, or backtrack and try to find another route. We chose the wall. Clare went first. Then he hauled my rifle with an empty chamber up by a tow line we made from the sling. It was the last major obstacle. We edged around a chimney-shaped pinnacle and found ourselves on the rim of the gash that led down to the sheep’s hideout. Cautiously we crept along the wall of the crevice to a spot where we wouldn’t be sky lined.
What ram? As far as we could tell none was in sight.
For an instant we thought we might have hit yet another slash in the mountain’s face. From this upper angle the south slope looked a lot different. It would be easy to come out at the wrong spot. But the landmarks were there. Not more than 200 yards away was the palo verde bush on which the sheep had been feeding. ,Just beyond was a giant, three-armed saguaro cactus. Its image had etched itself on my memory the day before.
There was no mistake — we were at the right place. But where was the sheep? If he was still there he should be clearly visible with the naked eye. Apparently he had gone down the mountain. Our only hope of catching him would be to hurry down the crevice and hope he hadn’t gone too far.
Still, we hadn’t made any mistakes so far, and we didn’t intend to start now. Chasing sheep can be a fool’s errand, especially in treacherous terrain like this where a misstep can mean a rockslide, a nasty scope-busting fall, or much worse. Even though the sheep couldn’t be seen, we stayed hidden and carefully studied every rock and bush through our binoculars
“Look to the left of the bigger palo verde tree,” Connie whispered in my ear. I focused on what looked like a round gray rock. It was like thousands of others on the mountainside but had a peculiar, almost white slash across it. It appeared cold and lifeless. It was different from all the other rocks in the area, but how could it be the ram? Where was the head: where were the legs?
At that moment there was a movement a couple of feet beyond. For a split-second the top of a sheep’s horn swept out from behind a flat boulder, then disappeared again. I heard Connie’s breath catch in his throat. He had seen it too.
The ram was taking it easy in a depression. His white rump was sticking up on one end, and his head was out of sight behind a rock on the other end. No wonder he’d been so hard to spot.
Some eight feet down the slope was a rough-textured boulder. It was about the size of an easy chair and would offer good concealment. It would also make a solid rifle rest. At that range I probably could have made a good shot offhand, but I didn’t intend to take any chances. Without risking even a whisper I pointed to the rock so that Connie would know that I was going to move closer. He nodded his agreement.
I spent a full minute slowly but soundlessly feeding a cartridge into the chamber.
After crawling up to the left side of the fist-shaped boulder I stuffed my gloves in a groove on the rough surface. Then I laid the rifle in the padded notch. Next I slowly lifted the bolt. I spent a full minute slowly but soundlessly feeding a cartridge into the chamber. The rifle was the same custom-stocked-and-barreled Model- 70 Winchester in .280 Remington caliber that I’d used on a dozen hunting trips during the previous two years. The only change I’d made was the addition of Leupold’s new Vari-XIII 2.5X-to- 8X scope. The magnification was turned all the way up to 8 power. The rifle was sighted dead on at 200 yards with my load of 56 grains of No. 4350 behind a 150-grain Nosier spitzer. Across level ground the point of impact would have been perfect at this range, but I would be shooting downhill at about a 30° angle. It meant that the bullet would hit above the point of aim. So I made a mental note to aim low on the brisket.
I had no idea how long the sheep would lie there. I didn’t really care. Sooner or later he would have to get up, and I was as ready as I would ever be.
Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. The cold wind funneled up the pass, chilling my ungloved hands so that I could scarcely move my fingers. I slipped my shooting hand inside my jacket. Twenty minutes passed. Suddenly he was up! For a long moment he stood facing directly away from me. apparently studying the desert below. The only shot I had was n dead-on rump shot. but I’d waited too long at this point to do anything so foolish. A moment later the ram began walking away from me. He rounded a palo verde bush and stopped just behind it. He was broadside to me now, still more than half covered by the thick growth. I could see him well enough to aim, but I didn’t dare risk trying to get a bullet through the tangle of tough twigs. Instead I concentrated on the great, full sweep of his horns.
Slowly he emerged from behind the brush and headed uphill. He came out into the open now, full broadside, and stopped. The crosshairs moved low on his chest. I gradually increased the pressure on the trigger. When the rifle cracked the sheep reared up on his hind legs, then headed toward me at a dead run. The crosshairs were on his chest, and I was about to pull the trigger again when Connie yelled.
“Don’t shoot — you’ve got him!”
At that instant the big ram reared again and fell dead. The bullet had caught him in the lower quarter of a shoulder and did enormous damage, destroying heart and lungs. The ram went no more than 15 yards after being hit.
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Far below on the desert floor, Jack Gruer had watched the action through my 60X spotting scope. He gathered up our packboards and headed up the mountain toward us. A long, hard day still lay ahead. Arizona law requires that not only the horns and cape of desert sheep but also a good portion of the meat be checked in. I was determined to do more than just meet the letter of the law. After skinning the ram out for a full body mount, we divided it into quarters and packed everything out. It took two trips up the mountain. But when it comes to exotic table fare, desert ram has got to be the rarest tidbit of all.
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