Rocky Mountain Big Horn Sheep

Head in the Clouds

By. Geno Pagliaro

 

 

Where did my desire to take a big horn sheep come from?

It all started when i was a little boy, I would go on spotting trips with my dad looking for his elusive big horn. I can remember him setting up the spotting scope for me and seeing all the white bums up high above the clouds. Over the years my dad and I hunted many things together, taking elk, deer and bear. As time wore on, and my dad being a police officer, we moved away from the sheep ranges. He and my grandfather have taken many fine trophies in their lives, but neither of them had taken a ram and I wanted one! I wanted to be the first one in my family of die hard hunters to achieve the hardest animal in North America to take. 

As time ticked away, my desire for a ram grew so strong i would find myself daydreaming of my sheep hunt. As life went on I found myself moving back to my home town were my sheep infection started. I fell into my dream job of guiding and apprenticing in taxidermy for the off sessions. I guided for goat, elk, bear and deer and when the first ram came into camp for one of our happy hunters, I was shocked! I started hitting the maps talking with old outfitters doing recon trips to make it happen. I soon learned the sheep hunting community is tight lipped and every thing I found out was old news or BS. With this in mind, I burnt boot leather hiking mountains and popped aspirin like candy to kill pounding head aches from glassing and sore muscles.
Then two years ago my wife drew a sheep tag, I put my quest for my ram on hold and lived it through hers. The next year was another story, so I thought. My hunting partner, who is a 65 year old Norwegian (who can walk the pants off me), made the long trek to our sheep spots all summer long with me.

When we did find rams, we found two legal full curls and the agreement was my partner was to have first shot and I would get second due to age, I had lots of time to get a ram. We camped with our rams for days and when opening morning came along,so did the people. With people on every ridge top our two rams dwindled down to one, with a foot race to the remaining ram and a great final stock, my partner made a great shot and I watched his ram tumble down the mountain. His life long dream came true. The rest of the year turned up rams but nothing legal.
My hunting partner and I took to spotting for the next year. With some rams spotted but nothing really stacking up we took a stab in the dark for opening morning. The rams we were watching turned out to be little guys and the wind and weather had everything else timbered up. We called off the hunt so my hunting partner could take his new wife on their honey moon, that got put off for my hunt.
A  week or two later I started to get antsy, there was one spot I had investigated for some time and with my sheep partner gone I asked a great friend of mine if he wanted to tag along. I swore him to secrecy on his right, you know what, of the area. He had no sheep tag, so we figured if there was no rams I would help him find an elk. We only had two days before our shift started at our job, so we made a mad dash to my spot and a long trek up the mountain side. We reached the top by late afternoon and set up camp. As we glassed the slides and rock faces, we enjoyed the warm afternoon that eventually turned to evening, our hopes grew and I felt Electric. We spotted a sow Grizzly and her cubs feeding up the slide towards us, but nothing else turned up. With our situation with the 3 bears we decided to look over the other side and give them their space. After our little trek to the other side we came back to camp with no sheep spotted. All of a sudden, the bush began to huff and as the willows parted, here came the three grizzlies, the guns came up and we began to whistle and shout. The bears wheeled off without a shot fired. We settled into camp, had some much needed water and some mountain house then we were fast a sleep with load guns by our sides.

The next morning we woke, climbed out of our sleeping bags and began to glass. I put my swarrows up and I was looking at 9 rams! I quickly set up my spotter and there he was! With a few mouthfuls of oatmeal we were off, we side hill'd for about 1 1/2 km and with the sun coming up our backs the rams had no chance of seeing us. We stayed off the skyline and with the wind in our favor, we moved into 150 yards and I set up my spotter. The rams winded something from down below and began to move out and there was my ram, filing across the slide. He stopped suddenly and looked back, and just like in my dream I played so many times in my head, my cross hairs settled on his right shoulder and I felt the pressure build on the trigger. Rock solid, the report of my rifle sent my dream to reality as I watched my ram slow, come to a stop and topple over! It had happened! 
Time stopped up there in the clouds, and a rush of emotions came over me. I don't know how i got to my ram, but I do know I could not see the rocks i was stepping on from the tears welling up in my eyes. After the photo shoot I reached down into my pack and pulled out something special, a knife my dad made me. It was made from the steel of my grandfathers crosscut saw and dawned with a sheep horn handle. I had saved this knife for this very moment, its first time use.
This ram is not just my first, it's not a booner, but it is my trophy, it's my families trophy and my memory of goal determination and friends, this is why I love sheep and sheep hunting.