When I crested the end of the morraine I couldn't hardly believe it when not only did I see the rams, but I had gained some ground. The next hundred or so yards was relatively flat so I ran around the little boulder mounds as fast as I could. I rounded the last one and hit the deck. My ram was in the lead and at about 300 yards quartered away it seemed like a chip shot by comparison. I let a round loose and the ram spun, fell, and died. It was only then that I realized how late it had gotten, but I had to get up there and see that ram. Even though it wasn't far it took me about 15 minutes to get up to the ram so I could bask in the moment. What I would have given for my camera, but I had left it back with my Dad. All I could do was get down country before it went completely black and left me boulder hopping in the dark.

We came back first thing the next morning and to our disappointment the ravens had risen early and beat us to the ram. As soon as I saw them I knew his eyes would be gone so the pictures wouldn't be the best, but thankfully they didn't wreck his cape. Here he is. 36 and change on his right horn, and 33 and change on the broomed left side. ADF&G aged him at 9 years old.