This is my first post here so I figure i'll share a story to start. I wrote this story a few days after the hunt so it would be fresh in my mind.
I hope you guys enjoy it.
So I just got back this week from a week of chasing Dall sheep in the Mackenzie mountains with two of my best friends.
Derek and I have been hunting together since 1986, and Mike joined the fray in 1998. Ironically they are cousins who had never met until I introduced them in 1998 but that is another story.
The scenario went like this: Mike who lives in Calgary came to Yellowknife 2 summers ago to frame Dereks' new house. I helped when I could but didn't have a ton of extra time to help out as I have my own contracts to fulfill. Having gone on a guided Dall hunt a few years ago Mike decided the price he would charge Derek for framing the house was for the three of us to head into the mountains and chase sheep for a week.
Mike said that the only downer he had on his own sheep hunt had been that he was with a guide not his buddies for the occasion, and that he would like to change that.
The three of us had done the same thing a few years back when we flew to Mckay lake and knocked over 4 dandy Caribou. All of us agree that that was the best hunt we had ever been on, we were hoping to change that with this hunt.
The first problem to solve was where to go. As resident hunters we weren't hiring a guide so we were going in blind and were at the mercy of whatever information people were willing to share.
Of course we did as much research as we could and talked to some of the few resident sheep hunters we know, and they gave us good information.
But as you guys know, no hunt goes 100% smooth.
We were scheduled to fly out to Norman Wells on the 23rd of July, the Friday before Derek phones to inform me that there are no helicopters available until later in the week......sheepdip!.......... we had all booked the time off and didn't really have the option to change so float plane it would have to be.
Only having a plane of course changed the total dynamic of the hunt, we couldn't go to the area we chose, so now we're really guessing on what to do. On getting to Norman wells the first person we see happens to be the newly retired head game warden Keith who is more than happy to pull out his maps point to a lake and say "go here, you'll get your rams".
The next person we meet is Travis, who ends up being our pilot of all people. Travis also used to be a sheep guide for a few years, he said " I don't think that there is enough area for you to hunt in Keiths choice lake, you should go to this other lake."
The problem as we see it is that if we go to area A we are hunting one specific local band of rams. If we go to area B we have way more area to look at but no history of the presence of rams.
Seeing Keith again he says the area that Travis picked is a nursery area and not historically an area that hold rams although they may be in the area........Sheepdip! .......what do we do?
We decided that we would fly the ridge in area A as the rams should be out feeding, and if we didn't see them we would go to area B and roll the dice. Nobody should ever have to make this decision, it just ain't fair. so off we go.
The first impression was spectacular, and as we flew over the first ridge the excitement was something you could cut with a knife..... we were finally going sheep hunting! In our minds this was a slam dunk as far as success went, how could anybody not get a sheep in country that looked like it would have them under every rock.......... see you in a couple of days boys!
Of course the rams of area A were absent so we went to area B and immediately saw a band of lambs and ewes on the mountain we flew over heading to our lake. These were the first Dall sheep I have ever seen!
We didn't arrive until 8pm on Monday but any of you who have been to 64 degrees north, the sun is still up with a vengeance. We quickly packed up our gear and headed off to "Grab some altitude." as Mike put it.
About 4 kms later dragging our sorry butts we set up camp for the night at 11pm.
Here's where I make a huge admission .........we hadn't trained one bit for this, and all of the arrogance that our minds had was now running down our backs in the form of buckets of sweat. Sheepdip! This is bloody hard work.
Of course that first night the storm clouds gathered and we faded in and out of consciousness as the thunder cracked right outside the tent. It was one ugly long night, but we were finally out there. We're sheep hunting boys!
The dawn came, we ate our mountain house, and aimed for the peak of the mountain we were on stopping to glass on the way. The scenario was like this, Derek and I had the resident tags, and Mike is the "Glassman". Derek and I have good binoculars and spotting scopes (leupold greenring) but Mike's gear all consists of the product of man by the name of Carl Zeiss. Mike's a good guy to have around when your glassing.
True to form it was Mike who spotted the first sheep a couple of mountains over ..........lambs and ewes. Oh well there are more sheep in the area, right?
So we get to the top of the mountain and we're actually feeling real good. The country looks perfect for spotting, and it's still early. Then the clouds rolled in.
Pouring rain we all slept under a tarp happy that there was no lightning in this cloudbank, but still wishing for clear skies and sheep in the spotting scope. A couple hours later things lightened up and we picked a knoll and started to glass.
That afternoon I spotted a bunch of little white dots about 6kms away, they fed quickly out of sight without us seeing what they were. To get there we followed a series of ridges and stopped at a small mountain top lake about 3 kms closer to camp for the night.
to be continued ............