In early June 2018, I was aware that I could check my big game draw results online, so as soon as the drawing took place, I was checking the results. Nothing. Since I had applied as a party with my dad for deer, elk, and antelope, I knew that he didn’t draw those either. Every year that we didn’t draw, my dad would say, “I hope I draw a tag before I’m too old to use it.” I remember going to lunch with him that day and giving him the bad news. I told him I could check his results to see if he drew a sheep tag. I sat looking at my phone in stunned disbelief. “You drew a sheep tag!” I said. I think he thought I was joking. He had drawn a Cady Mountains bighorn tag. I’m not sure who was more excited. We were headed to the desert.
In 2012, I had also drawn a sheep tag for the Cady Mountains. I remember talking to Cliff St. Martin from Dry Creek Outfitters several times. Although I would have loved to hire him to guide me, it just wasn’t in the cards. On a trip out to the Cady Mountains, I realized that what looked like a small unit on the satellite map was a massive mountain range complex. I hadn’t known what to expect. After a couple trips and some brutal climbs, I had a ram down.
My dad’s tag for the Cady Mountains would be different. This time, we would be hiring a guide, given that my dad had the means and at 79 years old he would need the help and expertise of a professional guide. We met up with Cliff St. Martin from Dry Creek Outfitters at the mandatory orientation meeting with the DFG. We had a chance to talk with him, and he had a slot available for us. My dad booked a 10-day hunt, and we spent the next six months going to the range and trying to get my dad dialed in for what potentially would be a long shot. He was solid at 200 yards, but I knew that anything out to 300 yards or more was going to be a challenge for him.
Finally, the hunt day arrived and we were on our way to the Cady Mountains. We arrived to find an awesome, fully assembled camp with nice, heated tents, cots, and a fully stocked mess tent. Not only would we be hunting with Cliff, but we would also have a full team of expert scouts, including Cliff’s partner, Tim Mercier, Sullivan, 14, and Big C. All of these guys had spent years scouting, guiding, and hunting bighorn sheep. In fact, they already had one ram spotted that we would keep in “the bank” just in case we didn’t find anything better.
Each morning, we were up in the dark and we would discuss the day’s game plan over breakfast. Then it was into the trucks and off everyone would go with the scouts each heading off to a different area to scout. We would stay in contact as we could during the day and then meet back up at night to compare notes on what everyone had seen during the day over a delicious dinner.
The first day was just kind of shaking the rust off and getting into the pace of desert life and long stretches in the glass. We mostly worked the northern part of the range, and although we saw some good sign and a few sheep, we didn’t find any shooter rams. On day two, we got up extra early and made our way down to the middle of the range and into Hidden Valley. My dad and I were scouting with Big C and word came over the radio that Cliff was watching three good rams across the valley. We made a plan and set off on our first real hike of the trip. We spent about an hour hiking into the area and were actually tracking Cliff’s previous path. Eventually, we made our way up the hill and found Cliff set up and watching a very nice ram. The ram was bedded, and we spent the next hour or so watching.
Finally, I saw the ram pick his head up. He was about to get up. Sure enough, up went the sheep. My dad was on the scope and had a quartering view of the ram at about 300 yards. “Boom!” went the 30-06. The shot was just a little high and right over its back. Now the sheep was on the move and my dad was having a hard time getting back on it. Boom! He took another shot in desperation, but it was another miss. Soon, the ram was over the skyline. Depression set in for everyone. However, we still had eight days left.
The next three days were spent driving, hiking, and glassing. We weren’t finding anything, and the rest of the scouting crew was reporting a few sheep sightings but no shooter rams. The weight of the miss was starting to weigh heavily on my dad. He was half convinced that he had blown his chance and would not get another one.
On the afternoon of day five, after looking up and down the range over the previous days, we were back in the Hidden Valley area. Just before sunset, Cliff found a few rams way off in the distance. They were too far to judge their size, but it was the best sighting we’d had in days. Day six came and went with no further sightings. At dinner that night, everyone was tired. It seemed to me like the best bet would be to get back down to that Hidden Valley zone as it had been the best area so far.
The next morning, it was back to Hidden Valley. Mid-morning, Cliff found that one of the three big rams that we had seen on day two had crossed the valley floor that night and was on the other side. He eventually located it and another plan was made. After a long hike in, my dad and Cliff were set up at about 290 yards. “Boom!” went the 30-06, and this time, the ram was down.
My dad turned 79 on December 9, 2018. This hunt was the culmination of over 60 years of big game hunting and 20+ years of applying to hunt California Desert bighorn sheep. I couldn’t be prouder. A huge thanks to Partner, Cowboy, 14, Sullivan, and Big C from Dry Creek Outfitters. These guys are dedicated, amazing outdoorsmen, and I highly recommend them.