Talus slopes, scree slides, glacial moraine, and cliffs tacked with melting glaciers loomed above us, the Bombshelter tent a dot in the drainage below. Soon, we were through the talus, skirted the base of some cliffs, and negotiated an ancient sheep trail to a rocky glacial pocket, our next campsite.
I felt privileged to be here in several ways. First, I drew the tag, along with a moose tag, after nine years of applying. Second, this would probably be my last Dall sheep hunt since I was well into my 70th year and took my first Dall ram 29 years ago with Red Beaman in the Alaska Range. Third, I had Kai Wolfe and Joe Cordell as assistant guide and packer on what would eventually be their first solo sheep guiding success. Finally, I would be hunting with Clint Mayeur, renowned bush pilot and outfitter, who essentially grew up in this end of the Chugach and knows it better than most anyone. When the Chugach went on a draw for rams 10 years ago, Bruce Babcock, my late friend and taxidermist, had recommended I apply with Clint. His son, Bernie, was guiding for him and respected him highly.
Clint flew me to his base camp cabin, and we would backpack hunt from there. Kai and Joe were already at the first spike camp, clearing trail. After overnighting there, we climbed to near the crest of this part of the range and holed up in rain and wind. We glassed across vast drainages that evening, and the next morning, we spotted rams that Clint assessed as not big enough to pursue. Eventually, we retreated to the Bombshelter spike camp and continued on in the rain to the cabin, miles below. There, we weathered the storm.
When the weather cleared, Clint flew Kai to an isolated corner of the range to scout. He was stranded there for two nights as the wind foiled Clint’s attempts to land with me on a short, rough, slightly rounded ridgetop for two days. Finally, we got a break in the wind and Clint was able to drop me and then Joe off on the ridge. Kai had spotted a heavy horned ram in a group of eight the day prior before they moved to the back of the range and had not pressed them. We packed our gear off the ridge and set up camp in a cut between two knobs, out of sight, and holed up until we could hunt the next morning.
In the pink light, we climbed out of the cut and glassed from the next knob. Next, we moved across the flat below and ascended the main ridge. We spotted four rams bedded on a krummholz point off the backside of the range a mile or more away. We circled the ridge to get the wind in our faces and close the distance, but when we peeked over, the rams were gone. We circled back on the west side and found them retracing our route on the east, 900 yards ahead. We finally got ahead of them and slid over a rounded part of the ridge to intercept them. Kai had peeked ahead and knew they were coming. Their long shadows extended below us at 75 yards. I was set up for an easy shot, but they did not show. Somehow, they had sensed our presence and backed away around the mountain again. As we prepared yet another backtrack, Joe spotted the big ram cautiously skirting the round ridge we had just crossed, probably to catch our scent and confirm his suspicion. Once Kai confirmed his age in the spotter, I took the ram at about 180 yards. He died on the ridgetop in the most beautiful setting imaginable in perfect weather. We quietly paid our respects to this great ram and the mountains that produced him.
Clint, Kai, and Joe had packed heavier loads than me earlier in the hunt, and now the young men (Joe the Marine and Kai the eight man football player) really showed their youth and training. We had two ridges to climb to get to the landing site with the ram and our gear, and we arrived as Clint landed. Clint got us back to the cabin in three trips, and once settled, we roasted sheep ribs over birch coals and devoured them all, a tradition I have cherished after successful ram hunts over the years.
I’m convinced Kai and Joe will have long successful careers as Alaska guides, and I am proud to have been their first successful sheep hunter on what is likely my last Dall sheep hunt. As for Clint Mayeur, he should already be a legendary bush pilot and guide, despite his understated nature. These men share the respect and admiration I have for mountain sheep and their habitat, and it was an honor to hunt with them.
The ram’s official SCI score was 175 1/8" and official B&C score was 173 6/8".
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