A lifelong dream of mine was to experience and hunt Alaska. In December of 2014, I decided to begin applying for Dall sheep once I realized how long it may take to draw one of these low-odds units. I’d been kicking tires with outfitters and saving for five or six years. After drawing a high-demand early rifle elk tag in 2014, my belief in, “You can’t draw if you don’t apply,” had strengthened. My recent experiences with eight years of applications by studying the Huntin’ Fool magazines had allowed me to hunt some fun units with great trophy potential and mature animals that are much tougher to find in general tag units. After calling a number of hunters and interviewing guides and references, I asked Dan Montgomery to begin applying for me.
In January, I looked at my cell phone and saw a number I didn’t recognize, but knowing it was in Wasilla, Alaska and the draw should be taking place soon, I nervously answered the phone. Dan said, “Jeff, looks like you’re going to be hunting Alaska this year.” I was almost speechless. After discussing it with my wife and calling him back, the emotions set in that I had an epic fall ahead of me.
Five months later, after a tremendous amount of exercise, injury, sacrifice, eating healthy, research, gearing up, and other training for Alaska, I was as ready as I would ever be. My unit opened on August 10th. Dan had helped scout before I arrived and had found one excellent ram we were hoping to find. There were a few other smaller rams in the unit if things didn’t work out, but as Dan said, this one was really nice. Dan wanted me there August 4th so we could fly in on his Supercub on the 5th. This would give us flexibility if the weather was bad on the 5th or if it was going to get bad closer to opening day.
We prepared for the hike in for several nights on the gravel bar at base camp by the landing strip. We killed time and enjoyed the scenery. Drake was there to help pack, while Nolan was the experienced guide. Dan was off flying in a few other hunters and would be back after we called him with good news from the sat phone. Most of the sheep we were seeing were miles away in this enormous mountain range and likely lambs and ewes from the high numbers.
On the 8th, we hiked and sawed our way up through some tough alders, devils club, and yellow jackets to a spike camp. Once we were close to the spike camp, we were able to get a glimpse of three rams approximately three miles away, which put the cherry on top of this scenic, yet grueling hike.
After a thick layer of low clouds cleared on the 9th, we hiked up to within glassing range of where we had seen the rams the day before. When the clouds cleared, they revealed an impressive glacier at the head of the valley that would rumble as it shifted and as ice chunks fell from time to time. We watched a small group of three to five-year-old rams feeding on the other side of the valley, but then we spotted a few mature rams lying around. However, they didn’t stay long before disappearing behind the rocky outcrop. We couldn’t tell if the big one was in the group.
The rain began to pick up, so we returned to camp to prepare for opening morning. After hiking up, we climbed into the moraine and began to look for the group of rams. We spotted a big ram near where the group was located the day before. We planned a route, but our stalk ended almost before it began as we felt hard winds on the back of our necks. The decision was to wait out the wind, and we hunkered behind a big boulder as the rams disappeared behind the rocks. They reappeared at a much higher elevation and sat on a rocky outcropping where they could see the entire valley and all danger appearing from their direction. One ram was heavy, deep, and impressively larger than the others. As we sat and watched, we also saw an old 12 or 13-year-old double broomer at 700 yards straight up in an area where one couldn’t shoot a ram if they wanted to. I was quite tempted to try to make something work with him as I love a mature animal.
Six hours later, after a day of watching multiple rams and goats, the group of rams disappeared over the rocky ledge they were perched on. About 30 minutes later, the wind began to change, so we quickly moved that direction. We spooked a younger group of rams at least 800 yards away on the other side of the valley. We watched them climb, hoping they had not spooked our rams.
After hiking up to the ridge they were on, we peered over to find an empty valley. We glassed and looked everywhere for the rams, only to find sign and other evidence of goats and sheep on the steep rocks where their winter coats had rubbed off. At about 8:30 p.m., knowing we had a four-hour hike back to camp, we discussed the trip back. Not being satisfied, Nolan ran up a knife-blade ridge like a goat, bouncing from rock to rock for one last look to peer into another area. He came running back out of breath. He had spotted three rams moving in our direction. Not sure if the big one was there, we hustled up the ridge and into a shooting position. Laying my pack over the edge of a steep cliff, we watched the rams feed slowly in our direction from 200 yards. After an intense discussion, we finally agreed that the ram in front was the largest. I squeezed my .300 Win mag and the shot went off, but there was no flinch! I felt great about the shot, but what had happened?
The big ram stood there and stared at me. Nolan kept telling me he didn’t know if the ram was hit. None of the rams moved. The doubts and questions of whether my scope was damaged on the hike up began to flood my mind. As I cycled the bolt, I had a jam and had to hurriedly dump my floor plate to clear the round and try to get a round in him before they ran off. As I put the crosshairs on his chest, I thought I saw a little wobble, but I put a round in him to be sure and anchor him. “He’s down!” yelled Drake.
It was 9 p.m., and it took us an hour to get to the ram. After walking up a knife-blade ridge, sidehilling in some steep, rocky areas, and working down a chute of scree, we made it to him and put our hands on the most unique, impressive thing I’d ever seen up close. He was so much bigger than I had thought or ever dreamed of.
After caping the ram, we hiked out at 12:45 a.m. The hike out was grueling through the dark fog and drizzle. We made it to spike camp at 5:30 a.m., had a full day of rest, and made a few calls to the family from the satellite phone before hiking out to base camp the following day.
We flew out on the Supercub and took the ram in to have him plugged at the Fish and Game. He was 8 years old and had incredible genetics. The ram scored 170 0/8" after the 60-day drying period, placing him in the all-time Boone and Crockett record book, which I’d not yet had the pleasure of entering.
I want to thank the crew at Alaska Trophy Adventures. They are hard workers and good people. I also want to thank my wife, who was so supportive and patient with my crazy training regimen, and my father for planting the seed that’s required to work hard to achieve what you want. Finally, I want to thank Huntin’ Fool for providing me with the knowledge, support, and confidence in applying for some of the trophy quality animals that I never thought I’d get a chance to hunt.
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