In 2020, a long-awaited dream of mine came true. After 46 years of applying, I received an email from the Utah Big Game stating that I was successful in drawing a Desert bighorn sheep tag in the Kaiparowits, West unit. I would finally have the opportunity to chase Desert sheep in my home state, which has some of the most beautiful country in the world.
My desire to hunt wild sheep began at a young age. I chased these opportunities in a few western states until I finally caught a break. The 80s treated me well, striking gold in ‘84 on my first Desert bighorn in Nevada and again five years later on a Rocky Mountain bighorn in the great state of Wyoming. I was fortunate to harvest two nice rams on these hunts. There is no denying I had the sheep bug. I was addicted.
Fast forward 32 years to April 2020. I was anticipating this might be my year to draw. My nephew, Yates, and I headed down to the sheep unit in the beautiful desert of Southern Utah. In 2017, Yates had some luck of his own drawing the Expo Desert sheep Kaiparowits, West tag. I was lucky to be there alongside him when he harvested a beautiful 10 1/2-year-old ram. Having spent some time in the unit, it was nice to have a feel for the country.
At the end of May, we were back in the unit with our game faces on, learning everything there was to learn and exploring all the places we’d never been. I knew I’d need some help on this OIL tag, so I reached out to friends and family. My nephews, Dustin and Yates, committed to come help on the hunt along with my brother, Scott, and lifelong friends Tom, Ron, Scott, and Randy. I was happy to have a great group of guys in my corner. September couldn’t come fast enough.
September 9th, the week leading up to my hunt, my brother, Scott, and I had the truck and fifth wheel trailer all loaded up and headed south. On this day, the Wasatch Front had 90 mph winds. It may not have been the best day for travel, but we weren’t going to let a little wind stop us. The 8-hour trip ended up taking us 11 hours.
That afternoon, we finally made it to the area I wanted to spend some time in. There, we met up with Scott and covered a lot of ground for the next two days. In this particular area, we turned up a handful of sheep, including five rams, but nothing to hang a tag on. I decided to move to a different area where we spent a lot of time scouting earlier in the year. We would meet up with the rest of the gang there and see what the country had to offer.
Thursday morning came and all hands were on deck. We all spread out, picking apart the country in search of a shooter ram. We turned up quite a few sheep, just not “the one.” Just before dark, I glassed a ram way off in the distance. He looked like a dandy, but with light fading fast, we were unable to close the distance for a better look. Unfortunately, we were never able to turn him up again. After research, scouting, and talking with past hunters, I believed a realistic expectation would be to kill a 165" ram. I knew it would be no easy task.
Opening morning, we all split up in different directions. I was planning to hit some different vantage points in hopes of finding the good ram I had seen two days prior. Another group of hunters had beat me to the rim I was wanting to glass, so Tom and I moved to another canyon to look around. The morning was slow, so around noon, we decided to head back to camp to see what the others might have found. When we pulled in, Yates and Dustin had just arrived. Before I could step out of my General, they greeted me with the warm words, “You wanna go see a big ram?” With no time to waste, we flew up the dirt road in a cloud of dust.
We made it to where Dustin had picked up the ram late that morning. When I got eyes on him, I was in disbelief at the size of ram in my spotting scope. He was over a mile away laying under a steep, shady ledge surrounded by a handful of ewes and lambs. I thought we better get a closer look, so Yates and I cut the distance in half while Tom and Dustin kept eyes on the ram. When we got the sheep back in the spotter, I was pretty sure we had found something special. There I was opening day at 12:30 p.m. with my mind starting to race. We were sure the ram was only 6 1/2 years old, but with no other rams to compare, we questioned if he was truly as big as we believed him to be. I was pretty sold on the ram, but on the other hand, everything I’d learned about hunting sheep said it’s never good to judge a ram alone.
I decided to go back down to get the rifle and head in on a different angle for an even closer look. The country was steep and rugged. With every hard-earned step, my mind raced at the thought of what might happen next. It was 3:00 p.m. by the time we made it to where we had planned to set up. We crept around a sandstone ledge and spotted the ram still bedded at 330 yards. I stared through the spotter at the most beautiful ram I had ever seen. The thought of possibly being fooled by his size danced in the back of my head. “Is he the one?” I asked myself. After an hour of observing and deep thinking, I decided to take this great ram.
The gun was set up on a pack as we waited for him to stand. It was now 4:30 p.m., and the wind picked up and began to swirl. The ram stood up, locking eyes our direction. He began to quarter slightly our way until he disappeared into the ledges. My mind raced as I wondered where the sheep had gone. Did this big ram slip away? We quickly gathered our things and looped around to where we thought he might be, but we were unsure of the direction he went. As we continued to sneak around the ledge, I somehow dislodged a giant rock from the sandstone wall. As it came down fast, it brushed across the bino harness on my chest and crashed down the steep, rocky slope. With every point of impact, the big boulder sounded like gunshots echoing out of the canyon. At that moment, we had sheep running in all directions. They had held tight in a small pocket, and the chaos had them flushing out like wild pheasants. I looked across the steep draw, spotting the ram coming out at 130 yards. I quickly got down in position for a shot. At the sound of the rifle, I heard Yates shout, “You smoked him!” We watched as the ram tumbled down the hill. It all happened so fast and in such intense fashion that my mind could barely take it.
After high fives and taking in the moment, the ram somehow got to his feet. He more than likely wasn’t going anywhere, but I got down for a follow-up shot to finish him off. I could hear Dustin yelling down the canyon in excitement as he was able to watch it all unfold. We carefully slid down the hill, making our way over to the ram. When we got up to him, I couldn’t believe what I was looking at. He was a giant! As I picked him up and swung his head around, he just kept getting bigger. Dusty and Scott made their way up to join us where we all sat around admiring the ram and reminiscing on the recent moments of glory. After a photoshoot, we caped and quartered the ram so we could begin our descent down the canyon.
We arrived back at camp just before dark where the rest of the crew was patiently waiting. We all gathered around the ram, and the celebration continued. As I held the ram that night in camp, I could feel the pressure of the hunt melt out of my body. After four and a half decades, my sheep hunt was over on opening day. My expectations for a 165" ram were beat. The ram had 15" bases and 34" of length. He stretched the tape at 168 2/8" gross and 167 4/8" B&C net. I could not have done this without the help of my family and friends.
Utah Bighorn Sheep
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