After 21 years of unsuccessful applications for Arizona Desert sheep, I was convinced that drawing a sheep tag was only something that happened to other people. Even when I saw charges from Arizona on my credit card last spring, I wasn’t convinced of success. I actually believed that my husband, Lance, who had drawn a Desert bighorn tag two years before, had beat the odds and drawn a Rocky Mountain bighorn tag. Stubbornly, I clung to that conviction until the actual results were posted. I couldn’t believe it. It was finally my turn, and I was going sheep hunting!
From the start, I was worried about the logistics of this hunt. More than anything, I wanted to include all four of our young children in the experience, but I knew Lance and I would need a lot of help to make that happen. As my husband spread the news of my good fortune to family and friends, we were overwhelmed with offers to help. Family friends volunteered to come along and watch our kids while we hunted; our cousin, Josh Gerstch, offered his camper as base camp for my family during the hunt; and multiple hunting buddies from the area volunteered their assistance. I should never have worried about logistics. This hunt would be a reminder of what Lance and I already knew but sometimes take for granted. Life is enriched by the company we keep.
The day before the opener, we loaded the kids in our Excursion and made the five-hour drive to a campsite at the base of the Silverbell Mountains. When we arrived, cousin Josh was already there, setting up his camp trailer, and our friends, Jake and Jackie Urqijo, showed up with their trailer and four kids to assist with our children during the hunt. Soon after, Nash Clark, who is practically family to us, joined the camp.
That evening, we got news that would ultimately impact the outcome and tenor of the entire hunt. Our friends, Matt Cutlip and Cody Voermans, would be available to help us opening day. Cody, who was visiting from Montana to hunt Coues deer with Matt, a local hunting “legend,” had killed a nice buck early in his hunt. Since Cody had additional days to spend in town, they both decided to join our camp.
Opening morning, Nash, Matt, Cody, my husband, and I all arrived at our glassing spot at first light. We hauled out our tripods and binoculars and started to glass the east slope of the Silverbell Mountains. As the sun rose, the sheep emerged to soak up the sun, and less than five minutes later, Cody spotted the first ram. Every few minutes after that, additional sheep were spotted, and within half an hour, we were looking at 16 rams, including 3 definite shooters. One ram in particular, an old, sway-backed ram, long in curl and heavy in weight, called my name. There was only one problem. I had promised our friend, Chase Christopher, that I would wait for him to arrive and film the hunt for The Mountain Project. Unfortunately, Chase couldn’t be there until the following day, and not wanting to break my promise, we resigned ourselves to only watch the rams that first day. With only two tags in the unit, waiting was not as difficult as it might have been if other hunters were in the area. We spent that first day watching rams, cracking jokes, and making plans.
That evening and into the next morning, the rest of our friends arrived at camp. Chase arrived with another friend, Jim Graham, followed by Kevin and Brittany Passmore with their two kids. Jason Ponza, another avid local hunter and friend, also showed up to help. Before daylight, a caravan of trucks containing all 23 members of our camp, kids included, headed out to glass from the same location as the day before. Since we had spotted so many rams on opening day, we were fairly certain we would have a good opportunity and nobody wanted to miss it.
Setting up all the tripods and spotting scopes took longer than it did to spot the first band of rams. Unfortunately, the biggest ram spotted the day before wasn’t with them, and we all hoped he would reveal himself as we continued to glass. Minutes later, Nash announced that he had found our “number two” ram from the day before feeding on a nearby ridge. This sheep was not only a beautiful heavy-horned ram, but he was also in a position for everyone in our party to watch the stalk and be part of the hunt. For me, including everyone in the hunt or at least allowing them to watch from a distance was more important than waiting for the bigger ram. I decided right then that this was the ram I would try for.
It’s no secret that my husband gets a little excited when it comes to sheep hunting. Together, Lance and I decided the best chance for both of us to stay calm on a stalk would mean he would stay back while the calmest hunter in our group, Matt Cutlip, took the lead with Chase and Kevin following with the film gear. When I approached Matt to ask if he would guide me through the stalk, he agreed but cautioned me that he would have to leave to pick up his kids, so no matter what was happening, when his time was up, he would have to go. That meant if I wanted his help on this ram, we had to get moving right away. Before we left, several of the other men quietly pulled me aside to offer words of encouragement and remind me to stay calm. Those little exchanges meant more to me than they will ever know.
At this point, Matt, Chase, Kevin, and I started our stalk. Brittany, Kevin’s wife, graciously offered to sit behind the spotting scope, watching the ram for us, while Nash, Cody, Jason, and Jimmy headed for a higher vantage point to give us more eyes and a different perspective. Everyone else stayed to watch the kids, and the action behind binoculars, from afar. The ram was feeding down the ridge on the same path he had taken the day before, and the four of us quickly made our way three-quarters of a mile along a sand wash below the moving ram. Soon, we were within 350 yards and I tried to set up for a shot, but my position was too low for a clear line of sight. On top of that, the ram was moving in and out of brush and I couldn’t get a clear shot. Ultimately, the ram became aware of our presence and moved briskly out of sight up the drainage. I was disappointed and trying not to show it. Matt looked at me and said, “Don’t worry. It just wasn’t the right time. That would have been too easy. Come on! Let’s go get him.”
We cautiously climbed the next ridgeline to continue glassing and quickly found four rams across from us, but none of them were my ram. Unbeknownst to us, my ram had turned north after topping the ridge. When we found him, he was 1,000 yards away, feeding in a different direction than we had originally thought. We let him feed over the next ridge before making our move. At this point, I wasn’t sure that Matt had enough time to continue the stalk. He calmly assured me, “I have a little more time, but we have to go now.” With that, Matt turned and set a brisk pace straight up the mountain.
When we reached a high saddle, Matt relocated the ram and I set up for a shot as quickly as I could. Matt whispered range updates on the feeding sheep while Chase and Kevin captured the sequence on video. Sometime during this, the ram decided he’d had enough and it was time to change zip codes. As the ram moved, Matt continued to methodically, calmly, and patiently call out range updates while I waited for my chance. Just before the ram topped the far ridge, he paused for a split second, quartering away, and I knew with my entire being that this was my shot. For me, the world ceased to exist beyond God, the ram, the rifle, and my beating heart. I gently squeezed the trigger, and I instantly knew that I had killed my ram. I turned and glanced into the stunned faces of my hunting partners. Matt jumped up and engulfed me in a bear hug, “You did it! That was a 630-yard shot! You were ice!”
Unfortunately, Matt had to leave right then. After a few parting words and another congratulatory hug, Matt ran down the mountain. I have never witnessed a truer expression of friendship than what Matt offered me that afternoon.
Matt’ s boots were kicking up dust away from us while Chase, Kevin, and I headed further up the mountain to locate the downed ram. At that same time, all of the guys who were glassing from the bottom of the mountain grabbed their packs and headed up to meet us. Walking up on my ram, I was struck by the magnitude of the hunting experience harvesting this animal had provided. I was surrounded by truly good, kind men and women who had all given of themselves in various ways to make my hunt a success. In a short time, we could hear Nash, Cody, Jason, and Jim laughing and talking as they made their way up the mountain. My husband wasn’t far behind. As each eager face became visible over the cliff and each man could see the ram, pure joy floated in the air around us. I have never experienced anything like it, and likely, I never will again. We set up for pictures and then I had time to relax while Nash and Jason helped dress the ram. Together, we all enjoyed a necessary toast to the four winds in honor of the ram and Cody’s grandfather, soaking in every moment of a once-in-a-lifetime hunt.
With all of the help I had on the mountain, packing out the ram was easy. I couldn’t wait to get back down to camp and show the kids my ram. As we walked up to the truck, all of my kids ran up, yelling, “You did it, Mom!” My heart was full knowing that they were able to be a part of the experience. We took the time to take more photos and include those who had stayed behind during the stalk. Everyone deserved their moment with the ram. Shortly after, we loaded up and headed for camp where Nash and Jason finished skinning out the ram and the rest of us shared a campfire celebration.
I would like to say thank you to each and every member of our camp and especially to the men on the mountain: Matt Cutlip; Cody Voermans of Montana’s Proof Research; Chase Christopher and Kevin Passmore from The Mountain Project; Jim Graham from Marsupial Gear; Jason Ponza; and, of course, my husband, Lance Mitchell. All of these men played an integral part in the hunt; I cannot possibly thank them enough or convey what their presence meant. My Desert bighorn sheep hunt embodied what is possible when people who love hunting come together as family and as friends to help one of their own be successful. I was the lucky benefactor of it all. The company you keep, that’s really what matters.