Story By: Tom Trapp
I put in every year for sheep, elk, deer, and bison tags in nearby states and buy raffle tickets for sought after tags all over the western United States. This tag was no different; I put my name in the bucket and hoped for the best.
While my wife and I were driving from our home in Wyoming to Nevada, I decided to get on my phone and check my emails since it was her turn to drive. Thumbing through the list, I ran across a notification that the Nevada results were out. I clicked on the link and put in my info, which took me to my results. NR Silver State Nelson Bighorn Successful. My heart dropped, as did my phone service. Unable to really register what I had just read and unable to get clarification, I felt the anticipation would kill me!
Finally, service. I logged back in and saw my name next to the word “successful”. I couldn't believe what I was reading, so I asked my wife to read it. "Does it say successful for the Silver State Bighorn tag?" I asked. She confirmed, and I explained to her that the odds of winning that tag were extremely small. Something must have gone wrong with the results—there must be a mistake. I decided I had better get a third opinion, so I called my brother Bill to confirm yet again. He was as excited as I was.
I had drawn the Silver State Sheep Tag for Nevada. So many thoughts were racing through my head. When does the hunt start? Which area should I check out? Should I get a guide? What is the temperature in the Nevada mountains?
My research started: I was reading, calling hunting buddies, and talking to past hunters. I really started looking forward to the hunt. This would be my once-in-a-lifetime hunt! Between the Rocky Mountain ram I took a few years prior and this desert sheep, I would be on my way to a Grand Slam.
Within a week, the news had spread, and I was being contacted by numerous outfitters and guides, along with many friends and new acquaintances who were all filling me up with information. One outfitter really stood out to me. He had a great understanding of the area. We spoke on the phone a few times, and our personalities really matched. He shared some hunting stories and a few of the photos of the big sheep that he and his team had been watching. After a few weeks of talking, I decided that was the guy I wanted to assist me in harvesting a sheep. He was with Silver State Guides and Outfitters. The team consisted of four men: Colby Egge (Sheep Whisperer), Jared Dimick (Eagle Eye), Baelin Borg (lronman), and Dusty Gilbertson (Bobcat).
We made a plan. Before the hunt opened on July 1, it would probably be best to go scout for a few days. I went to a few places on my own. I just wanted to check out the terrain, the layout—see what I was in for. Colby also let me tag along with his crew to scout. The heat was intense. I learned that you can never have enough fluid to drink; taking over three gallons is normal for someone not acclimated to the incredible heat. One wrong move and dehydration or over-heating can become a permanent problem.
The big day came. I left my place before 2:00 a.m. After an hour drive, I met up with the guys, we piled into a side-by-side, and the adventure was on! We drove for a while, parked at the base of the mountain, and started our climb. We carried everything we would need for the day: a few snacks, optics, and gallons of water.
The guys advised me to be careful where I put my hands. After seeing scorpions and tarantulas the size of my hand, I understood what they meant when they said the desert was alive. The hike up the mountain wasn't too bad. It was still dark and, at a brisk eighty-five to ninety degrees, relatively cool.
We were on the hunt for the sheep my crew called the Golden Ram. They’d been watching him for years, and, for years, he’d avoided hunters. We searched for him and came up empty handed for three days.
While out glassing the valley, Jared spotted the Golden Ram. He was coming over a high saddle. We quickly devised a plan. Colby and I would work to get closer to the ram, staying out of sight while the rest of the crew kept eyes on him. As we narrowed the distance, we were told that the ram was headed back toward the saddle where he was first seen with two other rams in tow. We covered as much ground as fast as we could. Our crewmates said we only had one to two minutes left to take the shot. We put down our packs, and Colby use them to make a rest for me. We were having a few issues with our range finder, but I got the okay to take the shot. I squeezed the trigger right as the ram went over the hill.
The crew was filming, and, after reviewing the footage, they told us that it looked like a miss. We decided we needed to make sure, so the hike to the saddle to look for blood was on. Baelin also headed to the saddle from the lower location and beat us there, giving me a better understanding of why his nickname is lronman. I guess it pays off to be a runner.
There was no blood, no Golden Ram. It was a clean miss, and I was heartbroken. We left the location feeling a little defeated. Dusty gave me tough love. He said, "We have hunting to get to, so stop moping around and get your chin up." He definitely helped me cope with the miss.
A few more days of scouring the area for the ram left us empty handed. We decided to take a week off. We needed to recoup from the heat, which had been well over a hundred degrees each day, and we could all use a day off. That week was hard on me; I hadn’t gotten the Golden Ram, the one that they had been watching for years.
Before I came back to Nevada, Colby and I worked on a game plan. He informed me that a gentleman with the Governor’s Tag was going to be in the area looking for the Golden Ram and that our paths would most likely cross on the mountain. Colby said there was another giant sheep they had been watching in a different mountain range. He said that we could keep looking for the Golden Ram, or we could go try to find the Giant. I chose to go find the Giant.
We started our day at a new location on a new mountain range under that same hot sun, and guess who we saw coming down the cliff face the first morning—the Giant. Colby and I closed the distance, Baelin kept eyes on him, and Jared tried to get to where he could film the shot a few peaks over. We got within 450 yards. Colby said the magic words: “Take the shot. We don't want to pop out in the open and scare him off.” The ram was walking away from us. The trail he was on turned, leaving him quartering away. Breathe... Squeeze ... THWACK!
We heard the bullet connect, but the ram was still on his feet. I got off a follow-up shot. The ram dropped and came to a rest lower on the hill. I hiked to the ram and was amazed at how heavy he was, not only in his horns but also in his body. He really was a giant. Everyone showed up, and we took some photos. Jared told me that he didn't have time to get into position to film the shot, though he had some incredible footage of my miss on the Golden Ram. We dressed the Giant and trekked back under the blazing sun, smiling ear to ear.
I had the Giant plugged at the Nevada Department of Wildlife, sent his cape to a taxidermist, and got the meat cut up and frozen—all within a few days. I didn't get the Golden Ram, but I shot an even better giant. He officially scored 175 5/8" net in Boone & Crockett after the sixty-day drying period. My once-in-a-lifetime hunt was a true success.
The Golden Ram was shot by the Governor’s Tag holder. My crew, Silver State Guides and Outfitters, were there to assist on that hunt as well. They were remarkable to work with, and if I ever return to hunt in Nevada, I know I can count on them to be successful. Thank you, Silver State Guides and Outfitters, for putting me on two incredible rams and for your research and relentless drive.