Up where the billy goats screw the eagles.
After more than a quarter century
of unsuccessfully attempting to draw a Montana Special Tag (moose, goat, sheep)
and acquiring the accompanying collection of apparently useless “Bonus Points”,
I broke down and did an unlimited bighorn sheep hunt this year just so I could
say I at least got to hunt one.
Montana’s five “unlimited” bighorn sheep
districts represent the only chance in the Continental US to simply purchase
rather than draw a sheep tag. This opportunity exists only because the
districts in question are in some of the roughest, steepest and most isolated grizzly-infested
wilderness areas in the nation outside of Alaska. Outdoor
Life once called this the toughest hunt in the country.
I solo scouted and hunted District
#300 up Tom Miner Basin
which, unlike the other unlimited districts, has an early hunting season
running the first ten days of September. I went northwest of the main drainage
to avoid what I found out in 2016 was a bit of a circus further south along the
Yellowstone National Park boundary line. I did come
down out of the hills twice to take a day off, rejuvenate and eat like a
starving bear. I took in a food cache with my pack goats on my last scouting
trip and while hunting packed as light as humanly possible. It would have been
too light if it had been colder but we were blessed with good weather that
allowed me to just sleep out under the stars. I managed to waddle around up in
the high country pretty well for a fat guy over fifty with a long list of
injuries, but the furthest distance I went in one day was only four miles and
even then the goats had to schlep all the weight. Normally I didn’t cover more
than a mile or two when I did move camp. I had tried to get in condition with
mountain hikes all summer but should have tried much harder. Some of the slopes
kicked my butt physically but I still had a ball.
Quite a few years, pounds and miles
have passed since I last spent much time above timberline. With the cool, clear
air, high viewpoints and seemingly endless vistas it’s kind of magical up
there. Even crusty old Elmer Keith felt it and waxed poetic about the high
country.
“Have you ever seen a mature
bighorn ram silhouetted on the sky line of his rugged domain? If so, then you
know that no word picture can ever quite do him justice. Ranging at or above
timberline, no other animal so typifies, or is so symbolic of, the rugged
grandeur of the lofty snow-covered peaks, beautiful glacier-fed lakes and
alpine meadows of the Rocky
Mountain chain. Some of
the wildest, roughest and most beautiful country that God ever made.”
I put in many hours of glassing
with high quality Swarovski binos and spotting scope but still only saw four
other hunters off in the distance the entire trip. I actually glassed sheep
every morning and/or evening, spotting them anywhere from the thick timber way
down below the cliffs to the very tops of the peaks and ridges. Of course,
every last one of them was a ewe, lamb or juvenile. I never did see a mature
ram the whole time despite all the intense glassing.
Mostly below me there were tons of wapiti full
in the rut everywhere I went, including a 5-point and his harem way the hell up
on South Twin Peak
(10,181 feet) just below the communication site one morning. One night with a
good moon I slept atop a knife ridge and had bulls bugling away on either side
of me most of the night. I saw some mountain goats most days as well, from
loners up to one bunch of nine, but I only saw one or two stray mulies per day
up that high. The only grizzly I saw was better than two miles away and at
least 2,000 feet below me on Rock Creek. I never even saw any fresh grizzly
sign up high; they all seemed to be down low in the main creek bottoms going
after the berries and chokecherries. Other than learning some of the country
much better and finding out where the rams were not, I did recall some old and/or
re-learn a few new mountain hunting lessons.
- A
Forest Service road listed as a “Dirt Road Suitable For Passenger Cars”
actually requires a high-clearance, armored and fully-tracked “passenger
car” along the lines of an M113 Armored Personnel Carrier. I bottomed out
my F-150’s work duty suspension and hit the frame on more than one
occasion and I’m pretty sure I was throwing up a good bow wave with my
bumper in one particular mudhole. I used the granny low side of the
transmission both up and downhill just to keep my pace down to a slow
enough crawl that I didn’t rattle the fillings out of my teeth. A saw and
a tow chain came in handy on a couple of particularly big blow-downs.
- Good
boots are priceless: They were rather heavy, since they say one pound on
the foot equals four pounds in the pack, but I did good with some
seemingly indestructible all-leather Austrian Army surplus mountain troop
(Gebirgsjaeger) boots.
All my wife got out of this picture was that I hadn't worn matching socks.
- Slow
and Steady. I learned a long time ago to sidehill back and forth up steep
slopes and to proceed slowly with short steps, just so long as you keep
putting one foot in front of the other. And it’s often better to take the
long way around the head of a drainage following the contour lines than
lose and regain all that altitude dropping down to cross it. Once you gain
the top of a ridge stay with it as long as you can.
- Walking
stick(s)/Trekking Pole(s): I don’t know how I managed to ever get along
without these for the first forty years. I think they reduce fatigue a
great deal simply by helping you keep your balance. And my wife used hers
as a dandy bipod when she filled her ewe tag over by Anaconda about ten
years back.
- Never
miss a chance to fill your water bottles whenever you come across any
water source. They are few and far between up high and it can be a real
balancing act when it comes to carrying enough water without adding too
much weight. I wound up lugging a gallon in three canteens…that’s 8 pounds
in case you were wondering. I carry an old folding handle USGI canteen
cup, too; it comes in handy for dipping out of tiny rivulets too small to
submerge a water bottle in. I brought powdered Gatorade mix and drank one
quart of that for every two quarts of water. On one scouting trip I got
water from a big snowbank tucked into a hollow high on a north-facing
slope…ten days later while I was hunting it was all gone. On another scout
I filled water bottles directly from a beautiful tiny spring in a small
meadow at the edge of the whitebark pines; a week later, it was one big
muddy reeking elk wallow that plugged my filter.
Never miss a chance to fill up with water in the high country.
- It’s
colder than you think. On average, you lose 3-5 degrees of air temperature
for every thousand feet in elevation gain. In very dry air, and we often
have extremely low humidity in August and September, the temperature can
drop as much as one degree for every 150 feet of elevation gain. When you
get up to elevations approaching 10,000 feet, on a bright, sunny day the
air temperature in the sun versus the air temperature in the shade can
vary by as much as forty degrees. The clear air up high undergoes both
rapid heating and cooling; as soon as the sun dips down behind a peak to
the west, one immediately feels the heat loss. Winds are common in the
mountains as well, adding the effect of wind chill. I always carry a Gore-Tex jacket in my fanny pack. When you
stop hiking and start glassing on some high point, the wind may get to you
quickly. In such cases I don the Gore-Tex mainly as a windproof layer as
well as a shell to hold in body heat. In some cases, if it’s warm and
you’ve worked up a good sweat hiking in, it’s worth the effort to strip
down and change into a fresh, dry base layer. I usually use Under Armor as
a base layer. Despite the very good weather, on some exposed points in the
evenings I had to add a vest, stocking cap and wool gloves.
Pack light, freeze at night.
Sunscreen and
chapstick are two other good items to have, and maybe a hat with a broad brim.
I live at 5,500 feet and am out in the sun all summer and I still got some
sunburn on my face and arms.
I have to put
back in a drawing for a limited bighorn district next year or lose all those
valuable bonus points which have yet to do me any good but I plan on doing the
#300 unlimited again in 2020, the Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise. I
will, however, be doing many, many
more pre-season conditioning hikes prior to the next go-round. The better shape
you’re in, the more you’ll enjoy it.
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