How does one start a story that was years in the making? I dreamed of sheep hunting with my kids long before I even met the woman who would be his mother, and when he was an infant, the sheep-themed baby clothes were not unintentional. Or did this story start when I first hunted this area - which happened to be the year when his mother finally took a sheep of her own after many years of trying? The past several years of hoping to get into the field, only for life to get in the way? I suppose we’ll start somewhere simpler - two and a half weeks ago as the first days of August approached.
My son is 17, and we’re fortunate that Alaska provides an incredible opportunity for our young hunters with an early youth season. They get a bit of a head start - an early 5 day season while the days are still long and the weather a bit more mild. We had been hoping to go on his first sheep hunt for the past several years, but those who know my story…well, life has had more than its share of challenges and unexpected detours. As this fall approached, my son made it clear that he really wanted to give a sheep hunt a real try. I had originally planned on taking him into a relatively mild area for his first experience. Of course, there is no such thing as an “easy” sheep hunt, but I didn’t want to break his spirit on his first attempt. That said, he is 17 and we only had one shot at this during the early season. He worked all summer as a commercial fisherman (setnetting in Bristol Bay and longlining for halibut and sablefish), so…I figured we should skip easing into it and go right to the varsity level terrain in an area that I knew well and which I expected might hold a legal ram.
On the morning of the 31st, I headed out with a heavy camp while my son drove part of the way to where we planned to hunt. After dropping camp at the strip, I flew an hour back to meet him. Weather almost prevented us from making it back to our base camp, but thankfully the clouds parted and we were able to make it to our destination. Immediately upon getting settled, my son pulled out his journal and began to write. He shared some of this with me later - it truly warmed my heart.
Based on the forecast, I expected to spend the next day in base camp trying to stay dry. The clouds lifted momentarily the next morning, though, and I quickly spotted five rams in the distance. They were several miles away, so I couldn’t tell whether they were legal. After waking my son, though, we decided that we would head that way for a closer look. The weather promised to be wet for another day or so, but our spirits were high and we had reason for hope!
The rain held off…for about 45 minutes. We thankfully made it through the worst of the brush before it became wet, but soon we pulled on our raingear. My son thought we had a chance at making a play on those rams that same day, but I knew this country from previous experience - it takes far longer to go anywhere than one might expect due to all of the ravines, creek crossings, and elevation gain and loss. As such, I made sure that we were in no hurry. Short naps were certainly in order on occasion. My son thought he was tired then, but he had no idea of what was to come.
After several miles of hiking and no small amount of elevation gain, we came to the same place I had camped with his mother several years ago.
My son is 17, and we’re fortunate that Alaska provides an incredible opportunity for our young hunters with an early youth season. They get a bit of a head start - an early 5 day season while the days are still long and the weather a bit more mild. We had been hoping to go on his first sheep hunt for the past several years, but those who know my story…well, life has had more than its share of challenges and unexpected detours. As this fall approached, my son made it clear that he really wanted to give a sheep hunt a real try. I had originally planned on taking him into a relatively mild area for his first experience. Of course, there is no such thing as an “easy” sheep hunt, but I didn’t want to break his spirit on his first attempt. That said, he is 17 and we only had one shot at this during the early season. He worked all summer as a commercial fisherman (setnetting in Bristol Bay and longlining for halibut and sablefish), so…I figured we should skip easing into it and go right to the varsity level terrain in an area that I knew well and which I expected might hold a legal ram.
On the morning of the 31st, I headed out with a heavy camp while my son drove part of the way to where we planned to hunt. After dropping camp at the strip, I flew an hour back to meet him. Weather almost prevented us from making it back to our base camp, but thankfully the clouds parted and we were able to make it to our destination. Immediately upon getting settled, my son pulled out his journal and began to write. He shared some of this with me later - it truly warmed my heart.
Based on the forecast, I expected to spend the next day in base camp trying to stay dry. The clouds lifted momentarily the next morning, though, and I quickly spotted five rams in the distance. They were several miles away, so I couldn’t tell whether they were legal. After waking my son, though, we decided that we would head that way for a closer look. The weather promised to be wet for another day or so, but our spirits were high and we had reason for hope!
The rain held off…for about 45 minutes. We thankfully made it through the worst of the brush before it became wet, but soon we pulled on our raingear. My son thought we had a chance at making a play on those rams that same day, but I knew this country from previous experience - it takes far longer to go anywhere than one might expect due to all of the ravines, creek crossings, and elevation gain and loss. As such, I made sure that we were in no hurry. Short naps were certainly in order on occasion. My son thought he was tired then, but he had no idea of what was to come.
After several miles of hiking and no small amount of elevation gain, we came to the same place I had camped with his mother several years ago.
