Bones

What do skulls, puppies and wildlife photographers have in common? They were the ingredients for my incredible Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep hunt. I come from a family of hunting enthusiasts. I have wanted to chase a ram for as long as I can remember.

My Uncles and Grandpa have their Dall sheep mounts decorating their living rooms from a trip to the Northwest Territories in the late 80’s, and I can’t help but fixate on those rams when I am ever in their homes. I have been like most in Colorado and applying every year for one of the coveted Bighorn Sheep tags. That is where the ingredients started coming together.

In 2020 I harvested a big 6x6 bull elk late into second rifle season. A good friend of mine suggested an acquaintance of his that could do a nice European for me. That is where I met Tracy and Helen. They showed me their incredible trophies and in conversation I mentioned my desire to hunt sheep. Tracy told me how sheep are his biggest passion and if I ever drew a tag to let him know and he would help me get one.

The next piece came a couple years later when we purchased a puppy for my recently retired Father-in-law from one of my wife’s friends. When we went to their home to pick up the puppy, the first thing that caught my attention was a great set of Ram horns sitting in his living room. 2 hours later we were leaving and Geff asked me where I had been applying. He encouraged me to apply in unit S57, the Big Thompson canyon, and try to get one with my bow.

The final ingredient for me was a long-time family friend, Fred, is a wildlife photographer that does a lot of his work in Rocky Mountain National Park and of course the sheep that fill the canyon that leads to it. I have followed his work for years and thanks to his sharing on social media, I was able to watch all the Rams he captured in the Big Thompson. This further encouraged my desire to hunt one.

In April of 2024, I was on an online work meeting like any normal Tuesday morning. I was zoning out so I decided to glance at my social media. One of the groups I follow had a post mentioning that Bighorn Sheep tags were drawing.

I hesitated to look at my bank account, knowing I was more than likely going to be disappointed. I decided to look anyway and I almost fainted when I saw that there was a large charge by Colorado Parks and Wildlife.

I quickly logged off the call I was on and immediately called the first person that I had to tell. Tracy answered the phone on the first ring as if he was anticipating it. We immediately made plans to get a ram in December. He was along for the show.

Next, I raced into the house to tell my wife and kids the news. They were excited that they would get to help me prepare and scout for my ram. Still running completely on adrenaline, I texted Geff and Fred. Geff agreed to help be the muscle on the hunt and Fred was all in to help with the scouting.
I had my team put together, the expert, the muscle, the scout and the support.

Fred began combing through his pictures he had taken in 2022 and 2023. We found a few that were pushing between 8 and 9-years-old. Those rams, if they made it through winter, would be our hit-list.

This unit is not an expedition-type hunt. You don’t horseback
 
into a drop camp and rough it for days at a time. Instead, these are very accessible areas, much of which are right along main tourist routes for Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park.

The sheep here are fairly used to the tourists and photographers stopping at pull-offs to watch them. The entire unit is within a 30-minute drive of my house, so the plan is going to day hunt the area.

On July 29th, all my plans began to go up in smoke. Literally. The Alexander Mountain fire began right at the base of the Big Thompson canyon. My heart sank as the conditions fueled the blaze and it began to race up the canyon, torching all the sheep habitat in its path.

I called Tracy and he was very concerned by the reports of where it was tracking. It wasn’t until August 18th that the fire was finally contained 100 percent and travel was opened back up to the canyon.

It looked like a warzone. The hillsides that the bighorn sheep would use to rut in the fall were torched and resembled the moon’s surface. I was fearful that I would receive a call from Parks and Wildlife cancelling my hunt.

I gave it a couple of weeks and reached out to their office and was relieved to hear that I was still able to pursue a ram in the unit. Rumors were swirling of wildlife that had been caught in the fire and horror stories of possible casualties in the sheep herds. Hoping for the best, I knew I was going to have to lean on my team and we were going to have to look in areas that weren’t the normal target areas.

September came around and the elk rut hit. Fred was busy chasing the herds around the park to capture images of the rut. Tracy was taking in heads from the archery season for euro mounts and Geff was getting his shop setup to start processing big game animals.

I was training hard, hiking in the mornings, shooting my bow in the afternoon, and riding my exercise bike in the evenings. I was already double-checking my gear, making sure I had everything I could need.

One morning my wife asked when I was going to start driving up and looking for sheep. They should be moving into the canyons and looking to group up. She suggested we drop our daughter off at school and take a drive.

The canyon still was haunting with all the burn scars. We drove all the way to Estes Park and hadn’t seen a single sheep. After a quick lunch, I decided to take the route through Glen Haven and see what was around.

At this point we were just trying to find anything with fur or feathers to entertain my 4-year-old son. As we drove around a corner in the twisty canyon, my son squealed out, “SHEEP!” There, about 30 yards off the road was an absolute bruiser of a ram, dark chocolate in color, grazing away.

I quickly flipped around at the next turnout and raced back to where the ram was. My uncle gave me the advice that when I saw the right ram, I would know. This was the one I knew I wanted. I know that hunting with a bow, you must be flexible on what presents an opportunity, and this ram may not even be around in 2 months when the season opens.
 
We took a ton of pictures and then headed for home. I called Tracy and Fred and told them both about this ram. It was still very early, and Tracy said there would be a lot of time to catalog inventory of the sheep. Fred and I planned to return up the canyon in a couple of weeks to see if the chocolate ram was around.

As November was passing by, I was in the canyons at least twice a week. Most trips were my wife and I driving up after taking the kids to school. We were seeing sheep every trip that we made.

The ewes began moving around in groups of 4 to 8 and then rams started trailing them. I would find the chocolate ram almost every week. He wasn’t grouping up but instead staying solitary in one area.

I then noticed he was losing weight rapidly. One morning Fred and I went up and were on a mission to find this ram so he could get pictures of him. We went up the canyon without seeing him and then turned around to head back.

As we came back down, there he was! We pulled off and Fred began to work. He and I discussed the condition of the sheep, and it was then that we named him Bones. His horns looked massive. They were a very light brown color, especially compared to other rams we have seen.

He was also much darker than any other rams. This majestic king was in his decline and would probably not make it through winter. As we headed down the canyon, we would watch for vehicles pulled over which was usually a sign of wildlife nearby.

In the narrows, there was a group of cars pulled off looking up towards the top. We pulled in behind and realized one individual was a good friend of Fred’s. This is where I met Julie.

She and Fred had known each other for a long time and after some of the other people left, we informed her about Bones. After that, Julie became a very helpful scout and extra set of eyes on Bones. With all three of us watching him, we had eyes on Bones almost daily leading up to December 1st.
 
The day finally arrived. The archery ram tag for S57 goes for the entire month of December. The time and effort had been invested. I had 3 target rams that I would pursue.

The plan for day 1 was to dedicate completely to Bones. We knew this ram. His favorite bedding area, where he watered, his trails between each. The team was very confident we would at least get a stalk opportunity if we found him. First daylight broke and we eased around the bottom of the slope he liked and took up glassing positions.

Within the first couple of minutes, I had Bones located as he grazed down a ravine about 300 yards up. Geff and Tracy quickly setup spotting scopes to keep an eye on the ram. Fred moved further down the canyon to a different vantage point with his camera.

I began my ascent in a parallel ravine to the one Bones was coming down. I had quickly determined a route that would hopefully intersect me with his path to water. As with all sheep country, the terrain is very deceiving. Rocks that from the bottom looked like basketballs were the size of a Volkswagen Beetle when I got to them.

I climbed over and around obstacles to get to the point on the ridge between me and Bones. I was prepared as far as my stamina goes. I made it to the spot I wanted to ambush him in about 10 minutes.

It felt like forever because of how deceptively steep the last part of the climb was. I had to traverse it on all fours to keep from losing balance and falling. Between me and the ram was a very large boulder, about 15 ft across. It was time.

I had to ease around the rock to have a visual on the ram. There would only be a moment to take the shot if he was there. I knocked an arrow, paused for a couple extra breaths to calm my nerves. I took three gentle steps and was at full draw on the third step.

Suddenly, 15 yards away the ram stepped into view. He was broadside, angled down to my right. The big ram caught my movement out of the corner of his eye and froze to look.

That was my opportunity, and I released the Scheels Outfitters Vendetta arrow tipped with a 100 grain Montec G5 broadhead. The shot was solid. The ram turned and attempted to trot back up the draw that he came from. He moved up on the next ridge to a rock outcropping and then expired. What came next was in slow motion.

The ram fell out of view off a ledge. I heard the loud crash as he landed at the bottom, about a 30-foot fall. A flash of light brown flew and went crashing below.

I worked my way to where I last saw the ram. Below I could see Fred walking towards the side of the hill. Geff, Tracy and Helen were also headed my direction in along the road.

I reached the spot where the ram fell and looked below to see his dark chocolate form resting against a pine tree that was growing in the rocks. I found a path to him and made my way down.

Every part of me was shaking. The adrenaline rush had completely taken hold and was causing me trouble navigating the rough ground. Finally, I was at the ram.

He was magnificent. His color was even darker up close.
 
I then realized what that was I had seen flying. His skull had broken completely away at the base of the right horn. I sat down in complete admiration of this beautiful animal. I sat down next to Bones there on that rocky hillside and I cried.

They were tears of joy and gratitude for this animal’s life. Then came the cheering from below. My team was all there, Fred holding the missing horn in his outstretched hand to show he found it. A pickup pulled up just then and it was my uncle and cousin who had decided to take a drive and see how my hunt was going.

A short time later, Geff, Tracy and my uncle had scurried up the steep slope to me. I had moved the ram over to a spot that I could safely begin field dressing him. Tracy had the broken horn with him and we were able to hold it enough to take some pictures and then made quick work of the rest.
The pack-out was challenging as there wasn’t an easy route off the hill. We all slipped and slid our way down the slope. Most of the time on our backsides. Once we made it to the bottom, there were hugs and celebrations to be had. Julie even showed up to catch the end of the festivities.

My heart was beyond full. All the work and preparation came together in the end. My team was there to experience it with me.

Bones was a once-in-a-lifetime ram. He was 10 ½ years old, and 7/8 curl. His Pope and Young official score came in at 173 1/8”. We found out that his health was poor due to a fractured skull he has sustained during the summer months.

That also explained why the right horn had broken off. I am forever thankful to those that so generously offered their time and expertise in helping me achieve this milestone in my life.