Sheep Hunting 2023

Hunting the elusive full curl.

My husband, Michael, and I spent all year scheming and dreaming about our 2023 sheep hunt. We own a Piper PA14, a true backcountry bush plane that has all the right modifications to make it a great tool to support our hunt.

August was a strange month for Fairbanks, weather wise. Normally rainy, the rain didn't come, and our wildfire season was elongated and spread into the beginning of August. We were delayed by one day staging fuel on a remote river due to the thick smoke surrounding Fairbanks. This meant we would unfortunately get into sheep country after the season opened.

We left Fairbanks in the morning and flew above the smokey Yukon flats. To our relief, the smoke continually dissipated. Flying on average 80 knots, it would take us about 4 hours to make it to the mountains where we'd begin our hunt. I listened to a book on tape and was able to relax while we flew north. It was pretty cush! Alaska is beautiful, and the area around Fairbanks is great to fly around. But there's nothing quite like flying through the mountains. The views and colors that time of year were spectacular.

We landed at the strip and were greeted by a hunting guide who had his base camp at the runway. We were a bit nervous and weary to talk to the out of state guide, interactions in the middle of nowhere with someone who perceives the land as “theirs” may not go swimmingly. This can be a touchy conversation for us resident hunters. We were pleasantly surprised

to meet the friendliest guide! Dave, kindly let us know where his clients and guides would be traveling and we shared which direction we were headed, thankfully there was no conflict and we all had plenty of space. As we set up the bear fence around the plane, Dave even offered to watch over the plane while we were away and provide updates about it via GPS. Before we headed off, Dave was sure to wish us luck, and if we needed help of any kind, to reach out via the GPS. Michael and I reflected on our encounter with Dave, and both felt fortunate to have had such a positive experience with him.

With full packs, we tossed on our crocs and crossed the large, braided river that was up to our knees (keep this particular fact in mind for later). We traveled up a drainage and for the most part it was easy walking. We saw a group of ewes and lambs, that were being stalked by a lone grey wolf across the river on an opposing hillside. It was pretty fun to watch them while we trekked up the drainage. Because we flew in that day, we weren't legally able to shoot a ram even if we saw one. We decided to set up camp for the night on a bluff above the river.

The next morning, we continued on for a few more miles and then set up what would be our basecamp for the majority of the trip. We hiked and glassed but had yet to see any sign of life. We knew we were in big ram country because we were in the same valley Michael shot his ram two years prior.

Throughout the following days, we were fortunate enough to have moderate and enjoyable weather. One evening, we were tucked up into some rocks out of the wind in a great vantage point overlooking the valley. We spotted an immature ram at the very far end of the valley feeding. We hoped he'd have a few friends hanging around, so we decided to make the big trek up the remainder of the valley the next morning and then gain some serious elevation and peek into some new drainages. It felt great to get some miles under our legs with our lighter day packs and see some new country. We unfortunately did not see the ram again, or any other sheep for that matter although the country was littered with sheep and caribou sign.

Over the course of the next few days, we would trek, climb, and glass what felt like every inch of that drainage waiting for a bruiser to show himself. One day, we received a GPS text from our new friend Dave, warning us of a Polar Vortex coming in from the North. We downloaded the weather forecast from our GPS and it looked like we were in for some wind and rain over the next couple of days.

We spent the next two days in the tent for most of each day. Although we don't necessarily mind hunting in the rain (although it's not preferred), the low visibility hindered any opportunity we might have had at seeing an animal. I had the forethought ahead of this trip to download a few books on my phone, and we played about as many games of gin rummy and kings corner as we could. I often think about how I would love to avoid the hustle and bustle of life and be trapped in a tent with Michael, just the two of us. But let me tell you, actually doing it is not NEARLY as romantic as it sounds. We left the tent a few times in the rain, hail, and wind to glass, but visibility continued to be poor.

We decided to pivot our plan and move camp downriver. That night we hiked up a steep ravine and glassed at the backside of the hill we had watched the ewes and lambs days earlier, hoping there was an interested ram or two in the area. We spotted the ewes and lambs but no such luck on anything with a curl.

As our spirits lowered, the river raised with the new rain. Looking ahead at the forecast, and weighing the odds, we decided to leave and make it to the plane to give us more opportunities to safely fly out of the mountains. As we were leaving the drainage, we noticed a group of ewes and lambs on a saddle that we had been glassing all week. It was a “where the hell have you been?!” moment. We were discouraged, but the hunt was still on as we trekked out of the drainage. We ran into two caribou along the way and kept our eyes out for bears in the brush and dreamt of spotting a ram on the opposing hillside. In the beginning of our hunt, and throughout the hunt, we were able to keep our feet dry by jumping water, hop-scotching over boulders, etc. We realized there was no way we could safely navigate the water without our hiking boots on so we got our feet wet, and they stayed soaking wet as we tromped through the fast moving current for miles.

We made it to the main river that I had mentioned earlier in this story, and it was MUCH higher than before. We kept our packs on but unclipped them and had a conversation about if we went under, to lose the pack. We made it through one braided channel and were now standing on a gravel bar faced with the largest braid yet. Michael and I began to make it across and as the water hit my mid-thigh, it literally pushed me backwards over the rocks. I physically could not move forward, and realized I had to attempt to turn around. Michael, struggling on his own, made it across to look back and see me standing on the opposite side, with what I am assuming was a panicked look on my face. He dropped the pack and instantly walked up and down the river trying to find a shallower spot for me to cross. I walked down river and although deep, found a narrower braid to try to cross. My stomach was in my throat and as I tried to cross. The sheer force of the river was pushing my body weight, full pack, and rifle downriver over river rocks, it was scary. The river was so loud we had a hard time hearing each other over the roar.

I made it across the channel and Michael met me in a safe spot to help me cross the next. We made eye contact after, and I told him, "I did not like that" and he responded, "I know you didn't, that was not fun". We both don't scare too easily or let obstacles get in our way, but that river crossing is high on my list of uncomfortable moments.

We made it to the plane and a very happy Dave. He was a sight for sore eyes, and greeted us with margaritas, salmon lox roll ups, pistachios, and spaghetti for dinner. We were exhausted, but happy sitting in his tent talking and playing cards. Instead of setting up our wet tent, he let us sleep in one of his. Although we were in the middle of nowhere and supplies were limited, his generosity to two strangers is something that I'll never forget. He picked our brains about how we felt about non-resident hunters, guides, sheep population, wildlife management, and conservation. We were able to learn a lot about each other. With full stomachs and a warm buzz from the mountain margarita, we slept pretty good that night.

The next morning, we packed our gear in hopes the wind would die down, and the cloud layer would raise. We were in contact with a few people back in Fairbanks and the weather wasn't looking great there either. We waited a few hours and looking down the valley, felt like it was safe to leave. Dave wished us well and promised to stay in contact. We were off! Although we had a long trip ahead of us it was a relief making it out of the mountains after the weather we had experienced for the last 4 days.

We picked up our extra fuel on a river about halfway to Fairbanks and were greeted by two European rafters waiting for their air transport from Fairbanks, who would unfortunately not be coming that day due to weather. We realized they only had granola bars and a few snacks, so we gave them some extra dehydrated meals that we had. Flying over the Yukon flats, we were hit with a significant headwind and were traveling at 50 mph. That’s real slow for an airplane. We were relieved to see the White Mountains. We flew up a river that we regularly frequent from the air, and unfortunately had a relatively low ceiling. When we rounded a particular bend in the river, I figured we were 30 minutes away from Fairbanks and texted a friend asking her

to call us in a pizza to be picked up. "Phew, we're almost there!" I thought.

 

Wrong. We did not get our pizza.

The cloud layer was lower than the tops of the hills surrounding Fairbanks and we could not find a safe way to get through. It felt like we were stuck in a bowl. We agreed to land on a gravel bar and wait it out. Discouraged, tired, wet, we decided to sleep in the plane instead of setting up our soaking wet tent. Me, being a small person, felt pretty cozy snuggled up in the back of the plane. Michael, not such a little person, didn't quite share the same sentiment. I was woken in the early morning hours to him shaking me saying, "moose". A cow moose was literally standing underneath the wing of our plane.

We woke and explored the area a bit, but the weather was crummy. Light showers and low clouds hung around all day. Our contacts in Fairbanks told us the airport was operating under IFR (instrument flight rules), which our airplane and we are not equipped to do. We were on edge all day hoping we'd get a window where the clouds burned off or we saw a pocket to leave the valley. A break in the clouds made us hop in the plane to give it a shot, just to be disappointed when we got up to see the same thick line of clouds draped over the tops of the hills. We were so close to Fairbanks, almost a 30-minute flight which made us more anxious. At this point we were heavily feeling the effects of "get home-itis". Our external factors like work, PTO, dogs, life, were weighing us down and we both tried to talk the other one off the "going crazy in the woods with your spouse cliff". Although we hoped we'd be leaving soon, we both came to the realization we could potentially be out there much longer, and we rationed our food.

The next day we woke to a message that Fairbanks was looking better and although there was a low ceiling, there were pockets that we might be able to get through. We gave it a go and had to fly much further west then we normally would have to enter the Fairbanks airspace. As we flew over hill tops, and around clouds, we were silent, I think both holding our breath that we were going to make it. We crested the last hill and there she was, a sight for sore eyes, Fairbanks.

We landed safe and sound at the airport, unloaded our wet, stinky gear and selves into the car and headed home for a hot shower.

Even during these difficult moments, we were able to talk about what we were learning, what we would do different in the future, and really weighed our options as a team. I am SO proud of Michael for his piloting skills throughout this journey. There were some technical aspects of the trip, and tough decisions to make and he was calm, cool, and collected the entire time. I love being on his team when we're adventuring, but especially when times get tough. I can always count on him to fix whatever is broken. Unfortunately, his immense skill set does not include fixing the weather...we'll have to work on that.

A successful hunt to many people includes bringing home a trophy. To us, this trip met every aspect of the word success for us. We successfully used our plane to support our hunt, we successfully covered some beautiful country and hunted hard, we successfully enjoyed our time together as hunting partners, we successfully didn't kill each other when we spent two days in the tent, or two extra days 30 minutes from home watching the clouds.

I'm already dreaming of next year.

FAQ

I’m often asked similar questions from people who don’t sheep hunt, so I thought I’d answer them here.

What do we eat?

We split a dehydrated breakfast, and 1-2 dehydrated dinners depending on what our mileage looked like that day. I don’t need a lot of food, but Michael sure does. Throughout the day, we’ll snack on jerky, trail mix, power bars, meet and cheese for the first few days. Michael has Type 1 Diabetes that he manages exceptionally well. We carry specific food/drinks to help manage his blood sugar while he's working really hard.

What do you drink?

9 times out of 10 we are filtering our water. Mountain water is the best tasting water out there! We bring electrolyte packets to help with hydration and recovery. We drink instant coffee every morning, I’m lucky enough to have a hunting partner who makes it for me while I’m still in my sleeping bag. Spoiled, I know.

How much does your pack weigh?

My full pack weighs approximately 50-55 lbs. I carry a 6 lb hunting rifle.

Michael’s pack weighs approximately 60-65 lbs. He carries a 9 lb. hunting rifle.

How many miles do you hike?

One sheep hunt can average 40-60 miles in 5-10 days. On this trip, we hiked about 50 miles, and summited multiple 2,000 ft. peaks.

Is it hard?

Yes, it’s hard. The grueling aspects make it rewarding. It’s a cool experience to witness what your body is actually capable of. We both agree that your mind is your weakest attribute on a hunt like this. I lost about 7 lbs, and Michael lost about 12 lbs during this trip.

We get this one a lot, “I could never hunt with my spouse, how do you two do it”?

We are each other's favorite hunting partners. Exploring the backcountry and putting our bodies and minds to the test, together, is a really unique experience. We are a team, and count on each other to be safe and make trips like this successful. We both come from different backgrounds and have been on lots of hunts separately, so we value each other’s opinions and hunting style. Simply put, it’s our favorite thing to do together! Our marriage is truly the strongest when we’re in the backcountry and we wouldn't have it any other way.