ON THE ADVENTURE TRAIL

by Ken Nowicki

Down at Ruby’s it was story time. My old outfitter friends always have something to hold forth on, and I am always looking for tips on “where” to find big rams. To my frustration, they want to talk about “how” to hunt big rams, and I think I pretty much know all there is to know about that.

“And as the story goes,” intoned Packtrain MacNammee, with 50 years on the guiding and outfitting trails through the mountains from Alaska to Mexico, “The rams were on a timbered slope, maybe 1500 feet above the valley floor.” He looked at me. “Timber rams are hard to hunt.”

“Were there many,” I asked. “Where was this?” I call it the double entende—sort of a trick by asking two questions in one—I always hope he slips and answers the second.

“Just listen, Boy,” frowned Packtrain. “I’m trying to learn you about how to hunt sheep—what you need to do when you get rams timbered-up.”

I was fiddling with my new smarter phone—and he is always irritated with cell phones. “I have an app on this and can tell me how far they are and mark it with a GPS pin and calculate the angles and I could probably snipe the ram from the valley if it was only 1500 feet up that mountain.”

“Sure,” chimed in Lead-On Highfee, a venerable veteran of untold ram hunts as a guide from Pole to Pole, and he says, “What if those rams are screened by trees? You have to know how to stalk them and get up close and personal.”

“I can do that. I leave my guide to spot and I take a map on my phone and use satellites to give me a bird’s eye view. And my spotter can text me directions if the sheep move.” I gave them a smug look.

Just like that, Packtrain had me in a headlock. He clamped his fist and roared into my ear —“You listen you little smart-ass, and you listen good. You ain’t heared a word I said.”

Lead-On reached over and patted his old friend’s arm like a tap-out in the MMA. He could see my eyeballs were bulging. Then he fixed me with his beady eyes and said, “Them phones need to be banned. It’s not fair chase. Do you hear me?”

I was frothing and spitting and we were nose to nose. It was revolting because he smelled like chew and a rotten tooth. I was still in the headlock too.

“Everyone has a phone these days,” I gurgled when released. “Mine has a great camera too. I can take a picture right through the spotting scope. I can send it to and expert like you to age and judge the trophy quality. Like if it’s right on the line for legal you can give me an opinion.”

“I seen those kinds of pictures and I ain’t impressed.” Packtrain bobbed like a rooster and just finished establishing the pecking order. “That don’t take any skill.”

“In my hey-days, I was guiding four or five sheep hunts every fall, “Lead-On said. “You had to keep within hailing distance of your hunter. More better, you had your hand on his shoulder steering. Getting in close was the ultimate challenge and timber rams are some of the hardest to hunt.”

“You liked to get your hand right into his pocket,” giggled Packtrain, but Lead-On kept talking.

“Boy,” he continued, “To be both legal and ethical, you can’t use any kind of electronic communication for hunting.”

“Hmmm, but how do you pass a message? Like these days everyone texts, right?”

“You ever heard of semaphore? Everyone should learn how to use it. We learned how as basic woodcraft in the Boy Scouts, back when they was such a fine organization.”

“And Morse code. I learned it when I served in the Forces,” added Packtrain. “These aren’t lost arts kid. You just might find yourself up the creek without a paddle, with no dumbphone. Maybe you will run out of juice back in the boondocks. What then?”

“I recall the air traffic controller’s strike when Reagan called their bluff. Us old pilots got along just fine. We kept our separation with old-time radio skills. I never even heard of GPS back then.”

“I also remember old Midnight Anderson picking me up on a mountain top. He turned when I flashed him a signal and guess what I used? I used this silver buckle I won riding bronc at the Calgary Stampede.”

Packtrain leaned back in his stool and pulled off his belt, all stained and sweaty and showed me the back made of shining silver. It was a work of art.

Lead-On promptly yarded his own belt off and proudly displaced his sheep buckle won for the biggest ram of the year at the Outfitter’s Annual Shindig. “I done it a time or two,” he said.

“Ok,” I said. “What about timber rams? How do you hunt them?”

“You make like a lizard and crawl. That way you don’t scrape any branches. One time I crabbed half a mile with my hunter. I poked my nose over a rock and there was a ram 40 yards away looking right at me in a little gully. I froze and moved real slow and beckoned with my hand at the sport. Nothing.”

“I give the come-hither signal and waited and waited. The ram just laid there staring at me. I was pinned.”

“Where was that hunter? I had to roll an eye to the side and back, like a reptile, and I see the guy is about 40 yards up the hill and he can’t see me. I had to get him to look down.”

“Know how? I tried to whistle but there was a big chew right under my upper lip. So, I give a coo-coo-coo like a dicky bird and he looks down and sees me and I’m twirling my hand over my backside to come hither. He’s smart and starts hitching down on his behind and I bend my finger left and then give him the trigger pull sign. He nods and eases up and shoots and bags a huge ram.”

“Wow, wow, wow,” was all I could say. That was a great story.

“Turns out that guy spent time in Vietnam out in the jungle and he and his fellow veterans were experienced at hand signaling. I felt really good about that stalk.”

“Well, thanks, I’ll pay for coffee. Bottom’s up,” I said and I drained my cup and headed for the door to pay by tapping my phone.

I looked back and I didn’t say a word when the old codgers stood up with buckles and belts in hand and had their pants drop to the floor. WS

Editor’s note: Nowicki, lives near Cranbrook, B.C. and learns about the finer points of sheep and sheep hunting from some of the old-time outfitters in the area. He has researched the Bone and Stone Club and googled on his phone for rules on fair chase and found out that Lead-On and Packtrain are correct. It is not fair chase to use any electronic communication during a sheep hunt. He is currently writing an essay with information gleaned from professional guides and hopes to give a seminar at the next Wild Sheep Convention, in Reno.

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