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STAN NEITLING'S DALL SHEEP HUNT

by Shane McCarthy

We woke up to a warm sun shining through the yellow and blue nylon of the tent. The warmth felt good. The first hunt here in the arctic had been cold and wet. We had shivered ourselves silly looking for sheep. Now on the second hunt Stan Neitling and I were being blessed with some beautiful weather. And when the weather is good there isn't any place on earth more beautiful than the Brooks Range in August.

This hunt had started off with the usual preparations of sorting, cleaning, packing, preparing food and equipment, that is half the fun of being a guide. Then the clients arrive, and the excitement begins. The Hunters always bring with them a certain optimism that is totally infectious. The smiling faces, the warmth of a handshake as greetings are exchanged. Those anxious, expectant looks that are cast towards the stark gray mountains that thrust upward from the dark spruce that line the wide valley of the Chandalar River. These mountains are Home to the White Sheep that will be the focus of the next ten days of hunting.

We were all waiting at base camp for Larry to get back from scouting wondering who he would put out first, who would be hunting together, and where we would be going.

Three guides and myself were working on some last minute details near the airstrip when Larry circled and banked his blue and white Super Cub into final over the bright yellow willows off the end of the gravel runway. He landed the Cub with a soft bounce on the uneven gravel. Larry hopped out just as the hunters came up the trail from Main camp.

Larry quickly asked if Stan and I would mind hunting together, then explained that we could hunt a side valley that was a tributary to the Chandalar a few miles down stream. That settled it. We took off with a minimum of gear in our packs for a walk that didn't end till the wee hours of the morning, after stomping over endless miles of tundra and gravel bars for hours. We finally got up on a band of eight rams just to seem them go over the ridge before we could get off a shot. A long climb down then we had to thread our way through the many channels of the river in the dark, but we managed to survive and finally got to the camp Larry had landed and set up for us. Oh, how great that sleeping bag felt that night. The next day the Sky Chief shuttled us up to Long Creek, a spot where we had been seeing some activity. We had hunted Long Creek for three days passing a ram of about 35 inches on our first day up the valley. On the way up the valley to look at the band that this ram was in we stopped for a short break on a low ridge. After the long walk the through the dark Spruce, Poplars, and Willows that were alive with fall colors, the break felt good. After easing my pack off my shoulders to stretch I started glassing up the valley. I hadn't looked long when I spotted the sheep. He was on a mountain that looked like a fortress. The ram was right at the bottom of the real steep stuff that came about halfway down the mountain.

Stan and I watched the ram for a while, realizing that he was a real good sheep. The only problem was that he had worked his way up and bedded on the top of a pinnacle with no way to approach within shooting distance. We sat and discussed the ruggedness of the terrain and the size of the ram for about 2 hours. Little did we know how well we would get to know that mountain before we got done.

The next 3 days we spent playing hide and seek with the sheep in the great rocks. It seems that every time we would spot the ram we would get up on the mountain and the sheep would disappear. Finally on the fourth day we spotted him at the bottom of the steep stuff, but with no cover for us for a long way up the valley. With a little creative climbing we managed to get in position for Stan to make a real nice running shot at about 30 yards as the ram jumped out of his bed.

After the excitement of the stalk had worn off, we began to realize what a really great sheep he was: he taped out at 40 3/4", a great sheep for a really good hunter. We slept great that night after a long walk home. Larry picked us up the next morning for a day at main camp, then out to hunt caribou. Stan's luck came through again, and on the second day we scored on a real nice caribou. Stan, thanks for a great hunt, hope we can do it again soon.

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