Black Rock Magic - By Michelle Lynn Davis |
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When my dad called in June and said, “Sis you better start walking,” I knew I had drawn a good tag. Since my mom had drawn TWO bighorn sheep tags the year before, I never thought I would draw one the next year. I couldn’t believe it when my dad told me I had drawn area 034, the best area in the state. I was so excited I couldn’t wait to start telling everyone I knew that I had drawn a California Bighorn Sheep tag near Gerlach, in the Black Rock Range. It was going to be the hunt of a lifetime.
Around our house, preparations for hunting season start at the beginning of June, and end …… well, in May. Needless to say, my dad started preparing the minute he heard. I was instructed to start walking every day, by my sometimes over-zealous dad, and given catalogs to find the right colored camouflage clothes, shopping trips to Sportsmans Warehouse (we should have bought stock), scouting, target practice, you name it and we did it.
After my Big Horn Sheep indoctrination, my dad, my son, and I packed up and drove to my area to do some scouting. Dad decided to pack in a case of water to where we would probably be camping, near the top of the mountain. We arrived after dark and set up camp. I woke the next morning and got my dad on the radio; he was already nearly to the top of the mountain! While my son played in the sand, I really began to look at the mountain side that I would be hiking very soon. Needless to say, I increased my walking schedule to accommodate my new discovery.
Finally, August came, and it was time to pack up. The moment was here, and the nerves started in. I was especially nervous because the area that I had drawn pretty much guaranteed that I had to get a big ram, or risk utter humiliation. Compounding my nervousness was the fact that Sean Shea, a friend of my dad, who owns The Head Master, Inc. guide service, would be coming with us. Another friend of my dad, Shawn Sliter, would also be coming along. I had grown up around hunting, guns and the outdoors, but now I am preparing to leave for the biggest hunt of my life, with a bunch of guys who should have been born with horns and hooves!
When we arrived at camp Thursday night everything was already set up; my dad is always so prepared. I was too nervous to sleep, and when the guys fell asleep I tossed and turned for hours. Could I live up to their expectations? Sean Shea, had stayed on the mountain that night with a group of rams that were decent sized. Friday morning we got up around 4:30 to meet him on the mountain. I hope you realize that it was still a full 24 hours before the season opens, and these guys had big plans to be at the TOP of the Black Rock Range when the sun came up opening day.
When I saw the mountain range, for the second time, I sure was grateful that my dad had made me start walking in June. It was intimidating to say the least, and it certainly looked bigger and steeper up close. Nevertheless, by about noon we were near the top of the mountain and had picked a spot to camp……a superbly comfy pile of rocks! One of the things I remembered from the indoctrination was that there would be a lot of waiting during sheep hunts. Waiting and walking. Let me tell you, they weren’t wrong, but the waiting was killing me. I wanted to find my monster in a terrible way.
Again I had a hard time sleeping, although I wasn’t sure this night whether it was from nerves, or my particularly comfortable pile of rocks. Finally, opening morning came and I was ready to go. We packed up camp and set out on a mission. Dad stayed behind to finish packing up, Shawn went the opposite way to get to a ridge where he could glass, and I took off up the mountain with Sean. About ¾ of the way up the mountain I started to get worried about my dad. He hadn’t caught up, and it was still dark outside. We waited, for what seemed like forever, and I was getting really nervous. Sean said we should keep going because Dad knew where we would meet if something happened. I normally will follow my dad anywhere on a mountain, but I had never hunted with Sean, and wasn’t quite sure how to take his direction.
We side-hilled around the rim of what I thought had to be the tallest mountain in Nevada, only to come in contact with a whole other set of even steeper, taller mountains. I would have really started to worry, but up ahead I saw my dad sitting on a rim with 3 other hunters. I was not at all surprised that my dad had found a faster way up the mountain and had beaten us, but I was furious. We did all the work, hiked in over 24 hours ahead of time, climbed insanely steep mountains, and here we sat with another hunter who might find my monster first.
After a little small talk my dad suggested we head South, and the other hunters would head North. I would like to think that the agreement came so quickly because the range my dad picked was insanely gnarly. I took a deep breath and started walking. The first ridge we came to shocked me immensely. There was a huge gully, and no way to go but down. I had never seen mountains like this, where you could be at the top of a mountain range, and have to go down to get up. Again I sucked it up and followed my dad. I knew we were in some intense country when my dad said, “Let’s take a break.” As long as I can remember, there were no “breaks” when we were hunting. I have never been more grateful to stop, as I was really struggling to keep up with my dad.
Around noon that day we finally spotted a nice ram, and my heart started racing. This was it - the big moment was finally here! We snuck around a huge mountain, and finally found a good spot with a huge rock that all three of us could hide behind. My ram was in with a group of four other decent rams, and we had to wait for him to separate from the rest. I have never in my life been so anxious for something that would never come. We waited for three hours for a shot, and it never came. Had I really walked all these miles in the most beautiful, but brutal country, only to have to leave? It was getting dark, we were out of water, and about 3 miles from the truck. I was utterly despondent.
We finally arrived at the truck after dark and by the time we got back to camp I was exhausted. Shawn had to leave that day, and I wasn’t sure that I could do this again the next day. But I did. Again, we were out of bed by 4:30 and back in the truck. I was incredibly grateful that my dad decided to start glassing at the bottom of the mountain; he must have sensed my exhaustion. I stayed in the truck while he got out and started spotting the mountainside. After about 30 minutes he jerked open the truck door and said he had found the big one. Literally 30 seconds later, I heard Sean on the radio telling us to get up there, he had found the monster. To reiterate what incredible hunters these guys are, I have to tell you that Sean was about ¾ of a mile into the mountain, two valleys over, and my dad was at the bottom, and these guys spotted the same ram. I’m always amazed by what my dad can find in his spotting scope.
My desperation left and I was, again, ready to go! We entered into the steepest gully you have ever seen. We actually had to climb some cliffs to get to where we were going. Sean and my dad kept talking back and forth on the radios about how they couldn’t believe such a big ram was so low in the mountain. I’m ready for this short jaunt up the hill, when in reality he was, again, about half way up the range. Nevertheless, I followed my dad until we met Sean, where the two canyons met. We were walking along the bottom of the gully when my dad makes his famous “get down” face.
Unfortunately, the sheep spotted us out in the open. It is the end of August and I am lying on my stomach in the middle of the desert in a pile of rocks. And yet, I am so excited I can hardly breathe. Dad and Sean decide that it will be best if someone stays to keep an eye on the ram. My dad stayed behind, and I follow Sean further up the canyon. I was informed we were going to sneak on a ram that is about 450 yards away, but we have to crawl to get there. And by crawl, I mean slide around on the crumbling rock.
We begin the sneak and I am trying so hard to be quiet….did I mention the rocks were crumbling. No matter how bad my legs burned, or my knees ached, I was not going to make a noise. It seems however, that Sean didn’t think I was so quiet. You would have thought I was beating on drums the way that he kept looking back at me. I was so nervous my mouth was dry. I had left my dad behind and was trying desperately to sneak on the biggest ram I had ever seen, without my dad; I have NEVER shot anything in my life without my dad standing next to me.
We finally made it to a spot where we could stand up and walk without being seen. At this point we came to the bottom of the steepest mountain I had ever seen. I didn’t think there was any way I could climb this mountain; every step that I took, I would slide down two more. I finally realized that by shoving the butt of my gun into the ground I could get enough leverage to make it up the mountain. And we finally did make it to the top. We stopped just below the ridge and took a break.
I couldn’t believe it! When I finally poked my head over the rocks to get a better look, the biggest ram was standing directly behind another ram. I was so frustrated I sat down and wanted to cry. I was exhausted, and dying of thirst. Sean and I had not brought any water with us because, to make the final stalk, we had left our packs with Dad.
Once he realized we were settled in, my dad made his way to where we were, and I instantly relaxed. My dad was with me, I had water, and my ram was just over the rim. And then? Shortly after my dad reached us I looked up one more time……he was clear. “Can I take him?” I asked. He had barely gotten out the words, “whenever you feel comfortable,” when I squeezed the trigger. I HIT HIM! I wanted to do a back flip. I had snuck on the monster ram and hit him on the first shot. The rest is kind of a blur. The next thing I remember, Sean was giving me high fives and congratulating me. My dad just kept saying, “Sis, you got a toad!” I was so overwhelmed that for a while I don’t believe they thought that I was excited. I think my pictures are proof enough of how I was truly feeling – exhausted and very proud!
After an arduous photo shoot, and a life sized caping of my sheep, Dad and Sean loaded me up with my sheep head. AND the cape, and sent me down the mountain. I kept thinking that if I could just get off the mountain I could start bragging about my sheep. I was overwhelmingly thankful that the walk out was downhill. My elation over the size of my sheep is the only thing that kept me going.
My ram ended up scoring 169 2/8ths, the biggest California Bighorn Sheep killed in Nevada for the 2005 hunting season. I am so grateful to my dad, Alan LaVoie, for all that he did. I will never know how to express my thanks to Sean Shea for all of his hard work. I would also like to thank Shawn Sliter for being my “spotter” on the first day of my hunt. I had an incredible adventure with my dad, and it was truly the hunt of a lifetime on the Black Rock Range.