2nd Prize
Orion II D'Italia Over/Under Shotguns (3 awarded)
Curt Bejes, Indiana
“Ever since high school, I have dreamed of hunting Dall sheep. I have been able to hunt in many places for many things in the United States, but Dall sheep has always been out of my range. My best friend from college, Kurt and I have shared many hunts together. However, my son Matt, now 14, has been my partner for the last couple of years. He reminds me of myself in high school, pouring over the outdoor magazines always ready to head for the field or water.
My dream hunt would be a trip for Matt and I to the Brooks Range for a Dall sheep hunt. We would start shooting in early spring and physical conditioning in early summer so we could be in top shape and excellent marksmen by August. We would start our equipment list early and have everything ready by August 1.
We would fly nonstop from Chicago to Anchorage a few days early so that I could show Matt the Kenai Peninsula where I worked for a couple of months back in 1990. We would then fly to Fairbanks and head out from there. Somewhere along here, we would meet up with our outfitter, who would explain the next 7-10 days. From somewhere north of Fairbanks we would fly out to base camp. The views from the Piper Super Cub would be unforgetable. Base camp would have the basic necessities but would be nothing fancy. The food would be nourishing but not gourmet. We would be there to hunt sheep, not wine and dine. Upon arrival we would check all of our gear and make final plans for the next few days.
Each morning we would wake up, dress, grab a quick breakfast, throw on a daypack and hike out. We would walk many miles up and down the slopes, stopping to glass for sheep. A few days would be sunshine and clear skies. The remaining days would be overcast with rain off and on. Our feet would get sore and sometimes damp, but our equipment would function flawlessly. We would see many sheep, some in small groups and a few singles. We would see a wolverine and two blonde grizzlies. Most of the sheep would be younger rams and ewes. We would have the chance to stalk several legal rams. Matt and I would both get ‘sheep fever’ at least once. What a feeling to have, heart pounding and body shaking. I hope I never lose the feeling totally.
Matt will take his sheep on the third day. The sun will be shining on our backs. The ram would just be a full curl and would be feeding with one smaller ram and a few ewes. We would see them about a half mile off and stalk behind a ridge to within 200 yards. Once at the ridgetop, we would set up. Matt would rest his Weatherby .30-06 on his daypack. He would take his time, breathe and focus. The shot would come, the ram would stumble and fall down in place. What a scene to remember. I would take pictures as Matt and our guide caped and butchered the beautiful ram. The hike back to base camp would seem like a dream.
We would hunt for another two days, staking a huge ram that kept eluding us. On the fifth day of our hunt, we would wake up to an intermittant drizzle. The temperature would be in the low fifties. We were sore and tired from the first five days, but nothing would keep me from continuing on. While glassing in the mid-morning we would spot a group of sheep far with two good rams. We decided to check them out. By noon we were in a position to use the spotting scope on them while we ate sandwiches. We planned our stalk. Within two hours we were within 350 yards but could not get closer. I had practiced to 400 yards regularly, but this was the real thing. I decided to take the shot if I could use a rest. I also used my daypack. I settled the crosshairs on the upper shouder of the larger ram after it moved away from the smaller one. I squeezed the trigger and we heard the thump of a solid. It began to walk off. I chambered another round, but within 30 yards it slowed and gently laid down. We walked over slowly, taking in every step and view.
That night at supper we relived the whole hunt for both of us. It really was a hunt of a lifetime. We flew out he next day and spent two days fishing, hiking and relaxing.
The last day, we said our goodbyes and thank-you’s, and flew from Fairbanks to Anchorage, then home. It would be the trip of a lifetme.”