Tom Akin

The long, steep hikes into the Cone Mountain area were administering a hurt on me.  No matter which way you approach that mountain, it’s about 1.5 miles in and about 0.5 mile up.  I had hunted the 7 of the previous 9 days.  The days were dwindling.  I wasn’t getting close to the sheep.  I was placing a lot of hope on the Sunday hunt, especially since I would be skipping the first 2 days of elk and deer season.  It was the last weekend day, and possibly last day period, I would hunt bighorn.  My enthusiasm for hunting bighorn was low since I had come across so many elk and deer within shooting range during bighorn season.

My plan all along was to hunt hard the first week on Cone Mountain, and then move to the more concentrated area of sheep (and hunters) along Interstate 70 if I was too discouraged.  I was at that point.  On Saturday, I went along Interstate 70 to do some glassing and to see if I could run into another sheep hunter.  Here I am on opening day of elk season driving along I-70 spotting sheep – my stomach churns.  There are only 6 other hunters in this sprawling unit.  It took me about 10 minutes to find another hunter glassing along the highway.  I asked “Hunting bighorn?”  The reply was yes.  “Any luck?”  He responded with mixed emotion tainted with disgust as the first 3 days he set up for rams, each hunt was negatively affected by the actions of another hunter.  I was relieved as he pointed out each gulch that the other hunters “owned”.  He showed me 3 bedded rams in his area that were all barely legal.  Graciously, he gave me the go ahead to go after “those” rams.  “Thanks for the offer, but no thank you since I really didn’t want to run into any other hunters.  Good luck, though.”

This gave me renewed hope.  The Sunday hunt would be Cone Mountain again.  My knowledge was increasing and I shouldn’t run into any other hunters.  Previously I walked Blue Creek up to where I had seen several rams bed.  While walking the creek that morning, I noticed a ram walking the rim of the cliffed out bowl near the top of Cone Mountain.  Ewes also frequented that route.  Given the superior eyesight of the bighorn, the approach from Berthoud Pass above treeline is long, risky and favors an evening hunt given the wind direction.  I had seen nothing on Friday night using this approach.  I wanted to approach from the opposite side of the mountain and pinch the sheep as they were walking along the cliff and entering treeline to bed.  The plan was to come up from the Mad Creek side and cut the sheep off as they approached their bedding area.

The alarm went off too soon on Sunday morning at 3:30 AM.  I rolled over and couldn’t decide whether to go elk hunting or bighorn hunting.  After 15 minutes of contemplation, I forced myself to try for bighorn since it would be a longtime before I had the opportunity again.  After driving the hour to the trailhead, I realized I was running late. 

I started to hike and quickly admitted that Cone Mountain was kicking my butt.  I struggled up the first half but then the snow started falling.  It was the first snow of the year.  A welcome event from my view point.  With another 1000 feet of vertical left, I had a second wind.  This lasted about 100 vertical feet.  More bad thoughts entered my mind about Cone Mountain.  I then stopped and took a couple photos of the sunrise.  The photos were primarily for my family and friends in New York, and to document how much “fun” I was having.  I soon realized that my friends and family do not have the opportunity to roll out of bed and decide if they want to hunt bighorn, elk or mule deer.  They don’t see snow when its partly sunny in August in the middle of the Rocky Mountains.  A couple of nights prior, my brother Glen had listened to my quibbling and replied “Tom, get the ram.”  I knew there were rams on the mountain, so it was time to find them. 

I reached treeline shortly after daybreak to glass across the southeast side of Cone Mountain.  I saw nothing.  I hurriedly scampered along treeline to get to the southwest side where the rim of the bowl is located.  The wind was directly in my face, the sun was at my back, and the snow flurries were falling.  The hunt was developing as a promising situation.  All that was needed was one ram in front of me.  As I crossed the ridge to peer at the bowl’s edge,  four white rumps were glistening in the sunlight about 150 hundred yards away!  Unfortunately, they were all ewes that had made it to the edge of treeline where I had wanted to set up. 

Since I had seen rams close to a herd of ewes on previous encounters, I decided to cautiously approach the ewes.  As I approached, a few more ewes revealed their presence.  At 70 yards away, I sat down to contemplate my next move.  One of the ewes had spotted me.  She, and another ewe, bedded down facing directly toward me.  After 25 minutes of contemplation, I decided I would have some fun by seeing how close I could get to the ewes.  As I slowly tried to put my feet under myself, one of the ewes jumped from her bed and glared in my direction.  I guess they can see well, given it took me about a minute to change my body position!  As she glared at me, another animal approached out of the trees.  The full curl ram tilted his head from behind the tree and glared in my direction for a few seconds.  WOW, that changes my plan!

The herd settled back down and the ram retreated to the trees.  After it was apparent the herd would not resume grazing, I had to formulate a plan quick because I was shaking almost uncontrollably from cold and lack of opportunity to eat.  With the wind blowing constantly with 30 mile per hour gusts, I decided I would try to slip under the ewes and hopefully run into a ram.  CRASH!  The sound of two rams butting heads!  The ewes all jumped out their beds and were joined by 5 more ewes.  Now, 12 ewes rebedded with 3 directly facing me.  It might have quite a bit easier if there were only a couple of rams together, but this is a story about an almost perfect hunt.  As I tried to make a few steps into thicker cover, the herd of ewes bounced to their feet. 

I was still 70 yards away but the wind was gusting and I had more cover.  I decided to quickly move under the herd and try to get ahead of them, while keeping my eyes peeled for a ram in front or below me.  As I slipped under the herd by rock hopping, leaping deadfall, and jumping on to mossy areas, the herd continued moving down along treeline.  I managed to get within 25 yards of the herd when they huddled up.  Four ewes and a mature ram were stacked up broadside looking to where I had just come from.  Another ram was looking in the same direction just a few yards in front of the others.  I focused on the ram whose curl from the side angle reached through his snout.  Unfortunately, I could only see from the neck up and the cover was thick in all directions.  As I tried to take 2 steps to higher ground while drawing the bow, the herd jumped above treeline without exposing a shot.  I bounded out of the trees as the herd of 12 ewes and 4 mature rams trotted away.  The trailing ram from the herd stopped broadside at about 55 yards and looked toward me.  Only being comfortable out to 45 yards, I let the ram and herd trot over Cone Mountain.  I gave a short chase but soon realized that I wasn’t going to be able to catch up to bighorn either.

Another Almost Perfect Bowhunt!

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