It is NOT high heels and fancy dresses for me, no it is my Asolos, my horses in the mountains, and finally the chance to put the hammer down on a ram that puts a smile on my face. I have been following Grtwht up and down mountains looking at sheep since we got together and dreaming of taking my own. After watching him put rams on the wall for the last 6 years while I took a break to raise the kids, it was finally my turn. We started talking to people, being really tired of going into areas that we knew well but had also become a spot that many others knew too. We decided to try somewhere completely new. A friend gave us a few hints and we headed in 3 days before opening day to spot out the country and hopefully find a ram. We covered some of the most beautiful country and climbed many mountains to spot and see what was just around the next rock face. By opening morning we had seen lots of lambs and ewes and a few small rams but nothing worth putting the spotting scope on. On opening morning we headed south of our camp, climbed into a few new valleys and by 2:30 pm we rode into a cut block. The weather was so hot that we figured we would sit and wait for it to start cooling down, as we had not seen any sheep moving. To our surprise we found 3 sheep crossing into the valley beside our camp, which was about 4 miles back, but because of the heat waves we couldn’t zoom in the spotting scope to see if they were rams or not. We decided to ride back and try to find them hoping that they were rams. We climbed into the valley where we thought they had gone but couldn't find anything, so we headed back to camp. About 100 yards from camp there was a log angled toward the path, I went to move my gelding, Homer over and as I did the log jammed between my foot and the top of the stirrup. My horse spooked and took off through the trees. I couldn't get my foot out but finally got Homer to stop. I stepped off to try to free my foot but the log moved and Homer spooked again this time dragging me. My leg wrapped around a tree and Homer slowed but continued to pull. I finally freed my foot and my horse stopped and stood there shaking. I wasn't sure who was more scared when it all stopped Homer, Grtwht or me. Grtwht looked at me and asked me if the hunt was over. I said no and we remounted and rode into camp. The next morning I suggested we spot from camp because the sheep had been heading north and I was hoping they had just bedded in the trees the night before. Grtwht suggested I stay and doctor my leg while he went to have a quick look at the basins behind our camp. About 45 minutes later he came running down to camp saying he had seen the group of rams from the previous day and that there was a legal ram and we had to move. We started tying up the horses and one jerked free and started running away. After about 10 minutes we had him caught and everyone tied up. We went back above camp to make sure they were still there and then headed up the valley. The first time we spotted them they were less than 600 yards away and so we started slowly climbing up along the opposite ridge to try and get a shot. Just as we got into range the rams went over the ridge and disappeared. We climbed higher and sat for a couple of hours, then decided to climb higher and picked out a spot so that if they fed back over we could get them and so that if they went over the next ridge we would see. After sitting there for about 4 hours we decided to go after them. We climbed up to the next ridge and spotted them feeding in a group of trees high up in the shale. Again, they were less than 600 yards and had unfortunately seen us too. We backed up and went around and tried to get a bit closer. We came down a rock ridge and peaked out. They were 420 yards, but had stayed there feeding. We backed out and rounded another rock face. This time we popped out they were 340 yards. I laid down found the ram in the scope. He was quartering towards me between a rock face and a tree. I slowly squeezed the trigger on Grtwht's 270wsm (after Homer spooked with my gun on him I didn't want to take the chance of it being off) and connected on my first ram. It took a couple more shots and he was down. I was so excited I could hardly speak. Once the adrenaline slowed we made our way over to where he went down and words cannot describe the feeling of picking up his horns for the first time. We caped him, quartered him up and started down the mountain back to camp. Laughing that we had brought the horses to do this work and they were at camp. Back at camp we unpacked, started a fire and ate some of the tenderloin seared in butter. I finally have a ram of my own to hang on the wall and the memories of the adventure that went with it.