Sheep and Goats

Thirty-two feral sheep worked away into the junipers. A black ram with a full curl of horn stepped out from behind a tree. Instead of coming up our canyon, the sheep fed through the sage and bitterbrush and over the next ridge. “That black one is a good one,” Todd whispered. “There’s a buckskin-colored one…

He climbed by the light of the moon, careful to make little noise in these last minutes before dawn. But in the darkness, he took a wrong turn and found himself against a wall. “I’d think, ‘Find a little handhold and then find a place for my foot and then find another handhold and I’ll…

Matt McDowell pulled away from the spotting scope and turned. “We need to take a closer look at this goat.” Scott Tibbs, sore from nine miles in the saddle and dizzy in the high altitude, scrambled for his pack and rifle. Tibbs followed McDowell down through the scree, a descent of 400 vertical feet into…

Some days are mountaintop days. June 20, 2006 was one such for Bend resident AJ Conte. The 8th-grader had drawn one of two tags for a bighorn sheep in the Alvord-Buckskin No. 1 hunt at the southern tip of the Steens.

Hunting is more than meat in the pan, and more than a moment’s decision to squeeze the trigger. It’s the anticipation, the chase, and the time spent with a father or child on a crisp September morning when hope rises with the sun.

Sykes put down the phone and told his customers he had to go outside. He shut the door and stepped out into the alley. Here, with no one to see him, he did his happy dance. He’d made the phone call to the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife to check on the results of…

“Turn around. And look at your dad.” Steve whispered. 600 yards away, 28 year-old Mason Payer sat staring into the canyon trying to find the sheep. He was focused on the wrong spot. The sheep were there. If Mason would turn, he could see them.Mason had said, ‘no radios’ and Steve Payer agreed. But until…