Ram Down | Jeff Fraser’s Once-in-a-Lifetime Arizona Sheep Hunt
An account of Jeff Fraser’s 2019 Arizona Desert Bighorn Sheep Hunt
“RAM DOWN, RAM DOWN!”
Those two words, as many of you know, carry the weight of adventure, patience and hard work; and they passed through my cold and anxious lips on the fifth day of Jeff Frasers Arizona Desert Bighorn Sheep hunt.
15D South is where we got it done!
But let's back up
In 2019 Jeff retired from corporate America and, with his accumulated 22 Bighorn Sheep points, decided it was time to set his lucky stars in motion and put in for the tag of a lifetime.
He set his sights on 15DS as this is where his great friend and hunting partner, Rick Compau, harvested a beautiful ram measuring 160 in 2014.
I remember getting the excited phone call from Jeff that spring morning when he realized that Arizona Game and Fish had charged his account — excited is an understatement — and the phrase “Hunt On” was yelled at least one hundred times.
He immediately began planning his hunt. Rick jumped in on research, I was honored to build a rifle for the task at hand, and Daniel Dupuis (The Water Heater LLC) stepped in to help and handle logistics as well as setup.
The chosen tool to get the job accomplished would be a Ruger American Predator chambered in 6.5 Creedmoor — which Jeff just happened to win in a raffle while attending a golf tournament for the National Wild Turkey Federation.
Once that rifle hit my shop workbench it was game on.
First I bedded the action into a beautiful Boyds Classic pepper laminated wood stock, topped it with Vortex Viper optics, and gave it a weatherproof custom Duracoat camouflage finish before starting load development.
A middle of the road charge of H4350 was all that was needed to tie this great package together with the venerable Hornady 143 ELD-X for sub MOA accuracy and the confidence to make the coveted harvest.
The deliciously brisk mornings of northern Arizona in December are glorious in themselves, but what a privilege to feel the excitement of a Desert Bighorn hunt in this vastly unforgiving, yet breathtaking landscape of flowering barrel cacti and cholla.
All of the months of preparation had come to rest on a patch of gravel by the side of a lonely road at the foot of the Black Mountains near Oatman, AZ.
Boasting a whopping 128 persons in its population, it seems that the patrons of the town are outnumbered 2 to 1 by the local herd of desert donkeys.
Camp was set, the fire was stoked, gear was checked as the sun found its way into bed that evening before opening day… or so I was told…
You see, I had taken a flight with my son to Michigan to see family for Thanksgiving and we were supposed to be back in time for the hunt.
As you can guess from the former statement, that didn't happen according to plan.
Weather moved in as we were trying to get out and the airline decided to throw a wrench into our well-laid hunting plans and cancel the flight.
No problem — we ran to the front ticket counter and booked the next flight to Las Vegas where we split a rental car with another Father/Son duo and drove back to the Valley of the Sun.
So opening day was Jeff and Rick, but Daniel and I were right behind them.
Dan made it there on the morning of the second day and I was only a couple hours later.
Hunt on!
We operated in two-man teams, thanks to Ron Colby of Gary Yamamoto Custom Baits in Page, AZ.
Ron let us use his Honda “Big Red” in addition to the Polaris Ranger that Rick supplied, making it possible to cover a great amount of area to locate some Rams.
The first day started slow and cold, but Jeff did spot one lonely ram that he judged as a class 3 — and that was all the hope we needed.
The second day of the season was really the first for Daniel and myself.
We geared up and went down the list: pack, water, tripod, gamebags, binos, dental floss and a needle... we were ready.
We took off hiking and glassed all afternoon but nothing spotted. When the sun started to set, we packed up and headed back for camp.
Jeff and Rick made it back about the same time as we did, and we learned that they glassed up a couple of class 4 rams and the hunting excitement grew.
There was a measurable amount of adrenaline on Day 3. Daniel and I would take up overwatch positions to get our eyes on the rams that Jeff and Rick located the day before and guide them in for a shot.
That eager anticipation soon turned to disappointment as somehow the rams slipped us and disappeared — as they do so well.
The heavens opened and blessed us with rain for the entire fourth day, so we took advantage of being invisible to the eyes and ears of our game.
Hiking quite a few miles didn’t turn up any rams, but Mule deer and Burros were out in full force, as was the storm later that afternoon — which allowed for some war room planning but left my tent inverted to add a little extra cold bonus for the morning of the fifth day.
This is how it worked along the gorgeous stretch of Route 66 winding through the untouched roughness of the old west mining town of Oatman.
Here was the plan
Daniel and I would hike in and take position half a mile away from where we expected the sheep to be and put our eyes on them.
Jeff and Rick would be hiking up the backside of the mountain and hopefully putting themselves in a good position for a shot.
The four of us broke camp at 5am to head to our predetermined destinations.
Daniel and I made it to our glassing spot just before sunrise, which I was looking very forward to as my clothes were quite damp from the night before...
It was the most glorious of mornings. Just above freezing, almost no wind, completely quiet and saturated from the day before.
As a giant orange sunbeam broke over the mountain behind us, there on the very top of the mountain through our high-powered binoculars — basking in the early morning tranquility — a beautiful Ram surveyed his craggy kingdom.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This was straight out of a movie!
He was there — a class 4 in all his glory, basking in the warm morning rays.
He was checking on his ewes and not motivated to do anything but stay right there in the perfect place — ultimate, steep, gnarly, sheep country.
Now our thoughts turn to Jeff and Rick… Where are they?
How long before we see them crest at the point we had named “lobster claw”?
Do they already have a visual?
It truly is amazing how many scenarios can be played out in one's mind while trying to be patient.
Finally, after a seeming eternity, Daniel spots Jeff making his way to a shooting position.
Now the heart starts pumping... this is all about to go down.
Beautiful ram. Perfect plan. Great hunter. And the most accurate tool for the job.
My eyes are glued to my Vortex Viper 15 powers and I feel like every second is an hour.
I remember mumbling under my breath to Dan:
“What is he waiting for?”
“Does he not see him there in the sun?”
I'm still completely fixated on the ram, and then it happens…
He takes a small step forward.
I see his body twitch.
A ringlet, much like that of a droplet hitting the water, spreads out in a circular impulse originating from his vitals.
Jeff got him!
A fraction of a second later, the thundering boom of the 6.5 hit my ears on our lofty perch.
Awesome. Incredible. Amazing.
I'm still searching for adjectives to describe the rush, the surge, the overwhelming sensation of witnessing the punching of this once-in-a-lifetime tag.
It worked perfectly.
Plan “A” was a great strategy, and after that 2.5 hour hike Jeff made an ultra-precise shot at 263 yards on a 165” Ram with his Carnimore Ruger 6.5 Creedmoor.
I don't know if Daniel or myself have ever been more excited on a hunt and we didn't even pull the trigger.
Putting our gear in our packs and making the hike to the top of the mountain seems almost surreal now.
The way up always takes forever — but it was a challenge and garnered much respect for the animals that make this unruly terrain their home.
We found that gorgeous ram before noon on the fifth day, and after thanking the universe and making the necessary traditional phone call to my Grandpa, we quartered and packed the Ram back down to that morning's launching point.
The campfire was tall and warm that evening with the drinks, smiles, and stories flowing along like a fortunate and contented river…
We had done it. We were successful hunters.
What an amazing experience from start to finish.
I love how seriously everyone took it — and for a once-in-a-lifetime hunt, it will surely be many memories for my lifetime.
Joel Broersma
Carnimore