There are some hunts you go on for the trophy, and some you go on just to see if you’ve still got what it takes. This trip was both. What started out as a buddy talking me into chasing Aoudad sheep along the Mexico border turned into one of the wildest, steepest, and most memorable hunts of my life, and it ended with a world-class 38-inch ram I’ll never forget.
“It Was a Mountain, Not a Hill”
Our group had already taken a few rams, ranging from 30 to 38 inches, and it was my turn to climb. One of my buddies pointed up and said, “Let’s go walk that mountain after a group of sheep.”
Let me tell you something... That wasn’t a hill. That was a mountain, and I told him I’d never walked up anything like that in my life. He took off ahead of me and said, “Take your time.” We made it about halfway before I turned around and saw… well, nobody. My man had already thrown in the towel.
At that point, I made it a personal goal. I was getting to the top, even if I had to crawl.
“If I Make It to the Top, I’m Shooting Something”
About 100 yards from the top, our West Texas buddy met me coming down. He said, “If you can make it to the ridge, we’ve got a couple nice rams we can get on.” I laughed and told him, “If I get to the top, I’m shootin’ something. Might be a jackrabbit or a yew, but this 300 is gonna bark.”
We make it to the edge of this gnarly rock face, sheer and steep like something out of a goat documentary. And I hear them. Sheep running below us, close (25 yards away) but we couldn’t see a thing because of how vertical the terrain was.
My buddy whispers, “To your left. That’s a giant ram. We need to shoot him.” I asked how far, and he didn’t even lift his binoculars. “Forty yards.”
He asked, “Can you shoot him freehand?”
I thought to myself, He don’t know this gun-slingin’ turkey hunter.
One Shot. One Boulder. One Bush.
The ram stepped out just enough to give me a 10-inch window. I held high shoulder and a little forward, and let the 200-grain fly.
Boom. The shot dropped him clean, exactly what we needed. He kicked once, hit a boulder, and slid all the way down to a single yucca bush… one foot away from a 500-yard vertical fall.
At that point, I saw my buddy (who guides these hunts all the time) looking more than a little frustrated. He said, “This is gonna be the hardest Aoudad I’ve ever had to get out.”
Respect Earned the Hard Way
I offered to go down and help, but he stopped me. “There’s not room for two where he’s at.” I got about halfway and my knees were knocking just watching him work his way down to the ram. He dressed the sheep from 10:30 AM to 2:45 PM—without moving his right foot. That’s how steep this rock face was.
Midway through, he guessed the ram was a 37. Turned out, he was a 38.
When we got back to camp, the guides looked at me like I didn’t know what I’d just done. Turns out, they’d only seen two rams over 37 inches in ten years, and never a 38.
It was a special moment. A special ram. But for me? The real win was just getting to the top of that mountain. The sheep was the gravy.
The Hunt I’ll Never Forget
I’ll tell you this... I love the great state of Texas. The land, the people, and the wildlife it holds. If you ever get the chance to head west and chase a free-range Aoudad, take it. You’ll walk away with sore legs, a full heart, and a deep respect for those mountain-dwelling sheep.
Because some hunts are about the shot.
This one?
It was about the climb.
~ Lyle