Stay In The Word

I had no desire to speak to this hunter who had ruined my morning, so even though we were just a few feet apart I simply turned my back to him and began climbing a short distance to a sheep trail. When scouting the week before, this was the first sheep trail I had ever walked on. I knew that it wrapped around the face of this mountain and continued for several miles up the next valley. I also remembered that I had been sorry that I was on it for about an hour last week. 

To call it a 'trail' is something that only Dall sheep hunters understand. It was continuously narrower than my boot and crossed near vertical slopes several hundred yards beneath the razor ridgeline of the mountain. Initially, I felt like any misstep would mean serious injury or death. After about an hour I got comfortable. More than that, I understood the incredible gift of a sheep trail. To be able to walk horizontally across vertical slopes without falling or twisting your ankles was amazing.

The trail was up in the grey rock, and primarily crossed shale slides and rock outcroppings. I decided to drop my 70 pound pack on the trail (so I could find it later) and climb to the ridgeline (that's right- this was my first sheep hunt and I had lousy gear and brought everything but the kitchen sink). The whole Earth is a network of paths and trails. Even our interstates follow his historic routes. Speed and safety are obvious advantages, but the most important one is that you never get lost. 

Written on February 6, 2026