On July 13, I left Minneapolis for an overnight in Edmonton...

and then on the 14th on to Norman Wells, NWT.  We were told by the outfitter’s representative to be ready to be flown into Stan’s base camp around 4 p.m.  I met three other hunters that were heading to the same camp and would be sharing the float plane ride with them.  One of my fellow hunters was Ralph Adams (#980, CA), who was going after his 18th sheep.
We got our gear on the plane and headed out for base camp, but the weather started to go bad and about 15 minutes from base camp the pilot said we needed to turn around and go back to Norman Wells.  He just did not feel right trying to fly through the pass with no visibility. Needless to say, it was a restless night waiting to get into camp.  Also at this time of year in the NWT, the sun never really sets; it stays light 24 hours.  We left the dock and headed to camp about 8:30 a.m. and arrived without any issues.  As soon as we arrived, we were warmly greeted and given some food and met our guides.  We were told to get our backpacks down to carrying weight and bring rain gear and be ready to go within the hour.
My guide was Stan’s youngest son, Glen Stevens.  Boy!  I just hoped I could slow down this 21-year-old enough to keep up with him.  Also in the NWT they use pack dogs, which was new for me on a big game hunt.  We were actually going to be bringing two dogs, as Glen was training a new dog he just picked up. 
About 10 a.m., we were loaded onto the float plane with my guide and two dogs for about a 15-minute ride into the mountains where we would be dropped off.  I was surprised to see the large mud puddle we were landing on, but Stan had done this one several times before.  We got down and got unloaded, Stan asked us to check our satellite phone and make sure it worked (it did), plus I had an extra battery along also.  We were told to head down the valley and towards another lake, here we would be picked up in five days or sooner if need be.  We put on our packs and started heading out down the valley.  It was warm and sunny.  It must have been in the 70s and bright sun.  On the way we would stop and glass up the canyons to see if we could see any sheep.
We would have to wait at least 12 hours before we could hunt if we spotted any sheep; that is the law in the NWT, a 12-hour wait after flying.  We got down the valley a few miles and stopped for some cold water in the river and just took a little break.  We decided to glass for a while, and Glen spotted two rams way up in the rocks, but they might as well have been on the moon, they were so high up.  It is amazing how they not only can walk across the rocks but how they can hide in them also.  In another valley, we spotted some smaller rams that were feeding and decided to lie down.  We glassed for some time and noticed the two big rams get up from the rocks high above the canyon. They started moving west, the same direction we were going.  We started heading back down the riverbed and stopping every so often to check on the two rams, but after one too many turns, we lost them.  Glen said we would make camp a few more miles down the river, so we kept on hiking.  We came to a spot that looked good; it was a short hike up out of the riverbed so we could get a better look into the valleys above.  We got up to a good spot and set up the tent and fed the dogs.  It felt great to stop for dinner and a rest; we had gone about five or six miles.  Glen said we needed some water for cooking and was going down over the hill about 200 yards from our camp and would be back shortly.
I got my boots off and cooled my feet and just took in the great scenery around us; it was so beautiful and quiet.  I saw several caribou come very close to our campsite, and they actually went between Glen and our site.  I think he spooked them when he came up over the hill with the water.  He said, “I saw two smaller rams up this valley.  I don’t think they saw me, and they should still be there in the morning.”  After a great Mountain House meal of chicken and noodles we went to bed for the night.
We awoke about 7 a.m. and had a breakfast of hot chocolate and granola bars.  It was about 8 a.m. when we loaded our packs to head up the valley and see what was up there.  We got about a half mile and we saw four rams, and one looked very good to me. We stopped in the river valley to look them over better and Glen was looking through the spotting scope and said they needed a closer inspection.  Wow!  First morning and we may be on a stalk; this was getting exciting now.  We went farther up the valley and now were within 600 yards of the rams.  They were bedded in some grass.  We looked them over and Glen said they looked very good; we needed to move in closer.  We kept climbing and were soon only 157 yards away.  Glen said, “Get set up on the rock just ahead, and I will confirm the age.”  There are many older rams in Stan’s area so they try to harvest 9-year-old or older rams.  Glen confirmed that the ram was a full curl and at least nine, so as soon as I was ready I could shoot.  The only problem was that in the line of fire was a boulder that I did not think I could clear.  We decided to move back down in the river and get a little closer; they did not even know we were there.  Within a few minutes we were 110 yards away, and I was set up with a clear shot as soon as the ram cleared a bush.  Glen looked them over just to confirm it was still the same ram.  I had him in my sight and told Glen I was on him, just say the word I can kill him from here.
He said he just needed to confirm the age.  I said he is more than big enough and was in a perfect spot for a shot.  After what seemed like forever he said, “TAKE HIM!”  Boom!  First shot, he said I missed, and I put another round in the ram and a direct hit.  He was still standing there so I put another one in to make sure.  All three shots did hit the mark; the first shot hit just below the heart. It took about 15 minutes to get up to him; it was steeper than it looked.  After plenty of pictures, Glen started the caping and boning the meat.  This was going to be a life size mount, I told him. He estimated the ram at 13 1/2” and about 37” long.  I couldn’t care less; I was happy no matter how big he was.  After we got back to the main camp we measured my ram at 40” each side and 14” bases, 165 6/8 green score. Better than I could have hoped for!  I shot a 40” ram from spike camp; I bet that does not happen too often. 
I cannot say enough about Mackenzie Mtn. Outfitters and its operation, especially Glen, even though I spent only three days hunting with him.  He is very knowledgeable of the area and the game.  He has been guiding on his own for the last three years and before that was a packer for the other guides.  I am very grateful for the opportunity that I had to pursue my dream of harvesting a ram!
Roger Faulkingham (MN)