Ram tough

What, Nancy Clough worry?

No chance.

Not even after 13 days on a hunting trip in the Challis area and the 48-year-old hadn't yet fired a shot at a coveted bighorn sheep.

But on the 14th day, shortly before this journey of a lifetime would end and she would return to her home in Dalton Gardens, Clough set her sights on the magnificent creature some 225 yards away, and squeezed the trigger.

One shot and the 4 1/2-year-old animal fell.

"That's what you practice for," Clough said.

Good thing. It was the only chance she would get.

In Idaho, the bighorn sheep is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity won only in a lottery draw, and this year, Clough's name came up, as her husband Jon's did in 2006.

"It's a special thing to get a permit in the first place," said Jim Hayden, Idaho Fish and Game officer in Coeur d'Alene. "It's a unique opportunity we have in Idaho most places don't have. It's not one that just anybody can do."

The thin, sturdy Clough said she'll always remember the hunt, starting with the preparation.

"Physically, you've got to be able to get to where these rams are," she said.

And where the bighorns are is "super steep," rugged, rocky country that's part of the area known as the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness.

She and her husband hired an outfitter to deliver them and their gear and supplies by horsepack well into the backcountry out of Challis. All told, it was a 5,000 foot elevation trek to where little roamed other than the rams.

They camped, with two friends, Kellan Newberry and Chuck Robinson, near an alpine lake, which was beautiful, but set down in a valley.

"To get anywhere was a 700-foot climb," she said.

For two weeks, they lived in a teepee at night while scouting during the day, waiting for their right moment. They spent hours sitting in the hills with spotting scopes, watching the rams, determining their patterns, deciding which one to go after.

In one picture of her trip, Clough, wearing camouflage clothing and packing her 6.5 Creedmoor rifle, is standing on a 1,000 foot cliff.

"We had to be careful on the approach. They all bed down where they can see for miles and they can smell and hear everything," Nancy Clough said.

On Sept. 24, she got her chance.

"We went down Camas Creek and climbed up," she said. "That ended up being the right combination."

The five-mile hike down and 1,200-foot climb put them undetected near the bighorns. It gave her the best opportunity for a one-shot kill.

"They don't move a lot. It was a matter of climbing up the hill, getting to where they were, sneaking through rocks and trying to be quiet," she said.

Clough put her crosshairs on the ram and fired. Her aim, as they say, was true, and the bullet struck the animal in the chest, and it crumpled to the ground.

Clough was elated but exhausted.

She called the expedition the highlight of her hunting career. The logistics, the difficulty, the focus required for success made it something that won't be matched again, Clough said.

"Sighting in on an animal was not a new experience for me. At the time I was extremely focused on shot placement. You are given a decision to make and it has to be right so the shot is swift and effective. All the practice of the prior months steady's your hand and calms your mind on the task of harvesting a great gift. The loss of the animal's life is a gift and a privilege you are given. Once I knew the sheep had fallen quickly I was very grateful and thanked God," she said.