By Mike Ambrose
There are times in our lives when the most tragic circumstances lead to unexpected gifts. My wife, Suzanne, was fighting a battle with Stage 4 lung cancer when she told me she had “made arrangements” for me to try and achieve the North America Grand Slam of Sheep. This was something I had been thinking about since turning seventy years of age the previous year. Suzanne passed away on Nov. 8th 2018. Within a couple of months of her passing, I faced my own health battle. My breathing became labored and the subsequent diagnosis of acute respiratory failure required that I be placed on supplemental oxygen around the clock. Testing and procedures would follow to determine the cause of my condition.
In January of 2019, I embarked on a journey to Sonora, Mexico on the first of my sheep hunts. Suzanne had arranged the trip with Rob Brown of Timber King Outfitting. My friend, Phil Byrd of Arctic North Guides in Alaska, accompanied me on this trip. Phil graciously offered to be my “sheep sherpa”, toting my gun and gear. Because of the sharp eyes of guides Elijah and Johnny, a Desert bighorn sheep ram was spotted the morning of day one. A long, slow climb ensued. When we were within 640 yards of the animal, it was my turn to put my SEAL Team Shooting skills into practice. When the ram stood up, I fired my first shot, resulting in a clean miss. The second shot sent the ram to the ground, where he landed in a tangle of cactus, just below where he had stood only seconds before. Due to my respiratory condition, I was unable to climb and retrieve this ram. Thankfully, the other members of my hunting party were able to retrieve the beautiful ram. At that moment, I was no longer a member of the “less than one club”.
In March of 2019, I was diagnosed with terminal pulmonary fibrosis. The word ‘terminal’ echoed in my ears, carrying a sense of irrevocable finality. It reminded me of the ultimate point that it signifies, where there is no turning back. After numerous daunting tests and procedures, my only option was a double-lung transplant. I was approved for the procedure in July of that year but told them to hold off placing me on the transplant roster. I had a bucket list hunt that must be completed—a July 18th trip to Asia with Shikar Safaris for the Mongolian Slam of Argali. Thirty days later, with the assistance of an oxygen regenerator and the patience of three different teams, the goal was accomplished and I returned home. Upon my return, I was placed on the transplant candidate list and began a rigid schedule of monitoring and testing while I awaited a call that might never come.
During the Mongolian trip I met Pat Garrett of Garrett Bros. Outfitting and Consultants. When I returned home from Mongolia, I asked Pat to book me for an attempt at the North America Grand Slam. The only caveat was that I did not have time to wait for a tag to be drawn. I previously sold what remained of the hunts Suzanne had arranged for me as I was unable to physically complete them. I needed Pat to find hunts for which I had a better chance of execution.
In November, I received my first call from Pat. He had a Nelson Desert bighorn sheep tag available on private land in Texas. I had to be there November 30th and they would throw in an Aoudad sheep hunt as a bonus. November 30th found us in camp on the Stovall Ranch near Alpine, Texas. We hunted with Zack Knowles of Xtreme Outfitting. In the early afternoon of day one, we spotted a ram that had been seen and scouted the week before during another hunt. Pat carried my oxygen as I followed closely behind, tethered by oxygen tubing. The distance to the ram was eventually closed, ending with a 540-yard shot. My mission for the Grand Slam of North American sheep was officially underway.
In 2019, I met a wonderful, caring woman, Keiy. In January of 2020 we were married and so the “rest of the story” begins. On March 16, 2020, I received a phone call. “How soon can you be at the Hospital Mr. Ambrose?” the voice on the other end of the line asked. Miraculously, my turn at the top of the transplant list had arrived. “One hour,” I replied. Keiy and I stared at each other in stunned silence. We hugged each other, shell shocked and thankful that once again the good Lord was providing.
This is where the determination and incredible care of Keiy and my doctors took over. After several months, I was beginning to feel normal enough that my thoughts returned to “The Mission”. The recovery was brutal and I was not a good patient. I owe my survival to Keiy’s loving patience, determination, strength and motivational skills. Almost a year later, Pat called again to ask how I was feeling. He informed me that if we were going to complete my mission that we would need to bid on governor’s and conservation tags as there were almost no sheep hunts available anywhere. The COVID pandemic had caused a backlog of hunts that would last for years. With Pat’s experience, he took charge of the bidding process and we managed to win the Utah Governor’s tag for a 2021 California Bighorn sheep on Newfoundland Mountain. A couple of weeks later we won a 2022 Stone sheep conservation tag donated by Profit Muskwa and auctioned by the Iowa chapter of the Foundation of North American Wild Sheep (FNAWS). Motivation can be found in the strangest places. These developments inspired me to do whatever was necessary to get into condition to be able to follow through and make these hunts come to fruition.
Not one to remain idle very long, I was eager to book a Dall sheep hunt. With the California Bighorn sheep hunt not scheduled until October, I had time on my hands. COVID’s effect on Canada had also led to a backlog which was still preventing Pat from locating a Dall sheep hunt. I decided on an August 2021 trip with Hunt Alaska. Unfortunately, we were unable to locate a legal ram during my ten days of hunting.
The time had finally arrived to chase a California Bighorn. We arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah on October 28 of 2021. In the early afternoon of the next day, we settled into the Bronson Outfitting camp on Newfoundland Mountain. We ventured out to scout in search of rams, guided by Adam Bronson. The rut was in full swing and we found several rams on a hot ewe, two of which looked like shooters. We backed out quickly to avoid disturbance and detection before our planned return the next morning. Early the next day, we searched the previous afternoon’s scouted area. By 10 a.m. we had located the ewe and her pursuers and proceeded to head up the mountain with a good-looking ram situated down low as our target. That plan quickly changed as the ram headed for the high part of the mountain, chasing the ewe in heat. More than two miles later, I finally managed to reach a point where Pat and Adam had been waiting with my gun set up. After directions from my guides, the ram finally stepped into the open behind the ewe. A shot of 560 yards found what we would call the “Halloween Ram” put me half way to my mission goal.
My recovery from the transplant continued as did my workouts. Although I was very weak and slow during my Utah excursion, my condition was improving and I was looking forward to a horseback hunt in British Columbia that was scheduled for August 9th of 2022. I arrived in Fort Nelson and was waiting for Pat to arrive by car when I received a call from the transplant center. The results of the tests and procedures from the previous week had come back. I was informed that I needed to locate a doctor and have a prescription filled immediately for a steroid. There was no further explanation. After waiting most of the day in a local doctor’s office, I was told that he would be unable to fill a prescription written in the United States. He eventually agreed to write a prescription for me, considering the potential severity of my condition. Problem solved.
Pat finally arrived and we were whisked away to the Profit Muskwa headquarters. After greetings and lunch, we boarded a plane for base camp. Our guide, Gary van Hee, is one of the most experienced Stone sheep guides in the world. Remarkably, he was prepared for us and for my limitations. This was a horseback hunt and I am a sailor. There is no fooling a horse—they know your capabilities and your comfort level as a rider. After spending three, eight-hour days in the saddle during which we only saw a few young rams, and one day where Gary and Pat went alone to allow my hindquarters to scab over, it was decided that we would pack a spike camp the next day and operate from there for the next few days. Nearly four hours outside of spike camp, we revisited a bowl where we had seen three young rams on the first day. After a ninety-minute hike, we spotted two rams at one thousand yards. We closed the distance to six hundred yards, where Pat and Gary determined one ram to be at least nine to ten years old. I was using a borrowed gun and clothing and new boots on this hunt as Air Canada had lost all my gear and clothing. Pat knew a guy, who knew a guy, and I was graciously loaned a Kimber rifle in 280AI with a dial up scope. I had only put one round through the rifle at one hundred yards at this point. Gary wanted us to close the distance and divine intervention once again allowed us to reach a distance of 350 yards from the ram. The rifle proved to be everything the owner said it was and a one shot kill ensued. Experiences like this restore your faith in humanity. Three quarters of my slam mission was done and dusted. I was now heading directly to Dall sheep hunt attempt number two, in the Wrangle Mountains of Alaska. Unfortunately, we were weathered in for fifty percent of the ten-day hunt and again saw no legal rams.
My diagnosis upon return was that my immune system was doing its best to reject my lungs. Several procedures were attempted to reverse or halt the decline of my condition over the next few months, including an April 2023 hospitalization to reset my immune system. At this point I had lost about thirty to forty percent of the lung capacity I had regained a year after the transplant.
Pat called with good news. He had located a Dall hunt in the Yukon. But it was not a helicopter to the top of the mountain and hunt down the mountain hunt we were hoping for. Instead, this was a horseback hunt in the Ogilvie Mountains. Desperate to complete my mission, we booked the hunt and waited what was to come until August 17 of 2023. I headed to Edmonton in Alberta, Canada to meet Pat, and then on to Dawson City via Whitehorse. After arriving in Dawson City, we were quickly moved to “CAMP #1” by Russ Geisbrecht, owner of Tombstone Outfitters. We spent the night preparing our gear for horseback and hunting camp, before grabbing some grub and much needed rest.
Off early the next morning, a seven-hour ride got us to a very comfortable and bearproof cabin with wonderful scenery, situated alongside a beautiful drainage and stream. I remained in camp while guide Brandon, horse wrangler Jake, and Pat went to check for sheep in an area where a good ram had been spotted on a scouting mission a few days prior. Again we rose early and mounted the steeds for a long day in the saddle—and that it proved to be. Although sheep were spotted at distances of two to three miles, closing the gap did not produce any opportunities and we found ourselves eating a very late dinner back at camp that night. We headed to a new drainage the next morning, just after first light, and spotted a few rams. They were at a great distance, measured in miles not yards. After a few hours of closing the distance, we found the rams resting on the side of a mountain two thousand feet above us and 1,800 yards away. They had a clear view of any approaches we would attempt to make toward their position. We waited until the rams moved and when they did it was our turn to do the same.
Brandon and Jake did a brilliant job of navigating the horses near the top of the mountain, leaving me only a few hundred yards of a steep slope to conquer. This was a great effort for me and I had to stop many times to rest. My embarrassment was growing as the decisive moment could be rapidly approaching and my breathing was hard, heavy and labored. Topping the slope, Pat spotted six rams about two hundred yards away in a bowl. A side note—this year was Pat’s turn for Air Canada to lose all of his gear. My binoculars were no replacement for his lost spotting scope.
Pat quickly located Brandon and instructed him to move to our position. Pat felt I could not get my pack into position without the rams spotting my movement. My talent if I have one, is long range, sniper style shooting from a solid rest. This was becoming a rodeo quickly as Brandon sorted the rams, in an attempt to identify the largest of the group. The rams began to grow restless as they milled about, crisscrossing the landscape as they moved away from us. “I’m not good freehand,” I said to Pat, to which he replied “That’s what you have today. We need to take the am on Brandon’s call.” “Far left and high in back,” Brandon said. Spotting the ram, I tried to settle the crosshairs and was having no joy when Brandon quickly said, “No, No, far right.” “That’s a young ram,” Pat replied. “Behind him,” replied Brandon, as the ram moved into view. He was all horn.
The rams began to move as Pat did a brilliant job of keeping me on our intended target. “220,” Pat said, ranging the animal. I squeezed the trigger as I peered through an unsteady scope. “Missed,” Brandon replied. I knew this was the case as well as the rams began to run straight toward us. Pat kept me focused on my target but the hair trigger I prefer, for the benefit of long-range shooting, was my enemy here and I discharged before my intent. “Very high,” was the next report I heard from Brandon. As the rams closed the distance, I only had a single bullet remaining in the chamber. I think I “willed’ more than aimed and the next shot found its mark, sending the ram tumbling down the mountain slope.
So powerful was the emotion I felt at that moment. I still feel it today as I write this. It is beyond my ability to put the experience and the emotion into words. For those of you who have been where I was that day, you know of what I speak. For those that are yet to do so, I envy you for what is to come. “Mission” accomplished FNAWS, “Grand Slam Ram”.
AUTHOR: Michael Ambrose is a Vietnam Era Navy SEAL veteran. He spent 22 years as a commercial diver in the global arena, and the next twenty-four in executive management positions around the globe for subsea marine construction companies, eventually retiring in 2015. Michael was a rabbit and pheasant hunter as a boy in Illinois, and a duck and goose hunter since his discharge from the U.S. Navy and relocation to Louisiana, and eventually Texas. He made his first international big game hunt in New Zealand in 2005 and has amassed over 160 species of big game from around the world. He made his first mountain hunt in 2015 for a Marco Polo ram, and has now achieved several SCI Diamond Level awards, including the ones of which he is most proud, goats and sheep. Michael lives in Sugar Land, Texas with his beautiful wife Keiy, trying to decide what is next.
