Nebraska Big Horn Sheep: A Full-Curl For One Lucky Girl

The last, crisp light had dropped behind the snow-crested buttes of the December horizon as Kiersten Black lay prone. She settled a flushed cheek on the stock of her .308. The vast rocky terrain of the Nebraska Pine Ridge region dwarfed Kiersten and the whispering onlookers. Silence fell as Kiersten lifted her head off the rifle, looked at her dad, Trevor, and with an assertive preconsciousness beyond her 15 years, calmly asked, “Now what exactly do I need to do? I don’t want to mess this up.”

Kiersten was living out the dream most big-game hunters will never experience, having won the lottery for a once-in-a-lifetime resident Nebraska bighorn sheep tag. Months prior, while applying for the regular fall lineup, Trevor called her into his office and, before checking that $29 lottery box, asked if she was ready for this type of hunt. He explained the work and responsibility. Kiersten was in, not truly knowing what adventures that quick, seemingly simple, decision would bring.

Where the Deer and the Antelope Play

It’s a surprise to most that more than a century ago, bighorn sheep, usually known to reside among steep, rugged mountain terrain, also flourished on the plains and bluffs of western Nebraska. Due to habitat change, disease spread by domestic livestock, and unregulated hunting, the native population went extinct around 1900.

Beginning in the early 1980s, restoration efforts took place to reintroduce Rocky Mountain bighorns to the Great Plains state by adding ten sheep from South Dakota’s Custer State Park to Pine Ridge near historic Fort Robinson, placing them within a 500-acre enclosure. Over the next several years, additional sheep were added from Colorado and Montana in efforts to grow multiple free-range herds across western Nebraska.

In 2012, a large, concerted transplant effort took place between volunteers and fish and wildlife staff from both Canada and Nebraska. Known as home to some of the largest, full-curl rams found in North America today, the Cadomin region of Alberta is a mecca for the flourishing species. With fears of disease due to overpopulation in an unhuntable mine site, a team captured 40 bighorn sheep, 35 ewes and five rams near Hinton, Alberta and drove two days south to Sowbelly Canyon in the Pine Ridge area near Harrison, Nebraska.

This international effort was the largest yet by the state, costing a hefty $80,000, all financed by hunters and bighorn funds. Since then, additional in-state efforts have attributed to two main subpopulations, the initial transplants in Pine Ridge, and another south in the Wildcat Hills near Gering, Nebraska. Even with close monitoring, the growth of the herds has suffered several setbacks due to disease and a significant increase of documented mountain lion kills.

Profit for Protection

To help finance bighorn sheep conservation in the state and herd management, a harvesting program began in 1998. Nebraska residents like Kiersten can apply for a chance at winning a single tag. In addition, another tag is available to purchase by anyone at certain conservation foundation auctions. All tags are dependent on ram availability as determined each year by the Nebraska Game and Parks Commission (NGPC).

Controversial to some who enjoy viewing the sheep in the wild and perceived as counterintuitive, the hunting opportunity actually grows the sheep management program with proceeds going toward multiple bighorn sheep conservation projects. At the 2023 Wild Sheep Foundation Convention, the Nebraska bighorn sheep permit sold for a record $370,000. Between auction profits and the more than $102,000 generated from the resident lottery fees, Nebraska has a cushion of funds to continue its sheep reintroduction efforts. In addition, trespass and kill fees charged by landowners to hunters add local funds to help manage and maintain the sheep’s native habitat.

Pregame

With nearly 3,600 applicants, drawing is more of a wish than reality. The call from Todd Nordeen, Big Game & Disease Research Manager for NGPC, was silenced as spam. It wasn’t until Trevor listened to the voicemail in mid-August that they discovered Kiersten had the winning tag. Trevor was clear early on, this would probably be the only bighorn sheep hunting opportunity anyone in his family will have, so they were going to make it a true hunt of their own. Working with Nordeen, the scouting began.

Nordeen gave the Blacks a list of landowners the sheep are known to frequent, but with such movement during the rut, this list was only partial. Trevor went back to his ‘Nebraska Nice’ roots and did some old-fashioned cold-calling and footwork. Native to Sidney, Nebraska, a small town of around 6,000 and home of the original Cabela’s retail store, the community is tightknit with a strong hold to its hunting roots. The Black family’s active involvement within the community between sports, memberships to local conservation groups and their tree-planting business, small-town tea was spilled and individuals and landowners began calling the Blacks noting sheep sightings.

Gaining permission where they could, the Blacks scoured the plains and bluffs of western Nebraska. Soon they had first-hand inventory of every single ram in the state, even rams the NGPC were not aware of due to private land access. Using their spotting scope photos, they analyzed each ram carefully, noting brooming, counting annuli, and critiquing the curl, giving each a ranking. One stood out. Appearing even larger than the one that was killed that year by the auction tag holder, this brute of a ram hadn’t been seen or known to be alive for eight months prior to the Blacks photo evidence. Dubbed Scarface from past years of sparring, Kiersten wanted the giant ram in her sights.

Game Day

A local to western Nebraska, and with the closest bighorn sheep herd just 30 minutes from my door, I often cruise the backroads to watch these majestic creatures scramble up steep rocky buttes with such ease. So, I was beyond ecstatic to read the text from Trevor inviting me to photograph Kiersten’s hunt.

Knowing rams move miles a day in the heat of the rut, I had blocked off an entire week for the hunt. Kiersten conveniently had a basketball game in Chadron on Friday before the hunt, near the area where Scarface roamed. Trevor and his son Reed would scout while Kiersten played. Having a free day, I traveled to where Kiersten’s number two ram roamed to see if I could get eyes on him in case Scarface fell off the radar again. While photographing a younger ram, some ewes and a single lamb with a ‘fro of youthful fuzz, a video came through via text. It was of Scarface and the words “Found him.” Not wanting to lose the ram, Trevor called Nordeen to see if he could join them in the morning, a day earlier than planned. I packed my truck and waited for the word. After Kiersten’s junior varsity team, the Sidney Red Raiders, beat Chadron that evening, the Blacks stayed nearby with anticipation to get back on the ram’s trail early in the morning.

Around 8:30 a.m. the call came. The ram was more than two miles from where they put him to bed. With my truck already loaded, I hit the gas. Only me and the sheriff deputy patrolling Hwy 385 will know how fast I was truly going. Weaving through Chadron State Park to the private property line, I got word they had lost sight of the ram. Knowing Scarface was in the area and not wanting to bump him, I waited. A windy morning turned into a windy afternoon and still no sign. I glassed the steep canyon area where he was last spotted as the Blacks, with family friend Tate Pieper, and Nordeen separated to cover more area.

While hiking atop the edge of a steep drop, my phone lit up. “He’s in the wheat by the cabin.” The run-down wooden homestead was only a half-mile as the crow flies, nestled at the edge of a cut wheat field that bordered the steep adjacent canyons. As Kiersten predicted earlier, Scarface was coming back for the evening, and I was in his path. Staying low out of sight, I quickly ran back to the truck perched at the edge of the canyon. As I reached the truck I saw the bighorns, moving quickly, in line with my path.

Ready For Her Moment

Even at her young age, Kiersten is no big-game novice. Armed with the same Remington 700 she used to kill a monster Colorado muley earlier in the fall and a handful of her own reloaded cartridges, she had Scarface in her sights several times, but with no clear nor ethical shot as he was on the trail of a hot, old ewe, well-known to the locals. The only breedable ewe traveling along with two smaller rams, she was the draw for both Scarface and the Blacks. There was a reason she had survived in cougar country an estimated ten years. She had eagle eyes, spotting me near the trucks, and started trotting faster, skirting west, Scarface in pursuit.

The sheep moved down the deepest canyon area, now dark with the sun long set and the hunt timer counting down. Kiersten lay prone on a steep cliff, looking downward into the breaks. There was no sight of the herd. Trevor called the hunt off for the day. As they were gathering their things, he spotted a ewe making her way back up the opposing cliff. “285 yards,” Trevor said. Kiersten readied herself again, anticipating the rutty ram to follow. Scarface appeared, sidehilling alone and near broadside. Kiersten knew what needed to be done. Without direction this time, her steady swiftness was a surprise to all those around, a whopp echoed through the shadowed canyons in the damp air. With the clean shot, Scarface dropped. Both cheering and crashing of falling rock could be herd as the ram rolled back down the steep canyon, settling at the bottom in a washout where he had just walked moments prior.

The hunting tribe admired Scarface in awe as they got their hands on his massive, ridged horns and realized how large he really was. In a steep ravine, we set him up for photos the best we could as Kiersten squinted between flashes while attempting to hold up the massive head and horns. Nesting Scarface in a collapsible gurney, taking turns in teams of six, the group carried him whole up the buttes. At the trucks, Logan Weyand, the NGPC Wildlife Biologist, took swab samples as Nordeen looked for signs of disease, all while giving credit to the Blacks for putting in the hard work.

Post-Game Party

Kiersten showed such imperturbable composure beyond her age for this once-in-a-lifetime experience, despite a hard-edged audience of adult males. As we got out of the trucks at the local taxidermist, Kiersten ran behind a nearby shed and vomited, a dump of adrenaline and excitement that had been suppressed in place of calm focus.

With the hide off, the skull showed Scarface lived up to his name. Beyond the deep forehead scar that penetrated into his skull, his jaw and teeth showed significant injury from his youthful heydays of sparring. A misaligned jaw allowed a few top teeth to grow into his lower jaw. This probably accounted for his aloof behavior in his later years, even during the rut, and the reason he made it to the ripe old age of ten and a half.

A group of locals and landowners who follow the sheep herds all gathered closely around to get eyes and hands on the ram they once admired on the hoof. Telling stories of Scarface, and laughing as they all agreed from firsthand sightings, the ewe he was after was a “real bitch.” These locals had a true investment in and love of these animals, knowing exactly what hill that ewe lambed on in the spring and within a couple days of when her lamb was killed by a mountain lion.

Officially scoring 190 7/8, easily making Boone and Crockett, Scarface is the largest bighorn taken by any Nebraska resident and the third largest taken in the state. It’s a huge achievement for Kiersten to top. But now she has her sights set on a Nebraska big-game slam, and she’s set up to do it with the hardest one already in the books.

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