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ISSUE 118

A Ram For Dad

It was day six of our Stone’s sheep hunt in the backcountry of northern British Columbia, and we were finally where we wanted to be. The first storm of the fall had hung heavy and dark in the valley, and had kept us on the floatplane dock for four full days. Now, we were determined that neither rain, fog, sleet, snow, nor plane delays could prevent us from accomplishing what we came to do.