"Snow Sheep of Russia" - that's the name of the award created by the Mountain Hunters Club. A prestigious award that I had only dreamed of! And now it's time to go to the mountains to collect it. Time is running out and I cannot put off my plans. I began to study the subject and drew up a preliminary plan for the realisation of my dream. On the first hunting trip in summer - autumn 2023 I decided to take three snow sheep: Yakutian, Okhotsk and Kamtchatkan. I already knew the main organisers of such hunts from published reports and hunters' stories. After communicating with them, I identified important details and the puzzle came together.
The optimal route, time and duration of the forthcoming expedition was determined - it would be in mid-August for three weeks! I had never been away for that long before. But the logistics of the planned expedition suggested that, given the long journeys across the vast expanses of our country, it would hardly be faster. I decided to take a chance. "You can't do everything," I said to myself. Fortunately, the circumstances were favourable. The expedition involved different weather and living conditions. Luggage weight restrictions forced me to check every detail of what I needed to take. I started preparing a year in advance: I had to review my hunting wardrobe, update my camping, gear, equipment and even weapons. The agony of choice is difficult and can last forever, but now it's time to go on the expedition. All the decisions have been made, everything is packed and the details have been agreed with the organisers.
The tickets were bought and I was finally on my way. After the formalities at the airport, we sat at a table waiting to board the plane. I was accompanied by cameraman Jeanne Skorniak, as I was planning to make a film about my upcoming hunting adventure for the Wild TV channel. Zhann and I had become friends during the previous expedition in the Caucasus and I was looking forward to travelling together again. As we boarded the plane, I exhaled with relief. All the packing and necessary procedures were behind us! "The trip will show if I have packed everything right," I thought, and the main thing was that everything or almost everything I wanted was in my luggage. Yay!
The first point of our expedition was Yakutia - a land of permafrost, gold and diamonds. There are many rivers rich in fish, mountains, forests where many animals and birds live under the protection of the Yakutian nature spirit Bai Bayanai. The flight to Yakutsk took nine hours, and then the plane landed on the runway. The stewardess warned that there would be an emergency stop to repair the runway. The plane slowed sharply, as if a red traffic light had suddenly come on. The seatbelt slammed into my stomach, the plane shook, the brakes screeched and the engines roared, switching to reverse thrust. Suddenly everything calmed down, the plane straightened up and rolled quietly into the parking area. The traditional applause for the pilots filled the cabin!
Ivan, a representative of Sonor Hunting, met us at the airport and told us that we would have to drive along the infamous Kolyma road to Magadan, about 650 kilometres, and also take two ferry crossings - across the Lena River and the Aldan River. "Romantic," I thought to myself. And we started our journey, looking at everything around us with interest. The journey took about eight hours, and here we are approaching the camp, which is located in the "Tomponsky" Ulus on the banks of the Kuranakh River. These lands belong to a nomadic family community of small northern peoples - the Evens, hereditary reindeer herders, the Pogadaev family, whose hunting grounds cover 632,000 hectares along the Sette-Daban Mountains in eastern Yakutia. Yakutian scale! The camp consisted of several large, comfortable tents heated by potbelly stoves, with a canteen and even a bathhouse. After settling in, we went out for a welcome dinner. Omul, muksun, whitefish, raw dried horse meat and venison shulum soup were exotic delicacies for us. At dinner we met our guides and discussed the plan for the upcoming hunt.
The weather was rainy and the forecast showed no improvement for the next two days. We decided to devote them to shooting and to visit the reindeer herders' camp at the invitation of Alexander Petrovich Pogadaev. His large and friendly family was situated in a picturesque spot on the high bank of the confluence of two mountain rivers. The magnificent view of the surrounding mountains suggested that the site had not been chosen in vain. Nearby, a herd of deer was resting in a large corral. A fawn approached me, rattling a hanging bell. It was not afraid of people at all, it was tame, it had been fed by people. The fawn's mother had been mauled by a wolf, which still terrorises the reindeer herd. It must be said that wolves are a real scourge for reindeer herders. But the Evens know how to overcome adversity and survive in the harsh conditions of the permafrost! They never lose heart!
The next day the reconnaissance team came back with nothing. As we had planned, in the meantime we shot the Carbine and went to see some beautiful places in the vicinity. And, of course, we visited a legendary and dangerous section of the Kolyma Highway, notorious among truckers. Wrecks of fallen cars in the gorge, as if on a military road, warning drivers: "Be careful!"
But first there was a surprise. We were taken to the site of an old camp nearby, where an authentic Even yurt stood. Smoke from a fire was rising above the yurt, and mysterious tambourine sounds were coming from inside. An elderly Even, dressed in national dress, moved around the fire and muttered something. "Is he a shaman?" I thought. We sat down near the fire and watched with interest. It was a sacrificial rite to the patron saint Ichchi and the spirit Bai Bayanai! The shaman struck a tambourine and called on the spirits to be kind and give us good luck in the hunt. In the ecstasy of the shamanic ritual, he made piercing guttural sounds to the beating of the tambourine. It was a sight that amazed even me, a heavy rock fan used to listening to other kinds of music. Then he surrounded us with the smoke of smouldering moss from the sacrificial fire in which the offerings were burnt. There was an incredible energy emanating from this performance. The rite was completed and the elderly Even who had performed it gave us cups of herbal decoction and offered us to drink it. The person who had organised this performance was Mikhail Pogodaev, the elder brother of a family of reindeer herders. Impressed by what we had seen, we returned to camp, where good news awaited us - the scouts reported that they had found two sheep.
The early morning of the next day was pleasant with excellent weather. We got ready in the evening so as not to waste time in the morning, had a quick breakfast and set off for the mountains.The ascent was not difficult, 1600 metres above sea level on a mountain trail, but it was the first one for me this year, so I needed to warm up, and my heel, injured by a shell in the river on a fishing trip before I left for the expedition, did not allow me to put full weight on it. Well, what can you do, the mountains are always a challenge. We climbed slowly. And here we were at the top of the mountain, having climbed 400 metres. A short break and communication with the scouts. They told us where to go next. Even Ivan, who accompanied us, said that we would go on in three: he, me and the cameraman. The whole group stayed at the campsite to observe and control the mountains around us. Chubuku lay down somewhere nearby for a day's rest. We moved cautiously, in full alertness, along the top of the mountain, watching the adjacent slopes. But there were no sheep to be seen. The sun was already up and burning. In the shade the air warmed up to +22°C. The dry moss crunched under our feet like snow on a frosty day. Suddenly Ivan made a sign: "Attention!" We stopped and watched him intently. "Get down," he gestured. Ivan crawled up to us and told us he could see Chubuku. It was down the slope, resting on a day's rookery.
Carefully, trying not to make any noise, we crawl to the edge of the mountain. Ivan shows me the direction to look. I look through the binoculars, trying to find the sheep. I see it! Chubuku is resting on a large flat rock, covered on both sides by a stenak. Distance 325 metres, slope 35 degrees. I had to get into position to see the sheep in the scope. I crawled down, put the carbine in position and held it. I didn't want to slide down into the gorge to visit the sheep. My head is down and my feet are up the slope. I try to put my bipods down and make myself as comfortable as possible in this position. The sheep lies still and gives me a chance to get comfortable. And there it is in sight. Excitement is at the limit, I try to calm my breathing, the moment of truth - I shoot. A characteristic slap is clearly audible through the muffled "jar" sound of the shot. Chubuku jerked and lay still, only the twitching of his hind leg indicating that the bullet had hit the spot. "Got it! Don't shoot again,' Ivan said to me. I can't believe it, is the Yakut Snow Sheep really taken? Yay!
But what is it? Another Chubuku quietly emerges from a nearby growing stenak. He was resting nearby and we hadn't seen it. He slowly approaches the fallen sheep, stands beside it and looks at it as if asking: "Why are you lying down?" After he had stood there for a while, as relaxed as he had appeared, he hid himself in the bushes. We watched in amazement at this scene which, to be honest, touched me. I had never seen anything like it! But come on, what happens on the hunt! Ivan congratulates me on a successful shot and the sheep taken. I try to get up and realise that I can't get up on my own from the upside-down position. It's a laugh and a sin. I get out of the gorge with the help of my friends who pull me by my legs. We took an unforgettable photo with the trophy! It turned out to be a nine-year-old snow sheep with not the biggest, but beautiful horns.
I am satisfied, for hunting in the mountains with an injured leg - this is a great result! A memorable photo with the guys from Sonor Hunting who organised this hunt! Bai Bianai heard the shaman and was generous to us! Back at camp we had a celebratory dinner of "blood". The Evens offered us raw liver, Сhubuku and sheep's eye. The raw liver turned out to be delicious. In return, I made carpaccio from raw sheep's loin, which the boys ate with gusto, making me very happy. The dinner had been a great success! It was time to say goodbye and head off to the Khabarovsk Territory in search of the Okhotsk Snow Sheep, but that's another story! See you again, friends!
