LOOKING OUT over the rolling steppe surrounding the Khentii Mountains of northeast Mongolia, it’s easy to understand how its people once conquered the world. This is ideal horse country. Unspoiled land, covered with grass and forage, rolls smoothly from one horizon to the next. There’s nothing to cause a rider to check the headlong charge of his steed.
In the mountains above the steppe, which are not very tall or severe, lives one of the three subspecies of the argali sheep. The Hangay argali is the middle child: smaller than the Altai argali of westernmost Mongolia, larger than the Gobi argali that lives in the Gobi Desert that defines much of the country’s southern border with China. All are easy to recognize with their distinctive double-curling horns.
My hunting party had spotted a band of Hangay sheep the previous day, and we were trying to relocate them while waiting for Jason Vanderbrink, the president of Federal Premium Ammunition and one of my hunting partners, to arrive in camp. He had been delayed during the long trip from the United States to Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia’s capital.
My trip to Mongolia had some glitches too. I came directly from Africa, where I had been hunting, and a short layover in Ethiopia’s capital meant I couldn’t bring a rifle. There would be no way to clear customs between flights. To overcome this logistical snag, our outfitter had secured an ideal loaner for me: a Blaser R8 in .300 Win. Mag., topped with an excellent piece of European glass.
But, of course, trouble comes in threes, and because Jason was delayed himself, he couldn’t bring his rifle either. As one of the hosts of the hunt, Jason would take the Blaser that had been set aside for me.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about hunting internationally, it’s that you have to roll with the punches and not sweat the small stuff. Or even the big stuff. I assumed that when it was my turn to stalk one of these amazing sheep, we would have secured a rifle for me to shoot it with.
A NOMAD’S CAMP
Our camp consisted of a series of round structures called , which I mistakenly referred to as yurts before being corrected. Though they look similar, yurts are less sturdy. are designed to shelter families from the severe Mongolian winters. Except for the plastic tarp that covers the structure, the little buildings are constructed entirely of natural materials: hand-hewn wood slats, thick slabs of felt, braided horsehair,