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Big Rams, Hard Country, and the Women Who Earned Them

Big Rams, Hard Country, and the Women Who Earned Them

Four women. Four remarkable New Mexico bighorns. Four once-in-a-lifetime hunts that speak to courage, conservation, and the enduring power of wild sheep.

Submitted by Bryan Bartlett, New Mexico WSF
Edited by Matt Dwonch, WSF  Staff

It seems every year we see more women hunter-conservationists up on the mountain and out in the field across the United States and Canada. Most have brought family and friends along with them. It is no different in New Mexico, which has a rich history of tough and rugged frontier women in the outdoors. Women have always been a part of our hunting heritage. However, these days we have many more who are contributing to and making a difference in helping to preserve our outdoor wildlife and habitat for future generations.

New Mexico GMUs with big rams in the background

New Mexico bighorn sheep hunts occur in the outlined GMUs, with blue boundaries indicating Rocky Mountain bighorn hunt units (northeast) and orange boundaries indicating desert bighorn hunt units (southwest).

Map courtesy 2025 Range-wide Status of Bighorn and Thinhorn Sheep in North America
Background image iStockphoto.com/JenDeVos

In 2025 20 percent of the New Mexico public bighorn sheep hunters were women and they all harvested a sheep. Four of these folks took really big Rocky Mountain bighorns ranging from green scores of 186 to 200 inches. In every case, drawing a bighorn sheep tag has had a profound effect on their lives, as well as everyone else’s who were a part of their once-in-a-lifetime adventure. From the moment they realized they had drawn this most coveted tag, to the aftermath of harvesting a bighorn sheep, the experience was a non-stop roller-coaster ride.

We salute these women and all other women hunters everywhere. They are an integral part of our outdoor culture, and they play a key role in preserving the way of life we all cherish and enjoy. We also salute the Wild Sheep Foundation and its members for their steadfast support of the WSF Women Hunt Program.

Here are those four New Mexico women hunters with a few words on what their bighorn hunts meant to them. 

ANISA CARTER - Thor, Forklift, and Black Ram

Anisa Carter - New Mexico BighornWhat started as a casual thought for my boyfriend James Duran and I—“We’ll see if I draw anything the first time.”—turned into the opportunity of-a-lifetime. Early morning of April 16th, I was awakened by James. Still half-asleep, I listened as he told me I had successfully drawn a once-in-a-lifetime Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep tag. In that moment, the reality of what lay ahead set in; it felt unreal. When I finally realized I would be pursuing my first Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep, the magnitude of the opportunity truly set in. I knew this was more than a hunt. It was going to be an incredible experience. Knowing bighorn sheep are one of the most sought-after big game species in North America, and drawing a tag is something many hunters spend decades hoping for, to do it on my first try was both humbling and overwhelming.

Together, we began calling friends and family to share the news and tell them to prepare for the hunt ahead. Everyone immediately rallied behind the opportunity, understanding just special this tag truly was. The support I received from the people around me became one of the most meaningful parts of the entire journey.

As time went on we knew we had to find someone who knew the mountain range I would be hunting and its bighorn sheep better than anyone else. Through mutual friends and word of mouth it became clear that Raul Sisneros (@shedyeti42) was the individual we needed to contact. A local with a great understanding of the area, Raul brought years of experience, countless hours behind the glass, and an unmatched knowledge of the sheep that inhabit these mountains. His extensive photo documentation tracked individual rams and their movement patterns over time, and he had even given names to each of the mature rams—an indication of the level of detail and dedication he brought to the pursuit. As the excitement set in after talking to Raul and other friends who knew the potential of this hunt, James made a call to his close friend Remi Warren (@remiwarren) to share the news of my draw and the rare opportunity to potentially harvest a bighorn sheep in the 200-inch class. He also asked if Remi would be interested in filming the hunt. Remi quickly assembled a production team to document the experience, turning the hunt into something truly special. Through his efforts, Weatherby Rifles came on board to sponsor the hunt, providing a brand-new, never-before-seen Weatherby Mark V Live Wild Carbon chambered in 7mm Backcountry. Vortex Optics supplied both a Razor HD riflescope and a Razor HD spotting scope, while First Lite outfitted us with technical hunting apparel. Mystery Ranch provided backpacks, MagView Gear supplied essential optics accessories, and YETI contributed a full complement of camp gear that elevated our base camp and overall experience. Having confidence in my equipment allowed me to focus on the hunt itself rather than worrying about gear. Everything was top-tier, reliable, and purpose-built for my hunt.

Our first official glassing trip took place on May 3, 2025—a day that would ultimately define the entire hunt. As we drove deeper into the unit, the country opened up into massive, rugged canyons. At our very first stop, we spotted a group of rams. One immediately stood out.

Known as Thor, he was an old warrior—his face marked with scars from years of battle. He carried himself with the presence only age and dominance can earn. Seeing a true trophy-class ram within the first ten minutes of scouting was almost unreal. We spent time watching Thor and the rams with him, then decided to continue down the road to see what else the mountain might reveal.

Not far from Thor, we spotted another mature ram bedded on a hillside just above a yucca bush. Raul instantly recognized him as a ram he had known for years and referred to as “Black Ram.” Calm and unaware, he looked down toward us, completely oblivious of the role he was about to play in my life. We set up the spotting scopes and watched him for over an hour. His horns were heavy and full of character, but it was his unique, and what some might call “loopy shaped”, horns that made him unforgettable. In that moment, I knew without question this would be a ram I would possibly want to harvest.

On May 18, we returned for another scouting trip, hoping to turn up additional rams. After stopping at multiple glassing points with no luck, we made one final stop. There stood a group of ten mature rams below us. Black Ram was among them, along with another heavy-horned ram known as “Forklift.” Both were fully mature, true trophy-class animals. Watching them from under 100 yards allowed us to fully appreciate the character and individuality each ram carried. From that point forward, it was clear—Black Ram or Forklift would be my focus.

As the scouting continued, new rams appeared, but my attention never wavered. The concern, however, was timing. Another hunter was scheduled to hunt the unit ten days before my opener, and I knew there was a real chance one of those two rams could be taken.

August 1 marked the opening day for the New Mexico Auction sheep hunter. That morning would determine which ram I would pursue. Around 10 a.m., we reached a high vantage point and noticed a group of hunters setting up across the canyon. After speaking with one of their spotters, we learned the news—Forklift had been harvested. From that moment on, my focus narrowed to a single ram: Black Ram.

On August 3, we set up camp nearby and began our hunt in earnest. Late that evening, after a long day of glassing, James looked over his shoulder and said to Andy Salgado, “There’s a bunch of rams coming out of that drainage—there he is. Black Ram is there.” With about an hour of light remaining, we repositioned for a better look. Sure enough, Black Ram stood among seven other rams. We watched them until darkness settled in.

The morning of August 4 found us glassing the same area. The rams were feeding along a hillside, slowly moving toward another canyon. We repositioned by truck and relocated them, only to watch all eight rams suddenly pick up their heads and run full speed down the canyon, disappearing from sight. We scrambled to several vantage points over the next few hours but couldn’t relocate them. Eventually, we called Raul and explained what had happened. Calm as ever, he said, “I’ll be there in a few hours. I’ll find them.” Thirty minutes later, Raul arrived and delivered the news—they were bedded on a ridge. For the next five days, the rams barely moved.

Each morning, we confirmed their location until they bedded mid-day, then returned in the evenings to ensure they hadn’t traveled far. On August 7, we learned that Game and Fish would be conducting a helicopter survey of the sheep herd. By mid-morning, the helicopter was diving into the canyons, pushing air hard in an attempt to count sheep. We split into groups and covered multiple vantage points to keep track of Black Ram in case he broke away. Fortunately, the helicopter passed without disturbing the rams.

With confidence in the ram’s location, I decided it was time to fully prepare myself. I contacted my shooting coach, Joe Gurule, and we headed to the range. With disciplined practice behind my 7mm Backcountry rifle, I consistently connected on targets at 600 yards—and stretched confidently out to 1,000 yards.

The morning of August 10 arrived—opening day. We split into teams covering distances from 2,000 yards down to 600. My group moved into position just 182 yards from Black Ram as he grazed with seven other rams. I waited patiently. When the moment came, I made three solid shots on the ram. The sight of watching my harvest go down was nothing like I had ever experienced. I was immediately embraced with hugs and congratulations from everyone involved. I quickly walked down to where he laid and paid my respects for letting me take him. Holding his horns in my arms was such an enraptured feeling—there was truly nothing like the exhilaration of my victory. In the end I was sad to see him go, but so fortunate to keep this experience forever.

Growing up as a young girl with a deep interest in hunting and the outdoors despite not coming from a hunting family, I was drawn to a lifestyle I had yet to fully understand. Experiencing it firsthand and harvesting this remarkable animal gave me a profound appreciation for the dedication, discipline, and effort required to make a hunt successful. Surrounded by the right people, and with the guidance and support of James and his friends, I came to truly understand the responsibility and meaning behind this unforgettable experience. A special thank you to Andy Salgado of H&A; Outfitters, Derek Harris of South Peak Outfitters, and Charles Gonzales for being there from the first scouting trip all the way through the day Black Ram was harvested. Thank you to everyone else who played a role in making this hunt so special. 


Caitlyn Lack - Round Ram

Caitlyn Lack New Mexico BighornThis was a humbling experience that was much anticipated from the moment I drew the tag. Just the thought of being able to harvest one of the biggest Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep in the world was overwhelming! A busy life made the prep work difficult, but help from God, friends and family made this hunt a success. 

The hunt was short. We arrived a day before the hunt to find a ram we wanted to shoot. I had the privilege to meet the other hunter who drew the same tag. A beautiful person that I would say made this hunt even better to experience with.

That day, we found the ram we wanted, one with round horns and a beautiful cape. We watched him until sundown. After dinner we made the decision to go after the ram, the one they called “Round Ram”. He was full of mass and curved around to make him look like a beach ball. We didn’t name him, but we had the privilege to meet some remarkable guides and people who study and admire these rams. 

The hunt started the next morning and we decided to go to a spot where we could look down at Round Ram from where we saw him the night before. With the help of my father in-law Randy Lack, Scotty Lack (my husband), and Rick Ortega, we spotted him in no time. I prayed for an experience that was quiet, cool, calm, and collected. I wanted to be sure this was the ram I wanted as this was my only chance in my lifetime. 

We got set up with the tripod and camera and I was ready. With one good, 214-yard shot, he reared up, then fell over backwards and slid about ten yards before he stopped. He wasn’t in a spot where I could take another clear shot, but we thought he was done, so we waited. To our surprise, after two minutes and 56 seconds he gave his last effort and down the mountain he went. He tumbled and we cringed. 

Another 200 yards down Round Ram expired and wedged himself against a dead tree, the only thing stopping him from a much longer tumble. As we made our way down to him—it was steep—but not as gnarly as it could have been. He had chipped his left horn and landed in a terrible spot. We strapped him to the dead tree with our belts, but the tree was ready to go down with him, swaying and cracking with every move we made to dress him. Thankfully we got him caped and quartered and were happy to get him moved to higher ground to make the cleanup easier and to take better pictures. Many prayers and humbling thoughts later, we made it. A couple of trips back up the mountain and the experience was done—and one I will never forget!


Scot Jenkins and Family

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Samantha Valdez - One Shot

Samantha Valdez New Mexico bighornAt 6:15 a.m. I heard the blaring ring of my alarm. Sleepily I made my way to turn on lights and start waking up my three boys. A quick few minutes on Facebook and I saw the news about draw results being posted. Like downing an espresso shot, I was instantly wide-eyed, awake, and into the NMGAF website to check my results. As the page loaded and I saw the green highlighted tag, I couldn’t believe it. I had drawn a once-in-a-lifetime Rocky Mountain bighorn tag in the Pecos! Hands trembling from astonishment and excitement I immediately notified close family members and friends. The overwhelming amount of support I received was truly inspiring. Coming from Taos, NM, and planting roots in Mora, NM, these small northern New Mexico communities have a very strong foundation on being there for each other. 

Within the following months a hunting party of eight genuine people was established. Many hours and trips to the area for scouting was put in by all of these amazing people. This kind of hunt is one that deserves respect. There’s no driving up to campsites or utilizing any kind of UTV/ATV. This hunt requires dedication and true grit. You can hike it all or horseback it all, but these are the two options you have. I myself had been on horses in the past, but nothing to the extent of what this hunt requires. Rocky and thick mountain terrain, small trails, and lots of ground to cover to even get to campsites was just the beginning. A lone rider of the group headed up two nights prior to the hunt, and the rest of us headed up the day before opening morning. A hunting party of six with 12 horses and mules then started the way up to the camp area to meet the other group member with another two horses. 

The hunting party included Teresa Lujan, Isaac Romero (both owners of HCH Adventures LLC.) Brandon Fernandez, Josh Esquibel, Donevan Sanchez, TJ Valdez, and myself Samantha Valdez. A beautiful two-mile long horseback ride through the burn scars from the Calf Canyon/Hermits fire was one for the books. I myself had only ridden this trail once before the week prior, but it was every bit just as spectacular. Thanks to Brandon and his gracious wife, I was able to ride Rojo. Rojo was such a gentle and kind horse and was the perfect fit for this inexperienced rider. I can’t express enough how grateful I am to have had him provided for this hunt. 

Once at camp, Teresa and I worked on setting up the rest of the camp. The others all took off to scout for the evening. During this time, another group member came into camp with his two horses, Rudy Lovato. Some weather hit and we held out in the tents and then all reconvened once it passed— enjoying a great evening around the campfire laughing, throwing jokes, and creating everlasting memories. 

Opening morning came and everyone was on their A game. We all decided to split off in different areas to get eyes on whatever was out there. 
After a long time of glassing with little activity, TJ and I were about to head to the others when a call came through that a group was spotted. We rode to them and things went from 0-100 in seconds. Isaac informed us that Rudy had found a nice group of rams bedded down. After some ranging they were 550 yards away. We discussed a game plan and Isaac,TJ and I proceeded to a rocky ledge directly parallel to them. Teresa and Rudy stayed at the area where they were first seen. The other group was notified of the game plan and were making their way back to the area. From our position, the rams were 249 yards away and we made the call to wait them out. 

After almost an hour the bigger one we had our eyes on stood up. As I got into position all I could hear was my eldest son saying “don’t miss mom.” I had my sight right on the ram, I waited for him to adjust his head as I didn’t want to shoot through the horns, took my breath, squeezed the trigger, and let the bullet fly. I kept still, my body frozen in time as I saw him hunch up and heard impact. He took off to a small group of trees and bushes. We originally could only see three rams and three stood standing. It was a moment of confusion. We kept looking to see where my ram was then heard a joyous yell from Teresa. At that point I knew he was down, but we couldn’t see him. I was consumed with my feelings. 

The hike down to him then commenced. In the blink of an eye Isaac was already down the basin. Before I knew it the whole hunting party was at the ram, and as I got there with Teresa by my side, they all had covered my ram with their jackets and unveiled him like a present on Christmas morning. My jaw dropped. He was a monster. So many overwhelming emotions came over me. I killed that. I got it done, and all with one shot. I was beyond proud of myself. 

We all celebrated a beautiful victory together as the work to get him out of there began. Through the hard work and dedication of this hunting party my ram was hiked out. From the time of the shot to the time we got up the mountain it took a little over four hours. It was a hell hole but worth it. 

Horses were loaded and we made our way back to camp stopping for a much needed water break at a small spring on the way. 

At camp we celebrated and indulged in the meat harvested by a truly unbelievable group of people. Originally I thought of naming him Hell Hole since that’s what he came out of, but in the end, it was decided to name him The Norteños Ram. He was earned by all in that group who come from northern NM. Eight amazing men and women with a total of 16 horses and mules got it done the high country way. The Norteños Ram came in with a B&C green score of 186 4/8! 

In ending this once-in-a-lifetime story, I want to say thank you to every person who helped make this happen. They all volunteered their time, animals, supplies, effort, and grit purely out of friendship and loyalty. For that I am forever grateful. 


Zoe Havlena - Why me? Why not you?

Zoe Havlena New Mexico bighornThis story is about my sheep, one of the largest harvested by a woman—but it’s also about what this pinnacle of a trophy-of-a-lifetime, and hunting at its core, means for me. 

Early morning in late-April 2025. I was getting ready for work, leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a coffee in one hand (piñon, for those in the know) and pulling up the draw results for NMDGF on my phone in the other. Despite getting married less than seven months earlier, my weekdays are spent three hours away from my husband on account of my new job. A move which would also turn out to spell the luck that I was now checking, double checking, double-triple-quadruple checking, and then calling up my husband and half-shouting with a shaky voice, “I drew [a string of expletives] bighorn sheep!”

I’ll claim my ignorance here. I had no idea about the Jemez unit rams. I knew NM had made some great strides in bighorn conservation, but despite being an NWTF, RMEF, DU, and BHA member, I just never thought being a sheep person was in the cards. The reason I put this particular hunt as my “shoot for the moon” first choice was simple in my mind—the place I had just moved for my new job, fresh out of graduate school, is 30 minutes away from the unit (according to OnX, it’s 14 miles as the crow flies from where I sit typing this to where I would harvest my ram). We immediately group-texted our other hunting buddies, as is our tradition on draw day. One fired back quickly with a, “Isn’t that the hunt that someone bid 1.3 million on?” I felt like I was going to puke. 

Why me? As my guides on the hunt, the best of the best know everything there is to know about sheep guys with Frontier Outfitting, Raul Sisneros and Iseha Conklin, (NM B&C record #3 “Mr. Clean”), would later tell me as I was first laying my hands on “Bubba” ram on that almost turning crisp 1st of September, “Why not you?” 

But still, I’ve had months now to grapple with the disbelief and I’m still struggling to find an answer. I’ll tell this next part in the hopes of maybe finding some justification, because to some degree, I believe I owe everything—my education, my husband, my job, my sense of self—to six years prior when I put in for my first draw tags. 

I’ve always loved the outdoors. From younger days in Wisconsin with permanently-scraped knees from climbing trees and muddy hands from catching bullfrogs, to making the move when I was 18 to New Mexico for college and falling deeper in love with the mountains outside my door every day. It was then that I had the opportunity and felt compelled to do something more with the strong hiking skills and sense of adventure I’d honed over the years. I joined my local volunteer wilderness search and rescue (SAR) team, where I would serve, eventually as team president and certified Incident Commander, over the next decade of my life. I’ve had several friends over these years who are full-time professional first responders or military veterans, so I always feel awkward trying to put this part of the story to words. But I also recognize that in my early adulthood, I dealt with things many people (hopefully) never encounter in their entire lifetime. Towards the latter part of my time in SAR, I found myself facing an unavoidable truth: that I could no longer enjoy time spent outside, even in recreation, without having unpredictable moments that would shock a cold sweat all at once through my body, leaving me with a racing heart and an urgent feeling of needing to do something—even when there was nothing to be done. It’s that constant hypervigilance that comes from walking into the forest and expecting to find the worst. Whether it was one particularly bad mission, or just a culmination over the years, I had unintentionally conditioned myself to view the outdoors as a place of work, and of acute stress. 

I didn’t know what the outcome would be when I decided to start hunting. I just knew that I needed a change. Shortly after applying for my first hunts, I received an email from a colleague in my department inviting me to go turkey hunting with him. He’s the one I started swearing at before he could even get in a “good morni-” on that April morning as I was looking at the little green highlighted letters ‘BHS’ on my phone screen. He’ll also be the first to tell you that I’m the better hunter than him despite his decades more of experience, and he’s the one who ranged for me as I set the sights on my Browning .300 Win Mag just a little down and a little left of a hulking curl of horn glinting in that early September sunrise. Over the years in the field together chasing everything from Rio Grande turkey on the Rio Grande itself, to elk, to squirrel, to oryx—I’ve found my peace again in the mountains. I know I’ll never be able to fully quiet my always-turning mind, but I can redirect those thoughts now. I’ve learned that I can pick apart every shadow under a ponderosa pine or thicket of sagebrush and anticipate not dread, but the thrill of finding a target buck. Scanning in front of my feet as I move through the desert has me not trying to match boot patterns, but notice the two slight dimples of a javelina track or frenzied looping patterns of little quail feet in the sand. Even when it’s not hunting season, I look to the landscape and scan, not compulsively, but to take in the details of potential forage, routes of travel and bedding, places I might glass. Even on the hardest days when a stalk is blown, howling wind pricks tears at my eyes, or it’s six miles and 2,000 ft up back to the truck, I breathe it all in and savor time spent in these wild spaces. 

And when that dusky haze of dawn slowly lifted up the steep hillslope, past red jagged boulders thrust from a 1.23-million-year-old volcanic eruption, past the still charred stumps from the fire that scarred this landscape 14 years ago, and past a small group of sheep slowly rising from their beds onto the tawny broad back of a ram that was about to be mine—I tapped into that hard-earned confidence from my past as I pulled the trigger on a clean 200 yard shot that rang across the canyon. Perhaps I’ll find the words for more details of the sheep hunt itself, but when I was asked to give a write-up, this is what came to heart. I am so indebted to be part of this incredible story of conservation, and I want to share my gratitude to the hunting community, the Wild Sheep Foundation (I’m a proud member now), and the men and women who’ve dedicated themselves to ensure these opportunities are available and that sheep thrive on the mountain. I know I’m not the only one who’s felt that the course of their life has been changed by hunting, and what better physical testament is there than the grit and enduring majesty of a Rocky Mountain Bighorn ram. 


Article featured in the Summer 2026 issue of WILD SHEEP. Members receive four issue annually. Learn more here.