Journal Excerpt, 15Jul18- "I'd spotted the herd grazing atypically low as I approached the south ridge of Williwaw Mountain. My approach sent them scrambling almost a thousand feet up a talus field onto a hanging grass ledge. Fearing I might not make my summit objective before the weather turned, I'd left them behind, believing I wouldn't see them again. I was wrong. Almost two hours later, after a rainy ascent of the south face, I found myself passing the same herd in the same spot. Fatigued as I was, my intrigue was overwhelming. I'd learned from previous encounters with Dall Sheep that if you could convince them you were there to graze as well, you stood a shot at getting fairly close. I dropped my pack before ascending the loose rock both for balance and to decrease my perceived size. If I noisily disturbed the rock on the way up, I'd lose my chance. I zigzagged an unassuming path toward them, stopping every few steps to "graze" on the vegetation. It was working. A few of them were even advancing toward me, slowly descending again. As I was photographing the elder ewe, a lamb came over a ridge directly to my left, startled at my presence. After looking up for guidance and seeing the rest were at ease, she walked across my path, maybe fifteen feet away, and dropped her head to graze. I shot dozens of stills and several videos, then sat down on a boulder. I looked at the sheep above me, then at the mountain I'd just ascended. The winds picked up, carrying the scent of the profusion of wildflowers which covered every surface not laden with stone. I felt free. Not free in the sense most people refer to, but free like they were. I'd paid my dues, and entered Eden."