Ian knew of a hidden valley, and we climbed up some really steep hills, peeking over into the basin. There were half a dozen rams in there, feeding and resting. And one was really blonde, with long hair blowing in the breeze, absolutely gorgeous. So we set the rifle up on a good rest, and waited for him to come out of the long grass. And waited. I was starting to freeze up when he finally presented himself; my first shot missed, but I connected on the second, and down he went. Luckily the wind died down and the sun came out for pictures; he was a lovely ram, not the biggest one ever, but surely one of the blondest. And that suited me just fine!
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