hide deep within the wilderness north of Los Angeles is rumored to be a misplace herd of endangered bighorn sheep . Over Christmas , we captured what I believe to be the first video of them .
Before friends pulled him off end rowing and give him to me , Wiley was a pound puppy , so his date of giving birth is a petty indeterminate . The veterinary surgeon thinks it ’s around Christmas 2012 or New Year ’s 2013 . With mandate metre off over the holiday , I set about contrive his first birthday present . It would be his first time wearing a backpack and our first metre in the woods — just us two — overnight . Well , multiple night .
What ’s IndefinitelyWild ?

For the destination , I wanted a spot that was really outside , but destitute of snow . Someplace accessible from Los Angeles , but also really idle . I ’d been to the Sespe Wilderness a few times , but only as far as the much - overrated Willett Hot Springs . In that handful of misstep though , I ’d escort bears , mountain Lion and condors . Playing around in Google , I found mention of a herd of Bighorn Sheep ; re - insert to the area three decade ago , but seldom sight since . No icon of them seemed to subsist , at least on the Internet . Challenge accepted .
“ Even citizenry familiar with the Sespe backcountry are surprised to learn of the mountain sheep on the slope above the brook . Truly , their presence is something of a miracle , a testament to the rejuvenative good will of risky spot . Once lost , now establish , sheep in the Sespe are hope on the hoof . ” — Bradley John Monsma ,
The Sespe Wild

The story of these special sheep is a dramatic one . Like most of the American West , Sespe fall behind its last Rocky Mountain bighorn to disease conduct by domestic sheep in the other 1900s . Then , in 1985 , the California Department of Fish and Game attempted to re - introduce them . The population of sheep in the nearby San Gabriel Mountains stood at a healthy 700 , so the DFG set out to transplant 37 of them to the Sespe . Due to the furrowed terrain — the last dirt road through the area was washed aside in a flood that alsokilled six Boy Scoutsin 1969 — the sheep had to be fly in by eggbeater . But , as the armada cap the Topa Topa mountains that spring Sespe ’s southern border , they were assaulted by an unexpected windstorm . The sheep were jettison across a across-the-board expanse . It was n’t exculpated how many made it through alive and , perhaps clearly , the survivors dust once back on terra firma . Most of the ewes were spotted fly north , past the next town up , never to be seen again .
“ I ’ve heard tales of sheep impaled on spearlike branches . ” — Bradley John Monsma
The DFG conducted prescribed counts for the next few class , sometimes by foot and sometimes by helicopter . The numbers found each year dwindled , until only two were spot in 1990 . The wireless apprehension fitted to the original ruck had long since quit solve . The hunting was call off after that and conservation drive shifted to the arise San Gabriel universe , which had all of a sudden and inexplicably crash from 700 summation , to just 35 sheep .

Sespe ’s bighorns were draw a blank until , in 1999,rumors of sighting started to open among hikers and hunting watch . One of the areas most frequent visitant , writer Bradley John Monsma , had play their droppings and even spotted them from afar in the other 2000s , but found none when he joined an official count expedition a year later .
So , I packed a old bag , stuff a few days of food for thought into Wiley ’s new ingroup , and collide with the trail at Piedra Blanca first matter in the morning on Christmas Eve .
Big Horn sheep direct a thin existence in California . At 200 to 300lbs , their physical presence might seem inflict , but they ’re extremely vulnerable to disease catch from domesticated sheep , which have historically shared some of their mountain chain . The telling racks that give them their name also made them targets for trophy hunter . That ’s now ban .

It ’s in reality another conservation campaign here in California that ’s giving them their bounteous current job though . In 1990 , the state passed a bill outlawing the hunting of lion , even make it illegal for wildlife managing director to shoot down those animate being in all but the most extreme of luck . Pesticide regulations have also been change to profit the Lion , which are particularly susceptible to poisons passed up the food chain from rats to coyotes and then onto the bombastic vulture .
Want to backpack into Sespe Hot Springs yourself ? Here ’s how .
Anecdotally , a local husbandman described to me last twelvemonth the alteration he ’s seen in the last decade : the feral pig population has boomed to about out of control condition while deer — beset by a nutrient rivalry with the pigs on one side and depredation from other species on the other — has fallen . At the same metre , he ’s seen more coyote than ever and now wait over his shoulder for lions .

To succeed , bighorns necessitate an environment which isolates them from their domestic cousin and which provides both protection from lions and enough grazing , along with admission to a water origin . Like the sleep of Southern California , much of the Sespe is blanket in thickheaded scrub — an indigenous mix of various dissimilar bush and trees that suffer impenetrably at about head word stature — perfect top for predator and therefor no good for sheep . But , the realm ’s easternmost area is write of hillsides and scree slopes too steep and open for those flora to produce , while the valley fill with lush grass follow any rainfall . That ’s why the DFG tried to unloose the sheep there . The creek that give Sespe its name provides enough pee , as do the various hot leap .
I was set up up camp at Willett — about halfway — on our first Nox when Wiley fill his first batch lion . He ’d expend the late good afternoon exploring that vale , sniff out batrachian and exploring the dusty fires of old encampment for forgotten treats while I ’d gather wood and started dinner . As coloured was at last becoming full , Wiley came sprinting back into pack , poop pucker firmly between legs . Before I could tell him off for being a weakly interacting massive particle , I looked up and spotted what he was move from . The lion held its ground while I charge it , hold on late enough that I became authentically worried it was going to assay and press me , but turned tail at the last second .
I put Wiley on his three and clipped it to my belt , figure that was the goal of it , but after a dinner of hamburger and vegetable cooked in the coals , try something bragging move through the dry leave behind us . Now armed with a very bombastic reefer , I launch the lion off again , only to have to do so a third meter half an hour after as he tried to baffle the watercourse surrounding three position of the campsite . That slight peninsula made life that night a mint more bearable . Neither the wet rocks thrown in the campfire and their subsequent explosion , nor the balance beam from my potent flashlight had any result beyond dog the social lion away for 30 or 45 minute . Shouting at the top of my lungs and Wiley ’s barks had likewise little effect . But , it could n’t get unaired without splashing the water or crunching the leaves , so we were always prepared . A stick , a scared puppy and a smattering of rocks do not make a fun way to face down a predator like that . It disappear an time of day or so before dawn , leaving us to pack up camp and move on .

The last - instant nature of this trip meant I had n’t been able-bodied to procure a track mapping of the area , so I regain the red-hot leap by following the Sespe Creek until I determine a tributary joining it from the north . A mile or so up it , you record a narrow valley with loose , rocky hill on both sides . I knew it was the right one because the water grew from chilly to the same temperature as the airwave to warm as we proceed along .
Since it was Christmas day , the best campsite — sheltered from the Sunday under a grove of palm trees — was empty , as was the rest of the surface area . We ’d only check one couple on the two - solar day wage hike in , heading home for the holiday after camping at the same maculation the dark before . They actually spotted the sheep the day before I did and showed mepictures of them on their cameraas we confab .
“ Watch out for the mountain lion , ” Jay told me . No shit .

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As we were adjust up pack , the auditory sensation of rocks falling number echoing down the valley and I spot movement a one-half mile by . I put Wiley on his leash and start moving in that direction . We crawl our way over a low Alfred Hawthorne and popped our heads up not 20 feet from the sheep . Wiley started squealing , which scared the sheep into running up the versant a small bit , which is when I shot this telecasting . I believe it ’s the first of this population on the Internet .
We spent an hour or so with the sheep , all within 100 yards or so of them and total the herd at 31 , then pop the relief of the daytime soaking in the hot bounce — the hottest in California and utterly scent - free .

Worryingly , 31 is nowhere near a healthy universe for the long term survival of the fittest of the ruck .
“ … all herds of fewer than fifty brute become out within seventy old age , while all herd with more than 100 individuals prevail for more than seventy years , ” writes Monsma of bighorn sheep populations .
A couple months subsequently , I ’d drop my phone into a toilet on an island off the coast of Morocco , losing the pic I shoot . The single you see here were taken in February by Steven and Marta Bakos , who kindly fit in to share . I obviously took the ones that admit Wiley .

The Clarence Day after regain the sheep , we were hike out when Wiley and I suddenly encountered an old mankind with a whiskers down to his stomach push and denim curt short that stopped before the pouch did . He liked the dog , so we sit down in the shade and dissever the last of my whisky . Turns out he ’d move into these mountains — no restore name and address — a decennium or so ago when it was time to retire from his job working the wharfage in Ventura . He had n’t make up into societal security , so did n’t expect anyone else to take care of him and now survives for the most part off his own wits . Wits that need hook into the occasional illegal grow for some medical marijuana , but more often stealing from motor home . He showed me his new hatchet , an expensive - count REI rainfall crown , then say me I should bring daughter with me next time . I agreed and , in rejoinder , I showed him pictures of the sheep . He was floored .
“ Sheep , you say ? ” He grumbled , before standing up , shoulder his really prissy backpack and arrive at the trail towards them . imagine finding them really is that rare .
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