In pursuit of the Siberian ibex. The mountains of the Western Sayan are especially stunning in autumn. At the beginning of October, I set off for these very peaks in search of a Siberian ibex. Our journey took us from Abakan to Sayanogorsk, followed by a four-hour trip upstream in a powerful, comfortable boat to the authorised hunting area on the border of the Krasnoyarsk and Tyva regions. Arriving at the camp, the essentials came first: weapon sighting, a communal dinner and preparations for the morning hike, where I'd be guided by Vasily, an experienced hunter with 20 years' experience, including work with international clients.
The plan was simple: take a boat up the Yenisei River to our drop-off point and begin the climb to a winter shelter built on the mountain. If we didn't bag an ibex on the way, we'd spend the night in the shelter and continue the hunt from the summit. The boat trip was shorter than expected; soon the engine slowed down and we pulled up to the riverbank.
After securing the boat firmly, we began the ascent. The slopes of the Eastern Sayan, draped in the golden hues of autumn, unfolded into breathtaking landscapes. Even the rhododendron had mistaken the season, bursting into purple bloom and adding a festive touch. We followed the course of a roaring mountain stream, then turned toward a ridge and began to scramble up. After a couple of hours and nearly 500 vertical metres, we decided to take a break and inspect the cliff rising ahead. I scanned the area with binoculars, knowing that Vasily would be the first to spot any ibex. His sharp eye and experience leave no chance for a guest.
“There’s a large herd of ibex, and there are trophy-sized ones among them,” Vasily says.
“Where?”
“See the tree? At the very top, look down and to the left between the rocks; there’s a small clearing. That’s where they are!”
I peer carefully and spot them—plenty of them, with both females and males grazing in the sun. The range is workable: 400 metres with a 27-degree angle. I position the rifle comfortably, locate my ibex in the scope, though he’s partially covered by another horned male. I wait patiently. And then he moves into the clear! “Steady,” I tell myself. Holding my breath, I slowly press the trigger. The shot cracks, followed by the unmistakable thud of a hit. It’s a hit! The ibex scatter, bolting out of sight.
Vasily confirms the hit but warns that if my ibex is only wounded, it might hide in the brush, making it hard to find. But I feel confident. “We’ll find him,” I assure Vasily. “He’s ours.”
We head over to check. The descent on grass is steep, and we clutch at bushes as we go. We reach churned-up soil. Wild boar? No—it’s the ibex’s trail, torn up in their hasty escape.
We follow their tracks to a vantage point overlooking the gorge where they disappeared. Vasily scans the area with his binoculars: "There it is!"
"Where?"
"Look, it's standing on a rock. We have to shoot it!"
I quickly aim my rifle. The distance is 200 metres; I fire and the ibex rolls down the slope. Hurray! I've got it! The Siberian ibex was taken in the Sayan Mountains! Words cannot express my joy. Vasily and I congratulate each other; he's as excited as I am. We set off to retrieve the animal, as we still have to field dress it and transport the trophy back to the boat.
"I see it, it's in the bushes," Vasily calls from ahead. The trophy horns are almost a metre long and the growth rings indicate that the ibex is over 13 years old - an impressive size for this region. The hide is beautiful, dark with a white patch on the back. We have taken an old male from the wild, one that has completed its reproductive cycle, making way for younger males, while adhering to the principles of sustainable hunting!
This glorious and challenging hunt was a fitting end to a successful mountain season. It will be remembered as one of the most exciting and vivid adventures in the mountains, worth sharing with fellow hunters, and I'm delighted to share it with you!
