Dad, Shelley and I just returned from my dad's Persian Ibex hunt in the Florida Mountains of southern New Mexico. For those of you unfamiliar with the state, the Florida Mountains, (pronounced Flooreeda) are extremely steep, jagged, inhospitable desert mountains, just south of the town of Deming near the Mexico border. Dad was one of 15 successful applicants to draw the coveted "once in a lifetime" tag to hunt Ibex. Dad spent a significant amount of time researching the hunt early this fall and requested the help of Shawn Choat from Animas in southern New Mexico. Shawn made many trips to the Florida Mountains while Dad and I were on other local hunts and a Whitetail deer hunt in Missouri. Shelley, Dad and I arrived the day after Thanksgiving (last Friday for our Canadian friends :) ) and set up camp. We spent the evening checking on some Ibex that Dad's research had led Shawn to locate. We luckily found the Ibex we were after. Let me tell you, I have never seen a more courageous, perhaps mentally disturbed animal in my life. During the rut, these things seem to defy gravity and have a perpetual chip on their shoulder. We watched the males (I don't know if they're Rams, Bulls, or Billies) fight, push around females, and generally take their agression out on anything vertical, whether it be mammal or plant. Their ability to maneuver the sheer vertical cliff faces and boulder piles just left us awestruck. If you ever have an opportunity to hunt Ibex, DO IT! Anyway to continue, Shawn showed up that evening and we planned the morning hunt. The plan was to have me deliver Shawn and Dad to the base of the mountain so they could climb in the dark for an hour to a planned ambush site. The following morning, Shawn and Dad arrived at a small oak tree at the base of a 200 foot cliff where the Ibex were sleeping high above predators reach. As daylight broke, the Ibex bounded down from their perch and paraded toward a small mountainside spring and in front of Dad and Shawn. With one well placed shot from my borrowed .270 Dad downed his 41-inch Ibex. Shelley and I were out on the desert floor in my truck watching as the Ibex fled the scene over the cliff faces to safety. Shelley and I climbed up to help pack the Ibex off the hill only to find that these things are only about 27 inches tall and weigh about 60 pounds.
