A Surprise Bighorn Encounter at the Trailhead Base
There is a distinct rhythm to planning a landscape shoot. When you are looking to build out your portfolio with premier Colorado photography locations, you check the weather, calculate the sun’s angles, and map out the trails well ahead of time. My wife and I headed down to Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs for that exact reason—to find the perfect composition for a sunset shoot later that evening.
We spent the afternoon hiking along the Palmer Trail, soaking in the day and enjoying each other’s company. After locking down a great spot for the evening light, we hiked back to the main staging area to drop off the heavy gear and kill a couple of hours before sunset, even talking about grabbing a bite to eat nearby.
Then, the day took a completely unplanned turn.
My wife headed down to the public facilities while I was packing the gear into the truck right there at the trailhead base. A few minutes later, she walked back, visibly excited.
“You would not believe what I just saw,” she said. “There are bighorn sheep down there. Grab your camera and go!”
My immediate instinct was hesitation. I didn’t have my massive telephoto lens unpacked, only my medium telephoto lens. Figuring they’d be high up on the distant red sandstone ridges, I assumed I’d be under-gunned.
But she smiled and insisted, “You don’t need the big lens.”
Trusting her word, I grabbed the body and the medium telephoto lens and hurried down the path right near the clearing. Sure enough, right there, no more than 30 to 60 feet from the main pavement, was a herd of Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep.
Seeing these animals in the wild is always a privilege, but seeing them at this proximity is entirely different. The herd included some magnificent, mature rams. At that distance, the sheer scale of their curled horns is staggering. You can’t help but marvel at the pure biology of it—those horns carry immense weight, and seeing the massive neck muscles required to support that kind of weight all day long gives you a profound respect for their strength.
Because the herd was so completely relaxed, the entire encounter shifted into what felt like slow motion. I didn’t have to scramble or shoot frantically hand-held. Instead, I had the ultimate luxury in wildlife photography: time.
I was able to quietly set up my tripod, adjust it to the exact right height to match their eye level, and really dial in my settings without any rush. They just calmly grazed, completely unfazed by the visitors gathering around the path near the overlook.
That calm demeanor allowed me to read their rhythm and pull off some highly intentional photography. I would lock focus on the specific ram I wanted, frame the shot, and just wait.
Because I was cropped in so tightly for a headshot, looking through the glass was mesmerizing. Seeing their eyes up close, with that striking, deep coloration, was absolutely amazing. There’s a sharp, piercing quality to a bighorn’s gaze that stays with you. The moment he paused grazing, lifted his massive head, and locked that piercing look right toward the lens, I’d time the shutter. It was a dream scenario where everything lined up perfectly—the composition, the steady support of the tripod, and the timing.
We were fortunate enough to sit with them for about 15 to 20 minutes before they naturally moved along.
Once they moved off, I looked over at my wife, still a bit stunned by the luck of it all. I’ve spent countless hours in the field, but I’ve never been that close to bighorns while they remained that perfectly undisturbed.
I headed back to the truck, swapped the medium telephoto lens back out for my dedicated landscape setup, and got ready for the original sunset shoot.
It was a powerful reminder of a golden rule in wildlife photography: always be prepared. Out in the wild, you simply never know what you’re going to cross paths with. To walk away with a successful scouting trip, a phenomenal sunset setup, and a tight set of bighorn portraits all in a single afternoon? You just can’t top that. But the best part of the day wasn’t just the portfolio additions—it was sharing an incredible, spontaneous experience with my wife.
