I have hunted sheep once, and been on about a dozen sheep hunts. With sheep hunting, it is all about the experience.
First of all, tags are about impossible to come by. This, combined with the majesty of a big ram and the country the live in create a situation where sheep hunts and all that they encompass create a life of their own.
Before applying, I spend a lot of time going over stats, looking at harvest reports, herd estimates, and any information I can get my hands on. I usually "know" where I am going to apply, but I do this to make sure I am not missing anything - I only have so many chances to apply in a lifetime and with extreme odds of success in drawing I need to make sure I am doing the right thing for me.
When I drew my tag in 1998, the scouting begain in earnest immediately upon finding out I had the tag. I was down at the DOW getting harvest reports for the previous 15 years. I bought maps of the area, started calling previous hunters, DOW biologists and, oh yeah CELEBRATING.
With three months between drawing and the actual hunt, I began to get in the best shape I could during the week, and spent weekends scouting. All of my friends who are sheep nuts joined in. By the time the season had rolled around I think there were about 60 man days of scouting that had gone on - and my tag was not in a premium or highly sought after unit. This unit at that time had a herd estimate of 100 sheep - I saw over 50 different rams in my scouting and too many ewes/lambs to keep count of. By the time the season rolled around I had a list of three specific rams I would consider shooting. I was in the mountains 5 days prior to opening day looking for the number one sheep with the goal of patterning him. The evening before season opened I was able to watch the ram from 100 yards and was so excited I could not sleep that night. Then, on opening day, I could not find him. I found the ones he ran with, other sheep, a full curl ram (that has a good story behing him later), but I could not find "my" ram. After 5 days, he appeared one evening on a ridge at the end of legal shooting light. The next morning I was where I had seen him last, but no luck... until my friend spotted him on another ridge, headed for timber. I used every bit of energy and endurance I had make the one mile sprint at 12,500' to get in front of him for a shot. And he was delicious.
There is really no comparison between this kind of a hunt and going after random deer, or elk for that matter.
I have a similar story from 2002 when I was priveleged to help a friend of mine in S-26 (your backyard) take a 15 year old, 39 1/2" bruiser. Sheep, sheep country and all that goes with it really get into your blood.