Well, the heeler sisters are tired. That alone is an accomplishment.

Our spring blizzard broke yesterday (although they say it may come back today... may be, it was warm and sunny an hour ago, and now we're overcast). But we got out today, the first morning in five!

As usual, I've done most of the leks close to town early in the strutting season, so now that sunrise is earlier, I need to check the strutting grounds farthest from home. Which means getting up even earlier. This is not logical.

Left at 04:45 this am, and it would have been better if we'd left 15 minutes earlier. Skies were overcast, and we kept driving through patches where the clouds had decided to walk, otherwise known as fog. Assuming nobody else would be up this early (wrong: met at least five outfits), I maintained highway speeds all the way through the fog.

When we dropped off the uplift by Corky's truck (it's still there), I could see the nearly full moon setting in the west, golden below the cloud bank.

It's a good 70 miles just to the turnoff for the first lek. And then good damp sand the rest of the way. Was worried they may be done strutting, but there were 37 cocks on the lek. And four hens!

Now, if a hen loses her eggs early, while the males are still strutting, she will occasionally come back to breed again and renest. Depends on how healthy she is, which depends on how lush the spring is. I'm guessing these four hens are renesters, trying again after our blizzard.

No grouse on the second lek, as has been normal for many years. The third strutting ground is in deep sage, and the birds are hard to see. Counted seven from sitting in the cab of the spare truck, but saw at least 29 when I stood on top of the cab.

The fourth lek is at the base of the Ferris Mountains, on the north side. The mountains and their coat of pines are glazed with snow and frost, with clouds trying to boil over and around the sides. Behind us the valleys are still filled with fog. And we are traveling in the narrow band of green and tan between the two worlds of white.

The fourth lek was empty, except for one cock hiding in the sage that the heelers flushed when we walked in to check for scat. And we found feathers of a predated cock. And fresh grouse guts, and blood on the grass. And a fresh pile of coyote shit. Wiped the blood with my fingers. Still wet and bright red. Fresh. Somewhere really close by someone was taking breakfast home to the bitch and pups.

Neat, but disappointing. I'm sure I won't have time to come back again to count this lek. And it is one of my favorites.

We were flying a winter elk trend count in late February quite a few years back, with excellent, deep snow cover. The pilot and I were trying to find elk by looking for their tracks leaving the mountains. And we found a circle of tracks in the snow. Lots of tracks that stuck out like neon in the early morning sun. But no critters.

And most mysterious of all, no entry or exit tracks. Someone or something had beat out the snow in this little circular area, but they had not walked in, nor walked away. And they were gone. Pilot turned over his shoulder and gave me a "fuck if I know" look, and we went on to find elk.

Wasn't until weeks later that my slow brain figured out who had made those tracks and, lo and behold, I had a new lek on the map.

The heeler sisters tried to make up for lost days, drag racing well out of sight when we were done with the lek. I tried to play hide and seek, but have you ever tried to hide in black sage that is never more than 8" tall? Quick game.

Then they decided they wanted to play "catch the truck." But, as they have been doing the past 3-4 weeks, they don't give me enough of a head start to make a real race out of it. But unbeknownst to them, this spare truck has a 5.6 liter V-8 engine. A little peppier than what we regularly drive. Good acceleration.

I ran them 3/4-mile before I let them catch up.