09:50.

I'm making notes for this entry as the heelers snoop. We're in the burn now, a couple miles west of Whiskey Peak.

They found something really good. Both pooped a pile near the same spot, ran around, and then went back to each put down a second pile at the same place. Don't know who's been there, but the sisters felt the need to really impress them.

The burn is at least five years old now, an escaped "prescribed" fire, and looks great. Lush and green.

The sage is coming back well. Not enough plants to support nesting sage grouse, but lots of young sprouts. And the older plants are thick with leaves and seeds.

Thermopsis is growing everywhere. And a few snowberry plants. More than enough rabbitbrush, of course.

Really, the only indication this was burned is the hillsides of black and white tree skeletons. It's been raining here as well, and you can still smell the burned wood off the dead trees. After all these years.

Someone has been upgrading the road. Fresh blading, and the grader is still here. Possibly the hang gliders?

Whiskey Peak is a renowned hang glider launching point. I suspect the record has since been broken, but the world record distance hang gliding flight began here. Well over 200 miles.

He landed in South Dakota.

Antelope have been using this area since the trees were burned, but not today. Just cows and horses.

Played a quick game of hide-and-seek. I won, because the heelers had to return back to the truck and regain my scent. Then the masked one made a beeline up my trail.

The route out of the burn is rough, just rocks and sandy loam that washes away easily with every rain. This is the route where I finally broke a truck. Not broke as in it had to be fixed. Broke as in it could not be fixed. They stripped everything off the truck and then rebuilt it on a new frame.

The truck before this one. The last ¹/₂-ton they bought for me (I hope).

Oh, and I was wrong. Two doe antelope bedded in the bare dirt by the burn, along with two fawns.