A long and hot day. Would have been hard to take without the visits.

I don't know what to call the hunters I have known for a long time. They are more than acquaintances, but since I know little about them other than their hunting habits, I can hardly call them friends.

Had one come through with his family, a guy who had moved to another corner of the state several years ago. Proud of daughter with her first antelope (one shot). But obviously peeved about his daughter-in-law. "She's not having a good time out here in the country."

Well, she looks to be 7-8 months pregnant. That might put a damper on some of the fun when you're bouncing around over rocks and eating dust.

Damn inconsiderate of her to get so pregnant during huntin' season.

(I got some comments about poor planning when eldest son showed up in October, but hey, he came out a month early. Hardly my fault. Also got some less than kidding snide comments from folks in the outfit about getting married and wanting a honeymoon in the fall. Apparently my priorities weren't quite right.)

Teasingly gave the 11-county couple a hassle over not bringing the head of their antelope out. All I really want to do, and the only real reason I sit along these roads, is to look at the teeth of the harvested animals so I can tell how old they were. Checking an antelope without teeth is kind of a waste of time (other than the enforcement assist to the game wardens), and quite frustrating when it's been an hour since you last saw a dead goat.

But these nice folks, who've been here before, promptly turned around and drove the four miles back to get the head, just so I could look at the teeth.

Nonresident came through and asked "Aren't you the guy who was here four years ago?"

Yep, and for the 17 years before that, too. This very same spot.

"Thought I recognized the dogs."

Jim and his wife came out from the desert with another pocket full of arrow heads. Don't know why I ask to see them, it just hurts too much. He always finds such perfect specimens.

Interesting item of the day from Dispatch:

Apparently there was a gentleman on the highway west of Home on the Range, wearing only shorts, waving a stick at traffic.

Never heard what became of him.

One of the wardens had to come by to borrow my second spare, since he had a flat tire and foolishly only carries one spare. Pretty certain he can't get one fixed this weekend.

He borrowed my second spare for several weeks last summer. After I drove over 150 miles to deliver it to him (he lost two tires in one day).

This is the same warden that hassled me over wasting $114 of the outfit's money on a second 7-hole rim when I got this truck four years ago.

Traffic was running an average of one vehicle per 10 seconds (high for us). I counted. But slowed down before sunset.

Watched the gorgeous sunset while sitting cross-legged on the toolbox in the back of the truck.

With a heeler sitting patiently on each side.

Peaceful.

In addition to making our sunsets and sunrises really red, the smoke from the western forest fires also gave us a blood red moon.

Now both heeler sisters are worried about the missing family. They both left half their dinners, and both slept in the living room.