If you plot out the locations of my wing barrels, they make a pattern like a capital H laying on its side. Most are placed close to highways, although two are 15 and 10 miles in on dirt roads. On Wednesday, I set up the barrels on the cross-bar of the H, and the one closest to home. Today I had to get the other eight up.

Cruising down the Interstate I spotted a man walking along the median on the east-bound side, knocking dirt and dust off his baseball cap. He's headed back to the woman, also wearing a baseball cap, waiting in the car along the shoulder of the road.

There's a reason why you don't see many convertibles in this country.

To put up these wing barrels, it would probably be fastest to stick to the highways, but that is not the shortest route.

The "short" route cuts across the desert. Eight-nine continuous miles of dirt roads vs 124 miles of asphalt.

The long route is fast, smooth, easy on the truck and boring.

The short route takes us past the old cabin the ravens nest in, skirts the edge of some small badlands the heelers can run and play hide-and-seek in (and roll in the remains of a dead sheep dog....ewwwww!), and may even run us into an antelope hunter or two.

You know which way we went.