The morning was spent on more office work, looking up UTM coordinates on digitized topo maps. We were supposed to be cloudy, in the 30s and with 40 percent chance of snow, but it was clear when the heeler sisters and I made our lunchtime walk to the post office.

Checked the porch thermometer when we got back.

54^o.

That's fifty-four degrees, folks. As in, the leading digit of that number is a five!

The heck with office work.

Masked heeler did not want to go back into the house, standing on the sidewalk, wistfully staring at the truck.

"I wanna goooooo."

So we did.

Had to dig my hiking boots out of the backseat of the truck. That's another problem with extended cabs: there's twice as much space to lose stuff in.

We were on the road before one o'clock. The sisters were kinda excited... first trip into the country, together, in over three months.

The little maskless heeler spilled the first cup of coffee in the brand new rig before we drove the five blocks out of town.

The radio tech installed the new radio controls on the dash, just above the factory radio. Besides getting the controls off the floor, where they had received spilled coffee, dust, and mud from heeler feet in the previous truck, the new location has at least three other benefits:

1) easier to see and use

2) the little maskless heeler can no longer step on it, changing channels as she was wont to do in the past

3) the heelers can no longer lean up on the center of the dash, hence reducing the frequency of heeler head bumps to the rearview mirror.

Could see the cold front, a bank of clouds pushing against the Ferrises and Seminoes. But we were warm and sunny on the south side, with barely any snow left on the flats. Running water had worn several holes through the ice on the river.

Heelers were hyper and excited all the way to the mountains, so I pulled off into our engagement campsite to give them a break.

First drag race was a draw. Masked heeler won the second race, but lost the third by a large margin. Everything works, but she doesn't have her stamina back yet. Let them snoop through the junipers for several minutes. Masked heeler was so thrilled she came barreling straight at me, slamming her front feet up onto my hips, at least 8-10 times.

I think she missed getting out.

Took this opportunity to finally pick up the two wing barrels I had left up for the blue grouse season. Season's been over nearly two months, so I guess it was time. Despite the warm weather, the ground at the first barrel was still frozen, and I had to jack the posts out. Second barrel came out easy.

Temperature dropped to 27 degrees on the north side of the Seminoes, with little sunlight. Scouted and glassed the main winter ranges, but no elk. Presumably they are still in the timber on the mountains, or they are off to the west.

After drag races four and five, the heeler sisters decided they wanted to play chase the truck. Nothin' doin'! Don't you remember the last time we played that game?

Did flush an adult bald eagle off some rocks in the river at the Miracle Mile. Which then panicked a flock of ducks.

Came around a bend into one of the developed campsites along the river, and was surprised to find half the huge cottonwood trees gone! But no, they weren't gone. Just laying down along the river and in the parking lot. Seven of the twelve big, 40-70 year-old trees had been chopped down.

A quick check of the stumps confirmed my suspicions. Rounded stumps, covered with sidewards tooth marks.

Fuckin' beaver.

We've had beaver destroy trees along this stretch of river before. That's what beaver do. But more than half the trees in just one winter? Four of the surviving trees had their trunks protected by wire. You could see where the beaver had made a good start on the fifth.

Fuckin' beaver. (Think that'll bring any google hits?).

Took time out for one more drag race and a quick game of hide-n-seek. Thought I was doing good, since it took a while for the sisters to find me, but after they did their "we see you" running pass, the maskless heeler doubled back. And resumed the inspection of the piece of dead deer that they had found in the bushes. I guess finding me was just an afterthought.

By 15:40, we were in a snow storm, the temp had dropped to 21 degrees, and the masked heeler was asleep with her head in my lap.

But there are muddy heeler prints all over the right side of the dash.

The new truck is broken in.