The little maskless heeler was not interested. Not at all.

I let them out almost an hour before sunrise on Saturday, and she quickly came back into the house after doing her business. Likewise her mom. But the masked heeler wanted to go. It did not matter where or why, just so we could go.

The snow whipping around the house and drifting over on my shoveled sidewalk should have deterred her.

It should have deterred me.

But, by God, grouse were out there strutting somewhere, and we had to go try to find 'em. So we did, just me and the masked heeler.

Thermometer said 12^o on our downwind side of the Atlantic branch of the Continental Divide. Interstate was more than half ice, with ghosts of snow skittering across. Only a couple other fools out and about.

As soon as we passed over onto the upwind side of the Divide, the temp dropped to 2^o (and never got above 7^o). But the asphalt had been too cold for the snow to stick, so the roads were dry. 75 all the way.

A half mile off the Interstate I stop to let the masked heeler out. She slept for most of the drive, her head on my leg. But now she is eager to run.

Open the door, and out she goes at full speed. And then quickly comes back, looking for her sister.

And, just like last year when her wimpy sister refused to come out in the cold, the masked one never noticed she was the only heeler in the truck. Now she's looking up in the cab for her partner. Then a duck of the head as she peeks under the truck. And a peek around the front. Now she's bummed.

Drag racing is no fun alone.

A quick pee in the snow, and she loads back up.

Got to the first strutting ground a minute or two before 0630, less than ten minutes before sunrise. This lek is on a sage flat just east of the Pacific branch of the Continental Divide and, appropriately enough, called the Continental Divide lek. (Of course I think it's appropriate... I named it.) The birds strut in several small clearings in grouse-high sage, and are hard to spot. Know several biologists who have tried to find this lek, and failed. But I know where the secret road is.

Park the truck sideways in the sage to get the scope out, and find I cannot get the window down. It is frozen shut. Had to open the door and let all our warm air out to use binocs on the lek.

No birds. Beautiful red and orange sunrise over the Atlantic branch 29 miles behind the lek, but I would rather see birds. Country is still full of snow, with only the tops of the sage sticking out. Hop out to scrape the ice off the driver's window, and pry the rubber lining from the glass, and then back in to relative warmth.

Using the 22x scope finds the same thing. No grouse. Off to lek number two.

Gonna have to watch this 5.4 liter engine and automatic transmission. Cruising down the pipeline road to the next lek, bouncing along other folks' ruts in the snow and over frozen mudholes and I look down at the speedometer.

60 mph. Actually a little higher. Used to be I could just select the best gear and not have to worry about going too fast. Now I'm going to have to watch the speedometer.

There are several gas wells along this road, and with each well passed the drifts and ruts on the road get worse. When the last access road to a well turns off to the south, the road becomes impassable. But I can scope the rise the grouse strut on.

Nobody there. Off to lek three for the morning.

Last half mile is on a two-track road, with foot-high drifts behind every sage plant on the right side. None on the left. And the drifts are rock-hard on top. So the heeler's side of the truck is bouncing up and down every few meters. Long half-mile. And no cocks when we get there. (Heh. I just used "rock-hard" and "cocks" in the same paragraph... good google bait.)

Lek number four for the morning is the most important. Gas wells have been drilled on three sides now (not always respecting the supposed 1/4-mile buffer) and a company has staked a well site less than 150 meters away. Another asked last week if they could continue drilling within the buffer zone around the lek during breeding season. Suspect the federal government will allow them to do exactly that, although the EIS said they wouldn't.

More bouncing over hard drifts on only one side of the road. My side, this time. Swear the masked heeler was smirking.

No grouse. Basically, either it is too early in the season for this part of the country, or it is just too damn cold and windy for the cocks to get excited.

Got lost on all the new gas well roads trying to get out.

Lot of traffic by the time we got back on the interstate. Including the wife's godson's mother, who waved as she whizzed by on her way home from the gas patch (GPS said we were going 75.1 mph... won't speculate on her speed).

Stopped at the post office before going home to pack for the overnight trip to fetch the eldest son. Someone had walked their dog on the sidewalk before the wind blew the snow away. Now there were these perfect, white boot and dogfoot tracks running the length of the bare concrete.