So, that's it. Project complete.

I think I have always known I was lucky to be where I am, doing what I do, spending time with the folks I know. In the past five years or so, I have had more and more people mention, either on the phone or at a check station, how envious they were of my job. Often by ones who got the education for this profession, but then got sidetracked to some other place, some other style of life.

I have considered writing a book about my experiences. A few of which have made it into this journal.

The elk calf resting her head on my shoulder.

The ancient limber pine I pass by and visit every year.

The rattlesnake den I wander through and informally census every fall.

The bridge I pass over several times a year. And occassionally go out of my way to avoid.

Of course, my favorite, strutting sage grouse.

Others in this profession have done it. I've seen their books, even bought one. Then about 13 months ago I ran across my first online journal. And got hooked. And it occurred to me. I could just write a diary for one year, and get some of those moments down in print.

A year in the life of a wildlife biologist in the Rocky Mountain West.

That year ends today.

As with most things, it did not go as planned.

I was not an overnight sensation, rivaling Anenigma or Pischina. In fact, after a few months of modest growth, readership has been pretty static. About 55 hits a day. Got 24 diarists on the buddy list, but at least four of those are dead diaries, so the actual number of folks reading this has not changed much, either. Although there are a fair number of you not on the Dland system.

If hits today are just a little over average, I'll finish the year with a nice round number.

About the same number of miles I used to drive every year, before the outfit started restricting our working hours.

I don't care much about hits anymore, though. I have watched other diarists, some of whom are real hit whores, and have noticed quite a few of the tricks they use to get people to their diaries. Nothing wrong with that, but I have actually enjoyed going back and reading my own entries. This has been enough.

Still got 10,000 gold membership banner hits to use. Anyone want to buy them?

Profile says I wrote 432 entries before this one. Add in one that I deleted, and take out four that were largely plagiarized quotes of someone else's words.

Probably should archive those entries. Probably should save them somewhere.

I did not plan on so much of this journal being mundane, this is my life, type of stuff. But interesting wildlife events do not happen every day, so all the other stuff came in.

Did not plan on being such an advocate of red heelers. But it's all true.

Probably my biggest surprise was how this journal has brought my wife and I closer together. Allowed her to see things through my eyes. To experience some of the things in my life that we never seem to have the time to talk about. Brought out some discussions we have been avoiding for a while. Shared some laughs that otherwise would have been missed.

All good stuff.

But by far, the unexpected bonus was running across a whole bunch of new online friends. People who are as real to me as many of the folks physically in my life. People whose lives I enjoy and care about. People I worry about. People who come into my mind every day, whether they write or not.

Largely thanks to Silver's prodding me to get a guestbook, so you could all (or almost all) introduce yourselves.

So, it's been a good year.

Now what? Is this the end of Grouse?

Not hardly.

Although I have given it serious thought, since that was my original plan. Serious enough to realize that I like life a lot better as Grouse, with all you friends watching over my shoulder, sharing pieces of my day.

Tomorrow we start Year 2.

And the boss already told me I didn't need to attend the meeting scheduled for all day tomorrow, so the year is off to a good start.