The heeler sisters and I left home at 0728. Cool, only 44 degrees.

By 0739 I was setting up signs for today's check station. Just immediately north of town, on the relatively new historic marker pullout.

Do you know where the original red paint for the Brooklyn Bridge came from?

I do.

Now, these large aluminum signs need to be temporarily wired to the highway reflector posts. And I had the unfortunate horror of watching one shake and swivel in our wind so bad once that it broke the wires and went sailing across the highway.

Less than 50 meters in front of a traveling minivan.

So when they reconstructed this stretch of highway, I salvaged a few large rocks and keep them on the shoulder by the posts I use. And use the rocks to brace the bottoms of the signs, reducing the shake in winds.

Been using these same rocks for well over five years, now, I guess.

Pick up the second rock for the second sign, and notice a large black spot.

Black widow.

Female black widow.

Okay, I guess I won't use your rock this year. And grab a third, spare rock.

Another black widow.

Well, there are no other rocks handy, so she got to spend the hot day alongside the asphalt and an aluminum sign.

Apparently didn't bother her too much, as she was still there when I moved the rocks off after sunset.

Now, this pulloff unfortunately has the habit of collecting trash. From travelers unwilling to hold on to it for another mile, or from kids and lovers using it for a rendezvous point late at night. So I usually spend my first ten minutes or so on check station duty filling a trash bag with litter.

This year the mess was particularly heavy, and gross. So I left it as was.

The first antelope came through at 0801. By 0808 I had stripped off my t-shirt because it was getting so warm. This is a busy highway these days, so that cannot be done in isolation. In the past, I would wait until there was a gap in traffic from the south, and rely on the open door to shield my stripping in public from passers-by from the north.

This new truck has two doors. Screening in both directions!

No waiting. Cool. (Came in real handy when peeing, too. Since that always has to be done into a bottle on this roadway.)

By 0810 I could stand it no more, and began picking up the trash, while the heelers took another break. The used disposable diapers and piles of human fecal material with soiled paper towels do not go into the trash bag. These are quickly shoveled under little piles of gravel.

Amazing how pleasant the work place suddenly became.

Parking along this highway, especially between the dump and town, and between the new shooting range and town, generates a lot of vehicles stopping that have nothing to do with hunting.

One of the first was our U.S. Marshall and his wife. Just passing by and stopped to visit. Joined shortly by a couple deputies out sighting in a new toy tool.

Regarding the great distances some of the folks were sighting in at the new range, one deputy commented that if you wanted to arrest someone shooting like that, you would "have to call them on their cell phone to tell them to put their hands up."

Some fellow citizens from Indian Bath town stopped by just to ask questions about CWD. But were worth noting since they had a pair of heelers in the back of the truck. Woman was quite taken with the sisters and their cute blaze orange bandannas.

After answering the man's disease questions, I asked if their heelers were friendly.

He immediately got that cautious look that heeler owners get. Because most of the time heelers are predictably nice, but sometimes there is something about a person that they just don't like.

And they let you know.

"Sometimes," was his honest response.

I promptly went back and introduced myself to the uncertain red heeler (the blue wanted nothing to do with the stranger). Who became my best friend as soon as she discovered my hands were covered with antelope blood.

Had an older couple from Kansas stop by.

To ask why our highway snowfences were 1) so tall 2) slatted and 3) all facing west instead of north.

Really.

So I had to explain that 1) we need 12' fences because by the end of a normal winter we'll have 8-10' tall snow drifts behind them and 2) we have University folks who have studied the physics and aerodynamics of snowflake deposition (really) who can tell you how wide the boards need to be, and how wide the spacings in between the boards and 3) because our prevailing winter winds are from the west-southwest, not the north.

Yes, our bitter cold storms come from the north, but their winds usually only last a day or two. The rest of the winter the wind blows from the west.

So then our conversation turned to their real reason for traveling our highways. On their way to the Tetons.

"How far is it?"

Five to six hours. He looks at his watch. They can make it if they don't mind arriving around midnight.

"But then we wouldn't see anything. And that's why we're here," he says. People after my own heart. So I play tourism guide and give them options on how to get where they're going, and where to stay the night.

Another fellow, a newly arrived resident, came by and turned around in our pullout at least three times. Third time he stopped to explain.

Flushing his radiator, and needs to run each rinse through the system.

And asks why I'm there.

After explaining, he seems shocked to hear antelope season is open. On both sides of the highway now.

"But they're standing right there," he says, pointing at the half dozen pronghorn, including a nice buck, along the highway between us and town.

Yep. Folks from eastern states where unlimited numbers of folks buy licenses and go out to hunt have a hard time comprehending the idea of strictly limited numbers of hunters. And the fact that the game animals seem to take it all peacefully in stride.

Until they hear the first bang, of course.

Interesting dispatch call of the day: not sure which warden they were trying to reach, but someone in his district was reporting two antelope bucks who had been sparring, and got their horns stuck together.

It happens.

Sometimes fatally.

Usually one or the other will manage to finally break part of one of his opponent's horns off so that they can separate.

But not always.

All in all, I was busier than expected. Over 40 antelope through. And horns generally larger than expected. And at least four kids with their first antelope.

If it hadn't been so darn hot, would have been a perfect day.

That, and the left rear tire starting to go flat on me.