I had just finished pounding in the fourth steel post for the third wing barrel of the day when the truck pulled up. Three men, probably five to ten years my seniors.

One bearing a map.

So I guess I'm taking a break.

They're deer hunters from Michigan. Asking if I'm familiar with this area.

Somewhat.

"Do you know how we can get to the towers?"

He means Scotty McKay Peak.

We're sitting at the junction of two county roads. That one'll get you there.

"Can we hunt there?"

Oh, boy. Drove a thousand miles or so and just now decided to do their homework. At least they're here five days early.

So we spread out the map, and I show them where we are, where "Separation Peak" is, and sketch out the rough boundaries of the ranches in the area. They'll need their permission to hunt.

That's bad news #1.

They hate the checkerboard. Where every other square mile is private, blocking access to the public lands. "Whose bright idea was that?"

Congress, who do you think? I point to the railroad tracks 30 meters away. And explain the checkerboard extends twenty miles north and south of those tracks.

But they're in luck. The main rancher around the towers allows hunting, you just have to get a permission card where you absolve him of all liability.

Like if you roll your truck in a ditch. Or over a cliff.

Even have his phone number memorized (it's an easy one).

They ask where the best place to hunt would be (like every hunter doesn't ask that question). I point out the area around the towers is actually probably a good bet. If they're willing to walk.

Turns out they know that. Been here before, about 15 years ago. Hoping to repeat a good hunt.

Fair chance I've met them before.

As I'm digging out one of my maps to show them another part of this area where they can hunt on public land, one man speaks up. Not so sure they can go off their map, since they just have Region D licenses.

Ohhhh, crap.

Here comes bad news #2.

You can't hunt here.

As in, you can't hunt by the towers, or pretty much anywhere on your map. This area's been a limited draw hunt for four or five years.

No regional licenses allowed.

Boy, was I an unpopular fellow by this point. So I get out the map they do need. And they ask where to get one. Checking my watch, I start counting down. Three...two...one... nope, the BLM office that sells these just closed for the day.

Bad news #3.

So we look over my map, as I explain about some Missouri hunters making the same mistake last year. And getting caught in the wrong area by a warden. Lots of tickets to go around.

Show them exactly where the area boundary is. The line they must stay south of. And make several suggestions on where to hunt, and what access roads would be best. And how to avoid the crowds.

After describing one sandy road, the driver asks if they will be okay in a two-wheel drive truck.

I lean past him to look at their rig.

Who makes two-wheel drive trucks?

And why?

And, why would anybody buy one?

Scratch that road, and give them an alternate. But only if it's dry.

They thank me for my time and info and head to their rig. Something tells me, with this crew I have to ask.

You got your Conservation Stamps yet?

Blank stares.

Bad news #4.

Maybe it's the new camera, or maybe it's the smoke from the remaining wildfires, but it seems to me our sunrises and sunsets have been unusually spectacular this summer and fall. Going quickly from the whites to the reds, kind of skipping the yellow and orange hues.

So here's another one.