Tuesday was the second run of my standardized counts on the desert leks. Fairly uneventful, except for the nearly full moon hanging high in the western sky.

Which meant the grouse have been strutting almost all night, and will probably be quitting early after sunrise.

Which they did.

Got to the first lek well before sunrise, for a count of 21 cocks. Had 43 cocks and 4 hens on the second lek, which was where I was when the sun finally came over the horizon. None of the grouse were along the meadow, or west of the creek, where the new fence went in this winter.

Found 85 cocks and nine hens on the third strutting ground, but activity was already shutting down. Nineteen of the males flew off in the middle of my count (which means you not only have to get a count of the birds flying off like WWII bombers, but you also have to check their sizes and look for the white breasts (google bait, I know) to make sure they're all cocks, and not sneaking out a few hens with the group).

So I wasn't surprised there weren't any birds on the small, fourth lek. Even though we were there only 39 minutes after sunrise.

Gave the sisters their usual mad dash run down the two-track, and then we raced down the paved mine road to the final lek. And were surprised to find 35 cocks still strutting ('course, there were two hens still hanging around, so no wonder the boys were still trying to show off).

Tried another close lek just for fun, and all we found were two cocks strolling off together.

So, the net total for the route? 185 cocks and 15 hens. Four fewer males than last week, but I'm sure that's just because of the full moon. Should see a noticeable increase next week, and we probably won't have to race against the sun quite so hard.

Weather forecast said we should get rain, turning into snow, Tuesday night and on into Wednesday.

With any luck, I thought I'd be able to sleep in. When our evening youth group meeting was over (we're working on aviation now, hoping to take them all up in a plane in May or June), we got sprinkled on for the drive home.

My hopes were up.

When the wife gave the heelers their last out for the night, I asked if was snowing yet.

"No", was the reply.

So I had to check and see for myself. A dry sidewalk.

Craaap.

So, at 05:46 the next morning, the sisters and I were headed out for the standard count route in the dunes. And found this glowing ball waiting for us.

Knew it was going to have to be a quick run again, because the grouse in the dunes would be quitting just as early as those in the desert.

We got the the first lek at 06:14, to count 38 cocks and three hens. The moon set as we were hurrying down the shortcut to the second strutting ground (a route through the dines that you can't take until all the snow is gone).

Noticed an eagle sitting on a post at the old buildings by the ponds, just before the secong lek. But an eagle sitting isn't anywhere near as disturbing to grouse as one flying.

'Course, no telling when this particular eagle settled down on that particular pole.

But minutes later I reached the lek to find...

nothing. Not one darn grouse.

G*d*m*f eagle.

This screws the whole route, since this is the second largest strutting ground. I was cursing the futility of continuing, and the needless loss of sleep (as well as the eagle) as we headed south through the dunes to lek number 3. When it occurred to me.

Why waste time completing the route when I know I can't use the data?

Obvious, I know, but quite a revelation to my fatigued mind that early in the day. Now, the heelers know these routes, and where the stops and gates are, so they were casting a few looks my direction as I turned around and headed back north.

If the route data is lost, maybe I can at least check a couple other leks that are close.

Stopped to give some nasty glares at the eagle as we went by,

which sent it aloft.

Which probably isn't a good idea, if one is out and about trying to find sage grouse to count, but it still gave me some satisfaction to know I had disturbed his rest, just as he deprived me of mine.

Next lek?

Empty.

Likewise for the one just up the hill from it, right along the Continental Divide. But it's been empty for most of the past 15 years or so, so that was no surprise. Didn't get to the next strutting ground until an hour after sunrise, and yet there were still eight cocks out there strutting away.

Which meant, of course, that there had to be a hen close by, and there was.

Had to cross the creek to get to the final lek of the morning, but the ice and snow were all gone, so it wasn't a problem. No grouse on the lek, but that was no surprise given how late we were. Heelers got to run and snoop while I checked for sign, which showed the grouse had been there.

Saw a bufflehead on a pond along the highway on the drive home, which was a pleasant and rare surprise. About the only time I see those little guys is during the migrations.

So this morning we had to rerun the standard route in the dunes. The full moon was of course higher in the sky, but there were enough clouds around, I was hoping the birds wouldn't all be strutted out by the time I got there.

Got to the first lek 22 minutes before sunrise, and found 43 cocks and 3 hens. Now that the hen numbers were down, more of the birds were back on the southern ridge, like in years past.

Passed the old homestead again on the way to the second lek

but no eagle this time. My hopes were up.

But we found only 19 cocks on this lek, which had 37 last week. Several were out in the sage, so either they were quitting before sunrise, or had again already been flushed. As usual, no grouse on the old site to the west. All the males flushed as we drove by, which they normally do not do.

Found 52 cocks and at least one hen on the fourth lek. They were strutting up a storm, which makes me think there were a few more hens hidden in the rabbitbrush and sage.

Lek five was empty.

Craaap. But I've seen grouse flying between four and five, so perhaps they're all on four this morning. We sped on to lek six.

Which gave the heelers their second run of the day, as I wrangled the gate just before the lek.

Clouds were covering the eastern sky, so I was able to see the lek without squinting for once. Found 60 cocks, but quite a few were scattering out already. Had a small plane buzz by to the south, at a really low altitude. Either they're hunting coyotes, or it's some consultants flying the grouse leks for the coalbed methane company (which might explain the empty lek yesterday, and low numbers today).

But either way, we got the route done, despite the full moon. But had only 174 cocks, compared to 204 eight days ago. A decline I again attribute to the full moon more than anything else.

After counting lek number six, we headed east through the dunes on lightly used two-tracks, working our way to the lek we tried to check last Wednesday. About half the grouse left on lek six flushed, again something they rarely do when we're that far away, but they came directly at and over us. Which got the heelers all excited again. The snowdrift in the ghost town was gone, as were those on the other side, so we made it okay. Even Weasel Crossing was dry.

Counted forty cocks at the lek east of the ghost town, most strutting away with vigor. Only a few up on the usual knoll, with most the rest down on the meadows.

Being watched by almost thirty pronghorn.

On the way home, we stopped at some open sand dunes west of the old buildings. And I gave the heeler sisters a long run, them dashing up and down the sides of the dune as I walked down into the basin on the upwind side.

Masked heeler was bouncing and digging in the sand, thrilled to be out. And body slammed into me to stop her downhill dashes several times. Her smaller sister just ran and snooped, happy to be someplace without the dreaded prickly pear cacti. Found a couple old, old bones (whether decades or a century, I do not know) and the leg and foot of a gallinaceous bird (a hun?) from the past winter.

Oh, the best part of the day?

Been noticing a definite green cast to the sage for three or four days now. But while playing a game of hide and seek with the sisters by the dunes, I spotted my first wildflowers of the season.

No idea what they are, but they're green, alive and blooming.