We lost Wednesday and Thursday mornings to rain and mud, so I was eager to get out on Friday, for the third running of the standard lek count route in the dunes.

I wasn't the first one up, though. Youngest son had a band trip to the cities to the west, so his alarm actually went off 15 minutes before mine. Still, we were on the road by a minute after five. The shrunken moon fairly low in the southeast, I had hopes the grouse might start strutting a little later after sunrise. Especially since the past two days of rain should have put a damper on their activities, as well.

I was wrong.

Everything was fine at the first of the six leks on the route, and I got to the second strutting ground a few minutes before sunrise.

And found only nine cocks. Not very active, and they all left within four minutes of my arrival.

Counts were near expected numbers at the remaining leks, but the poor attendance at number two certainly messed up the grand total for the route: only 187 cocks (we had 204 on the 9th... male attendance is supposed to go up after the hens peak, not go down).

Had the entire route done before an hour after sunrise. So, what to do?

We're running out of mornings, and still have plenty of leks to check. Headed south through the dunes, and then west into the low mountains along the Continental Divide. Passing the headquarters of what used to be the last sheep ranch in these parts (the last of their sheep having shipped out 8 October).

Didn't expect any grouse on the first of the two leks up this basin. Only seen birds using it a few times. Only started checking it when the pilot mentioned a lot of birds used to strut there.

He knows, because he and his brother were mudbogging in that country, while still in high school, and got stuck. And got to spend a moonlit night out there in the sage. Listening to the grouse strut, all night. He pointed out the spot from the air, some thirty years later.

A spot still imprinted in his mind.

But surprise, surprise! Two cocks still strutting on the lek I expected to be vacant.

Nobody on the second ground, but it was already an hour an a half after sunrise. Walked the lek, checking for sign of use, just the same. Wasn't in the mood for muddy footprints all over everything, so I left the heeler sisters in the truck.

Found recent fecal and caecal droppings, as well as tracks from that morning, so the grouse had been there. Also found a token from last fall:

The shed horn from an antelope buck. From sometime around November or December.

As we headed back out past the ranch, the sisters were eager for a chance to run. And I almost relented. With the sheep gone, there probably won't be any poison baits set out here any more.

I was wrong.

Fortunately, I did not let the heelers out near here. 'Cause I don't think the little warning sign would save them.

Even if it is printed in Spanish (which I don't think they read or understand).

Apparently an effective spot. Less than ten meters away were the bones of a coyote from a year or so ago.

And another twenty meters up the trail, the more recent remains of another.

While kneeling for the first "coyote getter" picture above, my knee nudged a small grey rock on the sandy trail.

Something made me look. I flipped it over, and brushed the sand off the edges.

Another scraper. A stone buried here in the sand for more than a century, since someone last used it to scrape the flesh off a hide. Shown now with something more interesting than coyote remains, from last year's Swimsuit edition.

Not as comfortable on my fingers as the other, but still a pleasant find.