We were stopped on a ranch access road, not quite halfway to regional office town. And the heelers had been eager for their break. It's been over a month since they were last out.

Yeah, they'd been on rides into town, but nothing that let them out in the country. Over a month since their last drag race.

So, as they went barreling down the road and out of sight over the rise, I decided to grab the camera and check for flowers.

Spotting these tiny, tiny blue ones along the road almost immediately.

Gorgeous little things, like forget-me-nots, only on taller plants.

Then I looked a little closer at some of those plants.

Covered in green burrs. Those damn burrs that line the roads in the fall, getting into heeler paws and my boots.

From such pretty flowers.

Now, ain't that just like everything else in life?

Saw some pink farther out from the road, and realized the bitterroots were blooming. All over the place.

Was laying down on the damp, sandy soil (Yes, we've had rain again. Wonderful stuff.), eye focused in the camera trying for a bitterroot shot, when I heard a light squishy sound. And smelled something really bad.

Only to look up to see the masked heeler squatting less than a meter away, doing her business.

Upwind.

With the "Oh, are you here?" look on her face.

Now, her sister wanders all over the countryside finding just the right, private spot for that kind of personal activity, and never, ever does it closer than 30 meters. Often more than a 100 meters away.

So I know the masked one is doing this on purpose.

Moving to the other side of the road, which coincidentally happened to be upwind, I also found the asters blooming like crazy,

mixed in with a bunch of yellow succulents, that I would have called sedum, but now I'm not so sure. Ants seemed to love 'em.

And back along the road, in the disturbed areas, one of my favorite desert flowers.

Scarlet globemallow.

All in all, the flowers are incredible this year. Perhaps it is because, after more than four years of drought, I've forgotten what the country used to look like. But I don't recall anything like this since '95.

So, anyway, why are we here?

Well, the fur collection I used on Saturday? The one that the boss told me not to worry about, because hardly anybody ever needs to use it?

Someone needs it Wednesday.

So, off we go.

Dropped off the furs at the office, and then decided we should get some lunch and coffee for the drive home. And here I am, 128 miles from home, with $1 in my pocket.

Literally. (Not counting my non-spendable Sacagawea).

Thank someone for ATMs.

Found out the local McDs in that town is incapable of handling special orders. All I wanted was two double hamburgers, no pickle no onion, and a double cheeseburger plain. Gal on the microphone couldn't handle that, and forwarded me on to the first window.

The gal there somehow got it wrong, too. So the manager had to snatch the bag back from the gal at the second window, who then asked me to to pull up into the dummy's spot and wait.

I hate waiting aside at a drive-up window. I have, upon occasion, simply refused.

Nope, I'm next in line, and the whole rest of the line is gonna wait until you take care of my order.

Certainly facilitates matters.

But today, I'm in an agreeable mood. I pull up to wait.

Manager has to come back out and double check my order. Really. Since I know how their computers work, I finally explain I want one double cheeseburger plain, two double cheeseburgers with no pickle, no onion, no cheese.

This, the "no cheese" option on a cheeseburger, they understand.

While waiting, I notice the decoration on the end of their flagpole.

Now, maybe it was my mood, and maybe it looks fine from the side, but to me that looks like someone took a crow and skewered it on a sickle. And left it hanging there.

Either way, the burgers were good, and the heelers were quite satisfied. Wife suggested next time I should ask for the cheese on the side, to really mess the crew up, and get extra for the heelers.

As we left that town, munching on our burgers, the big decision came up.

Do we take the highways back home, a roughly two and a quarter hour drive, or do we cut across the desert? Which would be a little longer mileage wise, and probably quite a bit longer time wise.

You know which way we went.

Stopped at the overlook over one of our elk winter ranges, and visited with an older couple traveling through from Michigan. Lady wanted to know what this place was called.

Red Canyon.

Pretty original, huh? But I had to repeat it to her.

From there it was higher into the mountains. Into aspen and conifer, hillsides covered with yellow flowers. Incredibly green.

Then the twisting roads through one of the old gold camps, an historic site, but still mostly occupied.

From the undead ghost town, it was onto the historic trail, reversing the route of the pioneers, and back down into the desert.

Passing on the north side of Continental Peak.

Visited with a hiker on the Continental Divide Trail. Who was concerned about the lightning (we were in rain or sprinkles most of the drive home). And also related his tale about the moose he met earlier, while getting low to avoid lightning, and the rancher whose land he was trespassing upon at the time. She apparently wasn't too concerned (the rancher, not the moose).

Flowers got fewer and fewer as we worked across the desert, most of the spring bloom already past for that country. Did find a few while playing hide-and-seek with the heeler sisters at our usual spot north of Picket Lake.

Heelers are beginning to know this country too well. A mile before we hit asphalt, they start trying to crawl onto my lap.

Asking for one more drag race, before the 70+ miles of continuous dirt road are gone behind us. Ended up being two races, actually.

Seven miles from the highway, we pass a man parked alone in a Colorado car. Which is strange enough, out here, so a half mile ahead, I also pull over and park. And watch him with the binocs.

Finally the old desert rat pulls up alongside, his dash littered with everything under the sun.

Just taking his meds. And checking his blood sugar levels.

Oooookay. Sorry to bother.

And to home we went.