Today, as the First of October has been for all the years of my career, was the opener of our main deer season. A generous "any deer" season for all the country from our interstate to our neighbor state to the south, which attracted more than the usual number of hunters. And I spent the day parked almost exactly where I first parked, exactly 27 years ago.

But this opener was different.

For starters, I wasn't alone. Had up to six different people there helping at different times, and wasn't alone for more than fifteen minutes all day.

The time for serious sampling for chronic wasting disease (CWD) has come. Yeah, I'd managed to pull samples from a couple deer during the archery season, but that was experimental, just to make sure I knew how to find what the lab wanted.

What they want is this:

The retropharyngeal lymph glands. Located right behind the corner of the jaw, nestled against the spine. A quick slash of the throat, and then you start looking for the greyish, kidney-shaped masses kind of floating loose in the neck tissue.

Sometimes quite easy to find, sometimes not.

Our crew collected samples from over 50 deer today. More, apparently, than any of our neighboring stations.

So, I have recited the litany on CWD and it's implications, or lack thereof, to human health dozens of times. And the lab process, the website reporting, and how to butcher your meat to minimize possible contact with the prion.

Newspaper reporters came out for pictures and stories.

Twice.

And yeah, one of them took a shot of the heeler sisters being cute again.

In general, the deer looked to be in good shape. More fat than we'd seen last year, which is no surprise considering how horribly dry last year was. And antlers tended to be larger, a reflection of being one more year past the last tough winter.

Nicest buck was serendipitous, just walking out in front of the hunter like it was the first of August, rather than the first of October.

The last mistake of a long lifetime.

It wasn't all a good day. Before we had had even two animals pass through, I managed to less than gracefully brush past the corner of my tailgate. To hear the horrible riiiiip of blue jeans tearing along a new corner.

Leaving my leg, my pocket, and my underwear exposed.

Amidst the gathering laughter, the boss pointed out shorts were not allowed in the uniform code.

No time to run home to change, as vehicles were seen fast approaching. And my rig was serving as the laboratory bench.

So, this is how I wore my jeans the vast majority of the day:

Wasn't too bad, once the tape finally got all the leg hairs underneath ripped out. And served as a great conversation starter, almost every time I approached a vehicle.

On top of that, deer number five came strapped to the top of an ATV in the back of a pickup. So had to scramble up to check the teeth for age, and help hold the head for the new cutthroat specialist. (That's an in-house pun, by the way.)

And left my data book in the hunters' rig. Something I did not discover for some time after they drove off.

Wasn't too worried, though. I know my community. Less than an hour later, the hunter showed up again. With my data in hand.

Made that same mistake once before, more than a decade ago.

With the same result.

But this

may have been the high point of the day.

A latrine!

Delivered on schedule, less than an hour after I set up. Be here for the first five days of the season. Never had such luxury before.

Lab guy checking out our procedures and supplies asked if an espresso shack was next on our list.

Only had time to use it once today (in 10 hours... yes, hot enough for a little dehydration today), but it was great not to have to crane my neck in four directions in order to use my marine latrine.

The trucker who parked across the highway and desperately ran over to use our little outhouse (without asking) apparently appreciated it, too.

As did the jogger who slipped in for a break on his return lap.