A whole deer season has passed, as of a few hours ago, without me finding the time to record opening day. So, notes from last Wednesday (the 15^th):

First off, the day started at midnight, as a continuation of my comments on the large environmental impact project that the boss had decided was more important than the late sage grouse reports I had been working on (he was right, of course). Finally got the comments out in an email around 01:00.

Then it was waking up about six hours later, and off to check station. With my tailgate laboratory for CWD samples.

And then I waited.

And waited, actually getting to read a morning paper. Enjoying a breakfast of cafe mocha and a chocolate chip fudge muffin. First hunter didn't show up until almost an hour after I set up. And he was empty handed.

As was the second hunter, forty minutes later. Known this fellow for some time, and he stayed to catch up on hunting news, and share opinions on hunting seasons. And casually mentioned his wife gave birth to their son, their first child, on Saturday.

Yep, he's got a new mother and four-day old son back at home, and he's out here deer hunting.

His cell phone rings while we're visiting. A friend calling.

To scold him for going deer hunting when he's got a new mother and four-day old son back at home.

Home he goes.

Two hours after I set up, a cowboy in his pickup with a dog pulls into my pull out, coming from town. And drives past us to read the historic landmark sign that is there. Then turns around and heads back into town.

Ooookay. A little history lesson on a Wednesday morning?

Actually, this sign is a "virtual cache", for those of you who know what that means. But I've been checking the website, and nobody logged a visit for Wednesday. So I don't know what he was doing. Except maybe driving his dog out for its morning duty, and finding me well established at the roadside bathroom, he faked reading the sign and then went off to find another place for his dog to leave his mark.

Ten minutes later another hunter comes out, from our muzzleloader hunt. Quite disappointed in the lack of deer. Describes exactly where he has been, and he hasn't been within five miles of any kind of deer habitat.

Yeah, the map shows the whole huge chunk of country as the deer hunt area, but that doesn't mean we make sure there's deer in every single square mile.

But that's what he expected. And not really interested in my advice on where to actually hunt.

He's just coming in for vehicle repairs. His old grey truck is running rough (which I notice as he sits there idling). I find his personalized plate on this old almost-junk heap amusing.

"HUMR"

The first deer of the day don't come out until after noon. And naturally, there's four in one truck. And from an area where we definitely want samples for chronic wasting disease.

Now, as we learned at the beginning of the month, and as I learned years ago when I started pulling teeth from deer for aging, or poking their hides to check for fat levels, whenever a full truckload comes in, that is when you'll suddenly get busy.

And guess what?

Didn't happen. Got to check and sample these four deer in peace, with no hurry, no rush. Quite pleasant, actually.

If you get into cutting deer throats, and that sort of thing.

Helped that the gal in the hunting family also is a secretary, and just stepped in to take over recording data and making sure all samples were labeled right.

Around one o'clock another biologist calls, wanting clarification on one of my environmental comments.

Okay, so I don't write the most coherent sentences at one o'clock in the morning. But he quickly understands what I meant.

And then, I wait.

And wait.

Whilst it was cold this morning (like, 23 degrees cold), it is now warming up. Headed close to the high of eighty degrees they promised us. And I'm still wearing my thermals.

Still no business. I check the clock. It's 15:56.

Next thing I know, I'm looking at a smiling hunter, his vehicle just coming to a stop outside my open window. My first response to his question was certainly less than coherent, and he had to repeat it.

We visit some, the usual banter about where the deer are, how everyone else is doing.

As he pulls away, he shouts out his window, "Guess you can go back to another nap."

Craaap.

I check the clock. 16:10. I couldn't have really been asleep for those few minutes, could I?

Yeah, I could.

And got caught, too.