This morning was the third running of the standard lek route for the sand dune country. Roused the heeler sisters and hit the road by 05:26. Truck thermometer said 33 degrees.

Dawn was just beaking as we turned off the highway.

And still hanging in the sky as I counted the first strutting ground.

With a total of 28 cocks. The sun arose as we raced towards the second lek on the route.

Which only had one cock on it. Standing alone in the middle of the meadow. Two minutes later, as I finished writing my notes and cursing whatever eagle had risen early to screw up my count, route and the entire morning, I looked again.

And saw nine cocks out there strutting. Five minutes later there were 13. Some flying noisily in from the east, others walking on silently. Whether they had been flushed and were coming back, or if we had gotten to work earlier than they this morning, I do not know. But cocks kept coming in from the taller sage.

By the time I drove off, happily continuing my route, there were 34 cocks out on the meadow, strutting away. The highest count on this lek yet this year.

We raced the clock through the other leks and the heeler sisters didn't get a break until the gate just before lek number six.

Which had an incredible 106 cocks out strutting in their basin. And the lighting was perfect, with clouds covering the sun to keep the birds active.

Total for the route: 228 cocks. Compared to 200 for a high last year.

With the cloudy skies, birds were active late, so we raced southeast, soon riding the bumper of the second of two crew trucks heading out to a pipeline job. Followed them for miles, but the drivers never noticed until they turned off on their line. Nothing like having a game warden truck silently follow you in to work to keep people honest.

Had two more leks I was hoping to check. The first was discovered about three decades ago by our pilot, when he and his brother got stuck overnight in the spring mud. Typical high school hijinks in the country I assume, but they got to listen to strutting grouse all night.

Five birds on that lek this morning, which is a lot for that lek, and a few scattered in the sage to the east. Then a quick haul to the second, just over a mile further east.

No birds. Just the feathered remains where some grouse became someone else's breakfast.

But on the way out, I was surprised to see 24 grouse flying by the first lek. Or more accurately, to the first lek.

Now, a flock of male sage grouse flying in the morning is suspicious. So we headed around the sandy hill, to the north side where these birds had come from.

And found 28 more. Happily strutting on a meadow and hillside that they may have been using for many years, just out of sight of the road I use to check the other two leks (Which have been fading away in number... now I know why.).

I park on the meadow portion of where the birds are strutting, without flushing a one, and can see lots and lots of scat out the window. They've been using this regularly.

A new lek. Or a newly mapped one, that is.

If I get it mapped. Got GPS coordinates where I am, but need coordinates of the bare spot up the slope where at least half the grouse are strutting.

Which means we gotta wait for them to quit.

Twenty-seven minutes and seventy-nine photographs later, including one good bout of head-to-tail wing boxing,

the last of the birds finally fly off to the west, leaving me to wander up and get my reading.

And then home.