Okay, so it was partly my fault. Having run the strutting ground route in the desert yesterday morning (with a record high count), today was scheduled for the route in the dunes.

And I overslept. (Blame Sin City late last night. Not as good as youngest son claimed.) Not a lot late, maybe 15 minutes. But when your survey window is only 105 minutes or so wide, losing 15 makes a difference. So, while I'm normally racing from lek #1 to lek #2 when the sun pops over the horizon, today I was still a few miles from #1 when the GPS said the sun was up.

Me, I couldn't tell, what with all the clouds in the east. Which is a good thing, because grouse tend to stay active and strut later on cloudy days.

Clouds tend to keep the eagles grounded. No thermals to soar in.

But we had wind this morning, too. Don't need thermals if you've got wind.

So I wrap up the three counts of lek #1 about as quick as possible, then bail off the side of a stabilized dune on the shortcut to #2. Through the oil field, along the powerline, past the old shed and lone tree, across the dike for the pond, a right turn onto the narrow two-track, up over the steep cattleguard, and I'm there.

The grouse aren't.

There's a meadow there that should be full of strutting grouse.

It's not. Not a one. Been flushed, I assume. As I watch, a dark shape swoops low over the lek site, no more than a couple meters above the ground.

G-d m-f eagle. Now my route is screwed, and I'll have to come back tomorrow morning. Today is just a waste. Waste of time, waste of gas. Waste of sleep.

Grab the binocs, and then I see them. The black heads and white breasts peeking out of the sage, scattered for a couple hundred meters north and east of the meadow. Grouse, waiting for the avian threat to go away. Which it does. As I jot down my notes, I hear the strong wing beats.

They're coming back.

Within minutes, there's 18 cocks out on the meadow, doing their thing. Wait a few more minutes, and I may be able to finish my route after all. I wait.

All of a sudden, all the birds on the meadows hunker down close to the ground.

Ohh, chit. And there it is, sneaking back in from the south.

G-d m-f eagle.

The grouse immediately explode off the lek, and I know they're not coming back. Especially when they circle round under the eagle, and fly south across the next hill.

The route is ruined. At least for today. Craaaap.

G-d m-f eagle.

In order to salvage part of the morning, and not waste the lost sleep, I tear northwest through the dunes and manage to check a couple other strutting grounds, not part of the route, that I haven't been to yet this spring.

And we'll try again, tomorrow.