Battle was joined well before dawn.

I know. I was there.

I've seen this plenty of times before. The steep mountains standing like the Wall of China, keeping out an invading horde from the north. Only here, the invader is a dense, cold, arctic air mass. The mountains the only line of defense for our basin to the south, filled with a comfortable air mass. Sitting right at 27 degrees this morning when I arrived at the first lek.

All through the morning's route I could look to the north and see the same thing. Waves of cold, whitened air surging over the top of the dark mountains, flowing down the valleys on the southern side. Sweeping around the Stegosaurus plates of limestone to charge at the sage covered dunes below.

Only to evaporate away, unreinforced. And then another wave would make the charge.

Only around the ends of the mountain range does the cold, northern air win. Rolling over ridges more than a thousand feet lower than the peaks, the cloud mass spreads out in a fan over the warmer earth. My last strutting ground of the morning, the grouse were strutting in sunshine, but the dune behind them was blanketed in fog.

Last year, in this same spot, in a similar battle, the clouds rolled in with snow, and covered the birds before I could finish my count. Today, though, I managed all three counts of the final lek in sunshine. The ominous clouds hovering less than a quarter-mile away.

Found the secret to thwarting eagles, too. Two secrets, actually.

First, get there damn early. Was leaving for the fourth lek of the morning before the sun popped up over the clouds.

Second, pick a cold, cloudy, damp morning. Looks like the eagles stayed in bed today. 'Course the grouse count was way down, too, with a lot of the cocks quitting right after sunup. Either they're strutting all night, or they want to fill their bellies before the cold and snow hits.

Because that's what's supposed to happen. As hard as the mountains were fighting back when I headed back to town,

they are still supposed to lose. Weather folks say snow and rain most of the day, with maybe six inches of the white by tomorrow morning.

Good news is, they canceled the burn planning and browse clipping tour on the elk killing grounds that was supposed to start at ten o'clock.

Nobody wants to be down on their knees, clipping individual grass blades left over from last summer, in a blizzard.