It looks like this

is as close as we're going to get to the Honeycombs this spring. Which means probably all year, as well.

Sad, when you consider how much they may change in the near future with the impending gas development.

I had worried about the roads this morning. After three days of rain and snow, I wasn't sure we would even be able to get into that part of the desert. And since it is so late in the strutting season, I wasn't sure it would even be worth the effort.

And after three mornings of sleeping in, getting up at three-thirty and on the road by 04:01 was truly an effort.

Well, the roads were okay. Lots of puddles to dodge around, and a few ruts that others had put into some freshly bladed roads that were a mess, but otherwise an uneventful drive.

Not a waste of time, either. Of the four strutting grounds I hoped to check, we found grouse strutting on all four. For a grand total of 261 cocks and three hens.

It may be late in the strut, but the strut is not over.

But, as I feared, the crossing at Red Creek was still muddy. I know I could have splashed and spun our way through it, but then what? The clay buttes of the 'combs would have been just as muddy. Besides leaving ruts and deep footprints everywhere we went, it also would have been no fun.

Not to mention the unpleasant thought of having two heelers with thickly caked red and green mud on their feet and bellies.

So, we turned northwest instead, meandering slowly over sandier roads, listening to plovers calling for mates. And when the gas tank said we were half empty, which was only a couple miles, it was time to go home.