The morning's flight went well.

Unless, of course, you count the pilot forgetting the radio receiver for listening to (and finding) the elk collars.

But hey, I remembered to ask about it before we left the tarmac, so all was good.

Unless, of course, you count both of us forgetting the clipboard with our data sheet.

But hey, it was right next to the radio receiver, so all was good.

Unless, of course, you count my GPS beeping feebly when we were at the far end of Runway 22, waiting to take off. Letting us know the batteries were almost dead. Not much point in flying if you're not going to get any locations to write down once you find your elk.

So, yeah, we taxied all the way down the runway to the tarmac again, so I could jump out and get spare batteries from the truck.

But hey, they were right next to the spare camera batteries that I forgot to take in the plane. So that was good. And the pilot took that time to wash off the bug-streaked windshield. (Bugs don't splatter at 165 mph. They just hit and immediately turn into long skinny streaks clear to the top of the windshield).

So that was good, too.

Not to mention, the GPS could have waited until we were airborne to die.

So that was good, too.

And so, twenty minutes after we told the gal at dispatch that we were ready to take off, we finally took off.

And despite my best efforts to jinx myself yesterday, I managed the entire flight without throwing up.

My record is intact. As is our record for finding all 10 collars. Although, they're starting to move around some. No big changes, but just about everybody was a little someplace else today. The country has dried out a lot in the past two weeks, and these elk have started to wander, looking for the shrinking green places to feed.

And yes, I spotted several aspen.

Yellow aspen.

Fall is almost here.