A long day for the start of elk seasons. On the road an hour and a half before sunrise, home almost an hour and a half after sunset.

Around milepost 27, my right shoulder and thigh suddenly felt cold. Hadn't been cold at all when I left.

Truck says it's only 36 degrees.

At milepost 29 it was 34 degrees.

Thirty-two degrees at MP 31. Then 30 degrees, then 29 at the junction at milepost 33.

Brrrr.

Climbed the Continental Divide between MP 34 and MP 35. Just a bump of a hill, would barely be noticed anyplace except Nebraska or Kansas.

In that half-mile, we rose up to 38 degrees. At 43 in another mile.

A good lesson in the settling of cold air masses in desert basins. And people wonder why some antelope winter ranges are higher than their summer range.

Checked my first hunter, still in camp, at 6:35 AM.

Checked my last hunter, just arrived in camp, at 6:23 PM.

And only one elk.

Otherwise, a day of driving slowly over rocks, hiking up into wilderness, checking an exclosure, and taking pictures of mediocre fall colours.