In that camaraderie that still exists among pilots, my pilot, as we taxied out to the runway, asked the pilot who had just announced his approach to the same airport what the clouds looked like to the south.

Clear for twenty miles, but the mountains were socked in pretty good.

Oookay. That's half good news. So we took off.

Hope to have an entry just from this flight (like that ever really happens when I skip an entry), but do want to post this shot.

That's the flank of Battle Mountain on our left. The hills beyond are Colorado.

Found eight radio-collared elk easy enough, but clouds blocked us from reaching the ninth. When the clouds are walking on the ground, and some of the ground rises up to 11,000 feet, you're usually wise to go around the clouds, not through.

Problem was, there was no "around". Nor "over", either.

But the pilot thought, if we flew down the drainage we were in, below the clouds, and then flew up the river bottom where that cow elk has been hanging around for the past three weeks, we might be able to find her. And stay below the clouds in the process.

Which is a fine thing, provided the clouds stay where they're supposed to, and don't settle down even lower when you're flying up the valley.

So, that's where we are at that picture. Banking around the shoulder of Battle, getting ready to head up the river valley between it and those Colorado hills, towards where we hope to find elk number 9.