Pilot called this afternoon.

We're flying a trend count of one of my antelope herds. One of the wardens is counting the southern half, I get the north.

Pilot called to inform me they're done with the southern half. Starting around sunrise tomorrow, it's my turn.

Oh, joy.

This isn't like flying for collared elk. We fly north-south transects, about two-thirds of a mile apart, doing our best to cover the entire area.

Counting antelope, of course, as we go.

Actually tends to be a little more nauseating than other wildlife work. About the only time you get to pull your eyes off the ground whizzing by is at the end of each transect. And even then, you're banking steeply to get lined up on the next line.

On and on, for three, three-and-a-half hours, with no break.

Not even for throwing up.

Now, in the past, I've tracked along on a map, marking each group of pronghorn down on the paper as we pass. Tends to increase the nausea, since your focus is constantly changing from the ground to your lap, and back out to the ground. Warden decided to try using his GPS to record locations, and a tape recorder to record animal numbers.

Hence no need to ever look inside the plane. And more precise data, to boot.

So, I asked the pilot how it went.

It didn't. GPS couldn't get enough satellite signals in the back seat of the plane.

So, for me, starting at six o'clock tomorrow, it's back to map and pen.

Oh, joy.

I spent the rest of the afternoon doing kindergarten work, cutting and taping three maps together. Guess I'm ready.

Another shot from Monday's elk flight.

With the early morning sun just grazing them, the budding aspen are almost as pretty as they are in the fall.