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blizzard warnings - 13:52 , 03 October 2013

heelerless - 21:32 , 18 August 2013

Red Coat Inn in Fort McLeod - 11:38 , 23 June 2013

rushing into the waters - 09:53 , 21 June 2013

choosing a spot - 17:43 , 27 April 2013

25 February 2007 - 23:24

stalking elk

My knee hurts.

We got most the cactus stickers out, but there are some pointed, pale red remnants that are apparently just going to have to stay in until they fester.

Oh, joy.

So, how does one get cactus stickers in one's knee in February?

By stalking up on a herd of 113 elk out in the cactus and yucca, that's how.

And why is one stalking elk in February, one might ask?

Why, all the better to see them, you see.

While we are in the process, to be culminated tomorrow in Regional Town, of recommending hunting seasons and harvests for this fall, we are also still collecting the last of the data needed to make the best recommendations.

Like classifying elk.

The warden for this herd and I have been waiting for snow, the better to track and see elk.

And haven't gotten any. Other than the smidgeon of white stuff Friday night. So, this afternoon, the heeler sisters and I headed out to see what we could do without deep, fresh snow.

And while we were out there, gather the two wing barrels I left up for the blue grouse season.

Since that ended at the end of November, it seemed like time to get that done. Even if it did mean having to jack out posts that were frozen into the ground.

Deer were up, stuffing their faces. A few bucks had shed their antlers, a few had not, and some were in between.

Even without deep snow, the elk weren't that hard to find. They were in the first spot I looked.

But from the truck, I could only see forty-some elk, with more calves than cows (a rarity with elk). I suspected there were more down in the draw.

I'm going on a hike.

Not a hard stalk. Down one draw, up another, crawl across an exposed saddle and down the next draw. But that left me having to cross a large snowbank, fully exposed to the view of at least half the elk, now bedded on their hillside.

Naught to do but try. Flat on my belly on the hard, wind-scalloped snow, and pull with my elbows. Glide a short distance and wait, see if the elk noticed.

Then repeat. Maybe 15, 20 times.

Halfway across, staring sideways at the elk across the scooped snow, I thought "This would make a cool picture."

And realized I'd left the camera in the truck.

Craaaap.

And then I realized my belt buckle was scouring out the hard snow, and scooping it down my jeans.

And all of a sudden the absence of a camera was less important.

But I made it across the snowbank undetected, and then had a similar crawl up to the crest of the ridge, through yucca and cactus.

Hence the spines in my knee.

Still hard to classify the elk, even though I'd cut the distance by more than half. Just too windy to hold the spotting scope steady. But after some time, the snow thawing in my pants and through my thermals, I got what I needed.

113 elk. Fifty-seven cows, 42 calves, two small bulls, and a dozen spikes. Double and triple checked my numbers, and then that was that. Back to the truck I went.

Walking this time, not crawling. And the elk didn't care.

Then it was down the mountain, and further into the winter range on the flats. Lots of deer, but no more elk.

Soon dusk swept over the hills, and it was time to go home.

After a couple dragraces.

Listening to: JR.

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