For almost a week we've been laying out bait lines of hay. Hoping the elk will find them, and follow the alfalfa down off the lichen-rich bare ridges.

They've sampled the hay a time or two, but never dug in. Never followed the flakes of hay. Today we found all the hay of one bait line eaten, and over a hundred elk bedded on the ridge above. Apparently waiting for more.

There is hope.

So, we rebaited that line, and then extended it farther south and west, trying to connect them to another, unused line.

That's the good news.

Bad news is, we found ten more elk down with lichen poisoning.

More good news: the elk are "staging". Gathering into larger herds in preparation of the spring migration. They're late this year, but there really is no place for them to move to yet.

Just too much snow.

Bad news: Our activities, of necessity, spooked the elk away from the bait line they were using all night. Maybe they'll come back and follow a little farther, and maybe they won't.

Good news: As we hauled our six bales of alfalfa in on snowmachines (Have I mentioned I've spent more time on snowmachines during the past month than all the previous 30 years? Or that I frostbit my face? (Mildly))... through a prairie dog town this morning, we were closely passed over by a...

Ferruginous hawk.

In this high desert country, ferrugs are the true harbingers of Spring.

It can't come soon enough this year.

Elk filing away from us and our noisy machines. And gunshots.

Butcher's bill: 47.