It was colder than we expected. One fellow, who traveled the farthest and very nearly crossed the entire state, didn't even bring a jacket. But at 8,000+ feet, there was still plenty of snow laying around.

Our host said he had to break through a snowdrift to get to the cabin four days ago. And here, to the west where all was green,

there was only brown four days before.

Still, a pleasant place for a gathering. If you could ignore the border collie pestering you to throw a half tennis ball.

The pair of sandhills cranes and 11 moose were nice to watch.

I think eventually 14 of us there. Only one female. Every level from me and my compadres up to the highest boss (probably at the last field trip of his tenure) and his highest civilian bosses. Plus the non-outfit folks.

All with one common interest: bighorn sheep.

I unfortunately got the bad news almost as soon as I arrived. We won't be getting any sheep from that other state to supplement my evaporating herd.

Politics, not biology. In their state, not ours.

Funny. A biologist in that state mentioned they are not even allowed to speak to their civilian bosses. And here we are having steak, beer and whiskey with ours.

After the thick steak dinner, the firepit was lit in back. Usually just for dampening the mosquitoes, but this year it served as a source of warmth as well.

The lone gal came up and asked me if the outfit was issuing a new emblem?

Not that I know of. So she showed me the grill decoration added unknowingly to a fellow biologist's truck.

He didn't even know it was there. Traveled well over a hundred miles.

He was tempted to leave it in, but we convinced him some small boy might be pretty disappointed if his dinosaur didn't make it home.

Bed in the truck finally came after eleven. With the patio conversations and porch light not going out until well after midnight.