Forty-nine point six, to be exact.

Almost 50 miles on a snowmachine. And that's cross-country miles, mind you. Almost none of it on any road or groomed trail. Scooting slowly, and flying rapidly, over sage brush and snow crusted rocks.

Been almost two years since I'd been on one of those machines. And here I spend half the day either standing astraddle one, kneeling to lean one way or the other, or lifting and tugging the monster out of ditches, creeks and brush.

My thighs ache. My shoulders ache. My left elbow aches.

And yeah, the right wrist is stiff, too. Thanks for askin'.

Today we had snow. We're worried, of course, that there may be enough to push the 1,000+ elk back down on the lichen fields, and all of yesterday's work will have been for nothing.