Almost found myself on the wrong side of the law yesterday. Finally, FINALLY, I found a bunch of rams, of which two looked decent (as far as one can tell in looking through a 45X scope in a 60 mph wind). I climbed all the way back down to the valley bottom, and started up a trail, when something didn't feel right. The trail looked to go just a tad different than I had imagined. So I brought out the map, and after a bit of deliberation had to concede that the tiny patch of brown grass the rams were on was actually inside the park. A little quiver in the chartographer's pen had decided that their lives were safe... for now.

If tonight's snow has driven them down to the lusher pastures where I found the ewes, there might still be an interaction between one of them and my bullet. Tomorrow will tell.

Frans (the wind was as forcefull as I've ever experienced. It blew me off balance several times. In fact it kept me from hiking a ridge to take a closer look at the ewes. I'm not sure I've ever looked at wind drift data for my caliber for these types of winds.)

It's seems always that way. The object of ones obsession is just across an imaginary boundry. Sometimes I swear the sheep have a copy of boundaries and are looking at you laughing