Shouldering our packs for the long hike back to the trailhead, I took one last look at the high country above our spike camp in the Lee Metcalf. I wanted nothing more than to stay in the wilderness for another couple of days, roaming the grassy southern slopes and timbered draws in search of a mature bull elk.
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Hoping to glass up another opening day bull.
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Expectations pulled us back down the mountain. Loved ones were waiting at home and emails demanded a response Monday morning.
Just five weekends remain. Ten days afield, maybe eleven or twelve if you're lucky - a strategically planned sick day here, a post-Thanksgiving Day hall pass there. It's a short season, make the most of it.
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