The country backroads presented one beautiful view after another.
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As I neared the new spot, I passed several dried creeks and realized it's quite a bit more arid than where I was before. Near sunset I arrived at the dead end of a faint hint of a road overlooking the promising slope I'd glassed from afar.
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Here was the view I had come for, a craggy mountainside draped in mountain mahogany.
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I picked it apart with my spotting scope and binos all evening, but I didn't see a single deer, elk, or moose. For the morning, I moved a short distance to glass another promising area from a position where light from the east would work in my favor.
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I also saw a few deer, pretty far in the distance in the views below, but none were obviously bucks:
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As in many places I hunted, there were more elk than deer, or at least they were more visible:
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I'm very new to such dry country, and I learned an important lesson: watch where you kneel and sit. Good thing I had tweezers.
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