I grew up in the Missouri Breaks in the late 50's to the late 60's. Some folks never get over their first love. I sure didn't.
It was one of those September weeks when the nights get cold enough for a good sleeping bag and the no-see-ums tormented your ear tips in the afternoon. The sun stood high overhead and I was pondering a nap. I hadn't slept well the night before, but it had nothing to do with the temperature. It was those pesky bulls bugling all night.
Rocky Mountain Elk Foundation Bugle
