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The ruts of the Old Deadwood Trail are still visible through the wind-blown snow as they climb a hill on their way to Deadwood, still a hundred miles away.
to the left is a thickly wooded area through which pine creek trickles, and in which the elk were noisily rutting. the war cries of a bull elk sound like a cross between a raptor and a walrus. you can - if you're brave and/or stupid enough - call back to them, which i did, then decided to yield the rutway when the calls got closer and more furious-sounding. the joys of communing with nature eh.
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During the rut the males grunt and groan and kick the dust to show their manliness. Kind of like the human population...... It attracts the girls and scares away the competition.
In case it wasn't apparent, all of the measurements are pretty approximate. I cut the cuff from the same place I usually do on my big old chunk of white felt, and had this feeling that it was going to be close. I like to have about a half inch hanging off one side or the sock or the other, and I'm about an inch short from where I'd like this to be when I line it up.
Since I suspected this moment might be coming, I have a plan!