Pikas liven up the slopes of Mt. Washburn with their kazoo-like calls.

It was finally time to tackle Mt. Washburn. I usually like to start the hike at 6am, so I told everyone we were getting up at 5. I woke 'em up at 4:45.

The sun had already risen above the mountains by the time we started. It appeared we'd have some nice weather... no fog, hail or high winds as I've encountered in years past, and thanks to the early start, we wouldn't have to deal with any heat until the trip down.

The hike began at a slow, measured pace. I was toting my big lens in a backpack, the big heavy tripod carried over my shoulder, so I certainly wasn't in a rush. I think the rest of the group was still half asleep. We encountered a female grouse, which scurried off the trail quickly, but otherwise didn't see much in the way of wildlife. The bear spray would thankfully go unused again. During one of our water breaks, someone spotted a sheep way up on the trail. We resumed the hike in "hot pursuit" (we were panting and hot... and trudging up the hill in pursuit). The sheep, a female still in the midst of losing her winter coat, eyed us warily but stayed close to the trail as she moved uphill. The encounter at least justified the early wake-up call for everyone, if not the hike itself.

Onward and upward. I spotted a group of sheep in the shady, rocky ledges beneath Washburn's summit. They were too far off the trail for photos. I quietly hoped they'd come out into the sun by the time we were ready to descend.

The rest of the ascent was quiet... even the smaller wildlife was absent. We made it to the summit and hurried inside the warm ranger station, collapsing on the benches with a breakfast of apples and granola bars. While we snacked, a few peeks out the windows allowed us to finally spy a few of Washburn's smaller residents.

These cute bighorn sheep youngsters came within feet of us.

Chipmunks, golden-mantled squirrels and pikas peeked out from the red and gray rocks stacked at the summit. The pikas called back and forth with short, reedy kazoo cries.

On our way back down, I dallied a bit, wanting some photos of the rodents. Our "second carload" once again didn't want to wait around. They tromped down the mountain, expecting us to follow behind quickly. Typically, they missed the most exciting part of the hike.

Already far below us on the trail, they luckily spotted the bighorns that had come out from behind the mountain and took a few pictures before continuing toward the parking lot. These are the same bighorns that were working their way up the mountain... right toward the rest of us. Obviously, we weren't in a hurry to leave. I snapped away as the sheep approached and after a while we were sitting on the edge of the trail just watching. At one point we were surrounded and couldn't move, as a couple of the adults walked behind us over the trail and the rest were right below us. The highlight was the pair of lambs. Already old enough to hop and skip around the mountain, they were still cute enough to make one go, "aaaaawwww!"

Bighorns patrol the slopes of Washburn and don't seem to mind the tourists.

The youngsters walked onto the trail and entertained themselves by rubbing, butting, scratching, kicking and nibbling on the orange trail markers.

We sat there for well over an hour, and the whole time the sheep didn't mind us one bit. Every day, another great encounter (and every day, our other carload was missing it).

We did leave eventually, and got down to the car safely (at one point having to leave the trail to skirt a lone bison). The rest of the day was intended for more recovery and low key exploration. We visited a number of the thermals and geyser basins on the way to Old Faithful, where we had a late late dinner at the Inn. This looooong, fun day finally came to an end.