As soon as I got a permit in my pocket, I headed up country to hunt.
I set my camp high up in the timber near a favorite spot. Since I got the camp set up late I just made an evening of it with plans to start the calling adventure the next day.
The storms I'd encountered on the trip out weren't done with me yet. As a matter of fact, the entire first week was one of sudden rain, often turning to snow. Temperatures were in the low thirties at night, warming to 45 degrees at mid day.
Groovy!!! (that means it sucked big time!)
The first morning in camp I awoke to 4 inches of the white stuff on everything and there was a lot more on the ground "up the mountain".
I decided that from that point on I would lean on alternative camping strategies.... motels.
The mountains were taking a toll on this old fat man and I didn't feel a need to fight the mountains at night when I should be resting.