Sagebrush and grasses, our constant companions. I can still taste the scent of sage that permeated our ride across the plain.
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Rolling across the undulating Catlow Plain, 50 miles of gravel, grass, and sagebrush.
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We are now in Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge, but the road looks no different, gravel, grass, and sagebrush.
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Flags on the bikes, a gift from Mr., Jenkins at the Jenkins Family Museum and Round Barn on the 4th of July.
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Sunrise on the Catlow Plain.
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The glorious moment the sun peeked over the horizon.
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“It’s the first time we’ve seen grass in five years.” This was an extremely rainy year and the high desert we expected was a lush long lawn.
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Hart Mountain from inside the refuge.
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Marty in front of the headquarters as we prepare to leave the Refuge.
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