On Day 3 of my latest trip to Colorado National Monument, I set out again to try and find the lambs that I had spotted on my first hike. On Day 2, I went south but had no luck and the only other plausible direction (in my opinion at least) was that they could have traveled east instead. By now, though, they could be practically anywhere. According to literature I've read on newborn bighorn lambs, they are capable of keeping up with the herd within a week -- even in very steep terrain.

On this morning, I again set out early and hiked quietly up an adjacent canyon. I could see lots of evidence of bighorn and pretty quickly I spotted two ewes. I waited, listened and eventually decided that this was probably just two ewes that were not the group I was searching for. I was wrong about that, but it would take a while for the others to emerge. I continued on into the canyon, but I hiked very slowly -- listening for some of the tale-tell signs that the herd was near. Silence was only broken by a few songbirds, a light breeze and a couple deer that were passing through.

Eventually, I looked back down the canyon and could see a few more ewes where I had passed through earlier. I decided to go back and wait to see if this may have actually been the larger group that I was trying to locate. I planted myself in a spot that seemed good for potentially intersecting the ewes, and I was right on the money. Perhaps I had chosen too good of a spot, because one of the ewes just could not muster up the courage to go around or right past me. I decided to yield and get out of her way, because it was so clear that she wanted to walk a very specific route. In retrospect, I wish that I hadn't moved away so far because little-did-I-know that several lambs were just behind her. Perhaps that's why she was nervous about my presence.

I turned my attention to a few ewes that already hiked a little higher up the cliffs. One was making a call, and to my surprise three lambs came out behind a rock even higher up the cliffs. They had stashed the lambs, and they all came running out to meet their mothers. I began taking photos of this group of ~8 up the cliff, but I had no idea that the rest of them were coming up right behind me. I missed a fantastically close opportunity when they appeared ~20 feet away to my right. When I noticed them, I moved a bit too quickly from the excitement and they were all shocked to see a person there. They quickly sprang up the cliffs to join their aunts and cousins.

By this time, the sun was getting high in the sky and it made for challenging conditions with heat waves, bright contrasts and ugly shadows. My options were to take crappy long distance shots, try to move closer, wait to see if they might come to me and/or wait several hours until the light got better. I decided to slowly re-position myself as best I could, hopefully without spooking the group. Four ewes had taken a seat only 60ft away from me, but the majority of the group was much higher. Most of them didn't seem nervous, but it was clear that their motherly instincts had many of them slightly on guard.

The clock was ticking as the sun rose overhead. The backdrop wasn't ideal, but that just comes with wildlife photography. You often have to take what you can get, and I was stoked to find this group with so many lambs. That said, I knew the photos weren't going to be the best because of all the factors that detracted from a more ideal setting. I slowly climbed up some rocks and everyone remain seated thankfully. I knew that I couldn't press my luck much further, so I snapped a handful of decently close shots and then returned back down the cliffs in short order. It was rewarding to find them, see them, and get a few photos, but I'll have to keep trying for better images of a bunch of cute lambs.