Ike and Echo romped into the mist, as we climbed up the big mountain on the old road. Huckleberry and currant and other grouse food grew thick and abundant while young stands of aspen promised cover. Tim ran his young setter, Maisy, and we walked while the dogs charged into fog. We climbed for an hour, lamenting the rain that likely kept the grouse up in the trees away from the dog pack. After an hour of climbing, we turned around and descended by another route. No grouse, but the dogs worked hard and worked well together. Maisy learned from watching my veterans, Ike, 9, and Echo, 4.