All assembles on opening day eve, to discuss who, what and where the crew will disperse to, to chase down the mules that survived the winter.
A most wonderful beast loaf was constructed, with onions, soysauce and other unknown additives to make it somewhat palatable.
Off the gang goes, most up the hill, others almost to the barrel, one not even close! 😉 The gang marches up the hill to drive 50,000 square miles of woods to two watchers, awaiting at the bottom. Super secret frequencies were used to convey tactical information from the low crew to the high crew, much useful information was shared! Now all excited, the drive begins…almost.
BUSHWHACKED FROM BEHIND!
As the high crew wraps up the final plan, from the ridge behind them out of the blue and the back country voices are heard! Who could this be? In thirty years of chasing mules, not once was anyone ever encountered here, not even certain members of the gang. Upon interrogation, it was learned that these three inappropriately dressed hikers (no red, orange or even packs) were looking for a specific “summit”. This summit was actually a watch where the Leaddog took a 350lb plus bear a while back, and no view is near it…not even close. Two of the three appeared to be from the land north of the contiguous United States, and with them they brought the attitude and associated stench as well. It looked as if they swam across swamps, bogs, up cliffs and down them…how dare we, who’ve been here for over thirty years get in their way of bagging the 3000′ foot “peak”. Pierre and Antoinette, led by “BoB” who clearly was not from the land o’ the north, informed the gun laden crew that this was their objective. Cold, Dark, Blank stares between the crew wasn’t even noticed as Pierre voiced that “he must go to the peak”….peak at my ass you intervening smelly douche. (Note the vitriole) With that, the three says it’ll take just fifteen minutes to bag the “peak”, and scooch to yet another destination, led by Pierre who conveyed to the crew, and was told that was probably not the best way to go – up a cliff, down another, through two swamps that they didn’t know about and up the cliff to another 3000′ ft “peak”, but salutations were given and off they went, directly in the direction where the drive were to start. Chuckles were heard amongst the crew….I hope their stuck in the swamps.
Back to the hunt-
The gang does their best after being date raped, two mules are pushed off the top, Leaddog finds a new giant rubs, scrapes and Digger and Toucher at the bottom of the hill. All returns to camp for a soysauce limited dinner of mule steaks and trimmings.
RAIN WIND RAIN WIND……FA! See you all on Friday for the first FAMHC.