Yup, Wednesday! A retry of last years Great Alaskan Adventure is underway since little snow is on the ground and none forecasted! Select members of the gang decides to hunt a few days prior to the normal Friday gathering. Toucher and Leaddog arrives to a once again balmy 6 degree morning to find where the mules are, or not. After warming up the camp, a decision to hunt a local hill is in order. Both trod to the “lowlands” and hunts up the hill showing the Toucher new and mystical lands and hills not known to him before – where they find areas of feeding mules based on last weeks observation of beech and acorns in the target area. Beds, scrapes and rubs are also seen, exciting the duo as they roam the woods. Early in the hunt, a doe is seen slowly exiting the area, and a bit later one is pushed right to Toucher, who had his Super Secret Scent Sauce on, 10 steps away it was….both inform the arriving crew later of where the gang should hunt on Thursday.

Nope – not today! The decision to wait to extract a mule from the re-conned area is put on hold until ALL of the crew is in camp. A hunt up the creek and back on the other side is tabled. Watchers run to their spots as the drivers gather at their starting points. The drive is performed with precision, but no mules are present in this area. Tracks are seen, a few scrapes here and there, but we know where they are hiding!

Back to the area of interest. Since it was determined that the Toucher hasn’t bagged a mule in some time, he’s now allowed to be a watcher. He takes command of Leaddog’s watch, where two mules have been taken prior. All as usual scrambles about to get in place to start the drive, when at a few minutes before noon, two shots are heard from the notch in the area of the watchers, with an announcement “this is how we do it!” by the Toucher. Digger on the high watch sees two mules sneak between the Toucher and him, one confirmed flattop and the other unknown. As you may figure out at this point, the unknown was a heavy beamed six weighing in at 150lbs! The drive continues, nothing else with horns is pushed to anyone. Finally – the pressure is off the gang! Most gets their maintenance CHU’s for the Friday Afternoon Men’s Hiking Club requirements.

Now that the Toucher has regained his driver status, which by the way was one of the shortest stints as a watcher by anyone, a recon of a local ingress route with an associated drive back to camp was agreed upon. The precipitation event of Halloween has washed out the road in several places, where repairs are unlikely for some time to come. This will keep some of the riff-raff out of the area, but a few hardy souls persist in their chase as evidenced by their two mile slogprints in the snow. No antlered topped beasts are seen in this area as well. Th gang returns to a most wonderful mule steak feast!

A retrace of the killzone results in does being pushed about, Beds’n Tracks, Beds’n tracks, Beds’n Tracks…..apparently the “vacancy sign” is still up! Hopefully this will change by the weekend.


Leaddog has the woods to himself, due to sad events in the flatland. After warming the camp, a recon walk ’round one of the mountains is in order – which was just that. Mule tracks were seen, some old, some new – no makers of said tracks presented themselves during the five mile trek. A fresh coating of snow assisted in showing the Leaddog which way they were traveling, in the opposite direction of his travel – as always.

With a almost full compliment of Polecat’s Rangers sans Digger and Probie, a hunt up the valley and a return on the other side results in a few does and flags observed, with some sign observed. Dr. Pork and his trusty sidekick Wallyhood (with his crossbow) makes their yearly appearance, and gets on watch at the end. No mules are pushed to anyone….why do we do this again?

Since nothing of value was observed over the past two days, a new location was chosen to hunt. Leaddog takes the high route on top due to Digger having the Hong-Kong flu and staying home to recuperate. Immediately, mules are found and pushed! Off the top past Polecat to Robba, something of size crashed its way down hill. Other flags and does are seen scrambling about, two Rangers have actual visits by does who wanted to sit on watch with them ! 😉 Food is in abundance in this portion of the happy hunting grounds, beech and oak offers a feast – and the gang will give a little “attention” to this area.

Coming later this week, another attempt at the Alaskan extended five day stay to roam to places where we shouldn’t be! Hopefully the warmy-changy snow event of last year will hold off, at least until we’re at the farthest point from camp – as always!

Tobias Wife passed

Well guys
Tobias wife passed last night. He is one of the few original members of F Troop left going back to 1968. Our sincere sympathy goes out to Tom and his family.
I knew Shirl from about 1966 when Tom went into the Marine Corps. She waited for him to come home from Nam as we all knew he would.
Dont know what more to say except God Bless.


Toucher and Leaddog battles high winds and flooding waters as they make ingress to the happy hunting grounds. The lake below is flooded and the road washed out to the point where trucks are the only method to get into camp. The dam is at capacity, with it’s owner placing fill to create a berm to handle further flooding. Leaddog finds the Toucher doing driveway duty, and soon joins him in alleviating erosion at work. Ruts and washouts are present, only 4×4’s can make it up the hill. After a few hours of playing roadcrew, both attempt to at least hunt somewhat, and investigate what’s present in the area, only to discover that cable two has been compromised – no ladders to access the crossing as they’ve been wiped out by the waters from the warmy-changy event. A substitute is found, and both make their way to roam the area. Nothing is observed, except for washouts and much stream reconfiguration by nature. Overall 7″ of rain has fallen directly over the local area resulting in a watery mayhem. The remainder of the gang shows up, some stay in the flatland to tend to generators since power was out region wide – and of course at camp. The new camp generator proves invaluable, as it powers everything required to continue the gangs pursuit of happiness.

The gang decides to make a hunt, and clean up and repair the driveway on Sunday. All hunt rather close to camp, but not one mule is seen. Perhaps we need to get vessels and float Piseco Lake and look for swimming mules, and our ladders! All returns back early, and the road repair continues for a few hours. It is decided that Sunday will be devoted to the road, since it’ll be snowing in the very near future. Denmama goes home and retrieves his backhoe and 16′ dump trailer to assist in the repairs, thank God! A mule stake and fish chowder feast is consumed, with copious amounts of adult beverages as usual.

Roadmonkeys* to work! All rise to a nice day, which would have normally been devoted to chasing mules where they’re usually are not present. All spends the remainder of the weekend moving and placing material on the washed out road. Many, many loads of sand/gravel/rocks/boulders are delivered and spread upon the road, making it even better than before. Photos will tell the story from beginning to end……..

*Roadmonkeys – those who back in the logging days of yesteryear were hired to keep the logging roads open and safe to remove logs to the river drive. This was in the days of horse drawn logging, when men were men, and the sheep were scared…. 😉


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.

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.