“Is this the Notch?!”

Lindy bags nice eight pointer “In the Notch” – actually 8.5! Details to follow – Digger, post the pix!

Four members of the FAMHC (in very good standing) arrives to conditions that can only be described as how a clam must feel being submersed in 1000’ of water. The 12” snowpack has been reduced to 4 to 6” of warmy-changy, with fog and drizzle ever present. The three targets the area of concern (AOC) from the last two weeks to confirm if the beast o’ mighty is still killing trees and digging trenches to China. Leaddog takes the familiar route to the AOC, Robba and Steven heading up from the Duck Hole area. Upon entering the AOC, Leaddog and Robba observes yet again more activity from the beast of the last two weeks, but with little time left to attempt to find him. Steven gets out to the top of the Thumb, with no sighting of said mule. Lindy arrives and stays low on guard – thus placing himself in the upper echelon of those members, who are in very good standing of the FAMHC.

A small crew of seven rangers is now present, and a hunt of the old days is in order. A push from the Knolls to Camp Knob is set, with the Pie Whore at the back door on guard duty. Polecat goes high, as always and encounters a mule that appears to be leading him to places not planned. All continues on in an effort to find the beast, but the wind was not in the gangs favor – which led Polecat off the grid, thus creating yet another “who had the bell?” situation. Robba had the bell, and admitted that he had lost his charge! The mule escapes in a northerly direction, into the wind perhaps all the way to the diminishing ice pack in the Arctic Ocean, where all of the polar bears are supposedly drowning. A return on the other side of the creek was accomplished, pushing mules all about, some crossing the creek with others doing what they do best – disappearing into thin air!

As always, the “bunny hill” is set for exploitation. With only six to perform the hunt, and the seventh on guard duty down low, all starts as usual. Leaddog climbs to his watch, Lindy up top in the notch and Steven in his favorite place. Three drivers performs the task of many, and before any of the three watchers gets actually settled, three shots are fired from the area occupied by Lindy. Leaddog only 100 yards away waits to throw a rock at any mule attempting to escape, in an effort to turn it back to a shooter. No rock was required however, as over the air Lindy states excitedly that “Brown is Down”! The gang scrambles to the Notch, where Lindy was found grinning like the Grinch was seen in the Christmas special!


A nice eight pointer (with a ninth almost point) is down, which is Lindy’s first well deserved deer ever! We’ll call it an 8.5 pointer….

On yet another note: It has been observed that the last six bucks taken by the crew had quite an anomaly present. It appears that during those hunts, a certain member of F-Troop and a member not in good standing of the FAMHC at this time (no, Probie not you – that’s a whole different story) has not been present during those kills. What gives?

White Tines Decline Theory in action! -MEOW

WEEK FIVE – 2016


Toucher arrives, as usual in the dark to sit out yet another fabulous, cold day in his watch. Leaddog shows up and goes up the hill to scout out a possible mule for the gang to chase over the next couple of days. Robba does the same, climbing up to the back of Beaver Valley where he encounters a very excited Leaddog who claims that a new mule of very large magnitude is scraping and rubbing in an area that hasn’t been visited yet by the gang. Rubs so fresh were observed, the trees were oozing sap with small flies and gnats present in the rub. New rubs and scrapes were seen – and appeared to be even more fresh as the hunt continued. Both decides to hunt/scout the area out to the Duck Hole and meets the Toucher for a twilight exodus from the woods. The gang is informed of the findings and all are set to scour the area on Saturday for the beast that is killing all of the trees.

The crew, now well informed geared up and ready splits with the drivers, who are driven to their starting points, and watchers/hunters/scouts deployed up high to seal off any attempts by the mule to escape. Leaddog and Digger splits up high, Digger rimming the Finger, and Leaddog performing his scouting task as with the day prior. Upon entering the area from Friday, he notices that more scrape are present, with new rubs appearing that weren’t there on Friday. Even more exciting was the very large rubs seen on trees further down form the initial set, that were not there as well on Friday; in the same condition – bugs, running sap and fresh scrapes. This mule is playing games with the gang, especially taunting Leaddog. The pushers are in the area of the Split Rock camp, one mule is seen by Polecat that may have had headgear. All finally gets to the area almost where Leaddog was, and then escaped on the Escape route to lower grounds leaving Leaddog up high, all by himself with all of that mega-mule sign about. It was too late to hit the probable area where the mule may be residing in this time. A hunt of the local bunny hill brings the gang back to camp where a fine dinner of mule steaks was devoured by all.

On an interesting note, it appears that Toucher feels as if Leaddog is attempting to compromise his hunting capability by somehow poisoning him, once again as with last week. No other member got “compromised” from dinner from both Friday nights – it looks as if the Toucher has a “touchy-tummy”! Even more suspicion is conveyed on Leaddog, by him staying in the area of the mega-mule’s activity when the gang was on the “other side of the tracks”. Hmmmmmmmm……….

All awakens to a bout of warmy-changy, snow is falling and blowing in six directions at once. The trees are covered (plastered) creating yet another snow-globe white washed world. No mule in its right mind would be running about in these conditions, as with the crew. All leaves early in hopes of a return next Friday to better conditions to see if Mr. Mega mule is still in the area.


Robba bags 175lb 9 pointer with 15′ spread on Saturday, Leaddog bags 150lb 10 pointer with 17.5″ spread on Sunday.

Details to follow, after the “webmaster” posts photos from week three. There WAS enough time to work on the web….. 


Toucher arrives at camp in the pouring rain, lights a fire then leaves for his watch. Leaddog shows up soon after – the rain ceases and now high winds and dropping temperatures prevail. Robba and the Polecat joins the two, and all hits the Duckhole and Piney Knob. Lindy gets in the mix, all earn their CHU’s and are now in good standing in the FAMHC. Not one mule is seen or even smelled of. Toucher declares he’s reached ambient temperature and needs to move, and all moves to the beer –which is now fresh and not frozen! During one of many midnight to dawn visits to the piss porch, Leaddog is startled by a zombie like apparition hugging the garbage can – the Toucher was purging his body from the evil spirits that were residing in him, like seen in a Native American ceremony. Perhaps this will change our luck?!

A crew of thirteen is present, and a plan is set. All disperses to the area of two week ago, where all the deep rutted scrapes were found, and cataloged. Watchers go into and around Camp Valley, drivers head up to Hooter Ridge to start the drive. Four drivers push an area the size of Texas, and appear to push some mules about, based on the several thousand tracks seen. The drivers finally get to their end points, with Chip and Robba crisscrossing paths, due to Chip’s inherent ability to travel down-hill when instructed to stay on the elevation, which wasn’t a bad thing after all – this time. Robba climbs high to the base of Camp Knob and encounters one of “The bucks we were looking for”. Two shots were heard, and the declaration of “Brown is Down”! Nine points, 15” spread and 175lbs of mule is ours! Of course Leaddog and Steven were on the trail, 700 feet below Robba in elevation. Toucher, who was working on seven cylinders on bad fuel due to the purging ceremony, meets Robba and Lindy and proceeds to haul the beast out of the woods. Polecat and Chip runs to retrieve the buck cart and all is well, arriving back at camp just in time to see the sun set!

Sunday: “Darrin’s Deer, Darrin’s Deer!?”
A hunt for beast two is set – all is fired up from the kill of Saturday. A local hill is the target, with Toucher once again hitting his watch. As he approaches he pushes a large bodied deer from his spot. The rest of the gang gets to their watches, with drivers going to the other side of the hill to push. Robba and Poledog climbs high, with Leadcat to push the lower shelf. Dogpole waits for the climbers to get to their starting spots, waiting for Catlead to give the go ahead. After 40 minutes of waiting, Leadpole sees an apparition emanating from the end of the mountain. Dogcat then fires at the beast with headgear hitting it! Leadcat who is high on the hill now has to return with Robba to help chase the hit mule, if needed. The two drivers meets the marksman, and after only 50 yards the beast is found dead, sporting 10 points, 17.5” spread and 150lbs. Sorry Toucher……

WEEK THREE! – 2016

The second meeting of the FAMHC was held, with three members present for continued certification in the esteemed club. One of said members still has issues to be resolved, as will be discussed in depth further in this report. Toucher gets to his watch in the sky at dark and awaits for the beast of his dreams to appear. Leaddog shows up, and hits the backside of Beaver Valley and up to the area known as the “wet spot” – aka “the little black hole”. Probie shows up a little later (said member with issue) hunts through the Razorback area. Scrapes are observed, rubs here and there but no mules are pushed or seen. Up by the Spider Tree, which is a well known navigational waypoint Leaddog finds yet another motherlode of mushrooms! Filling a full grocery bag of the delectable delights, which weighed 8lbs plus thus filling his pack and adding more weight than desired, he asked for assistance from Probie to help transport the ‘shrooms out. A flat denial to assist was transmitted to Leaddog, who then (as leader, president and chief of said esteemed club) had to endure four additional miles of climbing and bushwhacking with the added weight on his back. Probie should consider getting a tattoo ”Probie for Life” somewhere placed on his person, since a lifetime achievement award has been earned. Sunday’s soon to be discussed endeavor with Probie proves that the tattoo ink should be sent to the bone. All departs the woods, and more scrapes are now present than before when the day started.

A gang of 13 is now assembled and a major push of a particular hill is in order. Watchers are placed, and drivers have their orders. Fog hides the woods creating a task for some of those drivers with technological deficiencies. All gets into place and drive one commences, with no mules seen or heard of. Scrapes and rubs abound, some new and some old – where is the maker of these signs? Part two of the day has about the same results, and Lindy actually sees two fe-mules! A quick part three just wears the gang out, so all trudges back to camp to enjoy mule steaks; with fresh free range, antibiotic free mushrooms to boot!

Followers of this site are quite aware of what usually occurs on Sunday, especially after spending two days in mule heaven. Why hunt where the probability of seeing the monster mule is best? No, as usual all are dispersed to hunt a hill nowhere near the area of interest of the last two days. The gang is sent to their usual places with NO results, not even Toucher’s dates are present. Where did they go to? Winter kill, coyotes, alien abduction…..what gives? We always run into Toucher’s dates, but none in the last two weeks! During the hunts pre-preparation it was conveyed that Leaddog should give up his watch to Probie…..which was not to be had. During watcher placement however, Probie seems to be in the general area of Leaddog, who then graciously, and reluctantly asks the Probie if he would like to man said watch and Leaddog would go up the hill. Yet another denial from Probie was given, and even better Leaddog found some ‘shrooms that could have made it all better, if Probie carried them back to camp. Nope – Probie shall always be Probie….Junior and Robba finds another motherlode of mushrooms – Junior gets his ‘shroom badge!

Stay tuned for week four – “Ftroop gives up hunting and becomes gatherers!”

WEEK TWO – 2016


The first deployment of the FAMHC results in Leaddog, Robba, Steven and Polecat receiving their CHU’s as mandated in the secret club’s charter. The fresh snow of the night’s prior warmy-changy event resulted in 3 to 4 inches of tracking media. Leaddog heads out solo, soon to be joined by Robba and Steven, and takes the low route through the Knolls heading up to the area of the 10pt watch. A big track is observed heading in the wrong direction, as always. The members of the esteemed club formulates a plan, and hunts to where no deer are, as evidenced by the increasing amount of snowed in old tracks. The gang hunts the other side of the duck hole over “the little one” and back to camp with no success.

A well assembled crew wakes to rain, which now combined with the snow makes walking any distance to where the gang really wanted to hunt, out of the question. The rain holds off, and a plan is made – watchers up to Camp Knob. And the drivers to the Meadows to push back. The crew splits, all gets to their starting points and the rain actually held off! Usually at this point the deluge commences in fine fashion!
Toucher, Leaddog and Polecat drives, with Polecat taking yet again the Canadian route. Toucher sees two does vacating the area, and many track abound. Leaddog is perplexed by the cadence of said tracks, over logs, through blowdown, in the blow down, on top of the blowdown; what gives? No coyote pressure, feeding or alien presence was observed creating such a panic. Chip sees a pair of does on his way to his watch, Steven sets up in Camp Valley on the edge of the infamous, perilous “800’ cliff;” and Lindy goes high on Hooter Ridge. Digger and Robba are the roaming fielders, poking about here and there. The Piewhore stays low and guards the coming night’s dessert, as only the Piewhore can do!
The drive comes together, with the Polecat finally joining the crew after yet another brief encounter with the Canadian border patrol…. Leaddog finds Steven, and then is shown to him what may be the contributing factor of why the does down low were all in a tizzy! No less the 15 aggressive scrapes were observed, with much damage to the surrounding flora. Either the mule was digging for truffles or attempting to contact China, the ruts made by his digging were collecting water! The does were being harassed by the Mr. Wiener of bucks, but they didn’t want to play – just yet. Part two of the drive towards Piney Knob resulted in many rubs found, so there’s a mule of size operating in the general area without the proper permits. Permitting is a must!! On the way out, Robba earns his mushroom badge – by locating yet another motherload of the delicious delicacies – which was once again consumed with mule steaks!

The usual drive behind camp is performed, why go and hunt where the deer are!? All takes their prescribed stations, and all does what they do best – climb the hills! No mules were seen, and the rain commences just in time to soak the left overs – who incidentally finally moved the unused treestand to a much better spot, which most likely will be continued to be unused.
Next week – “Permitting” of mules!

WEEK ONE – 2016

The gang gathers the night prior for yet another fun filled season of chasing mules across the lands. All awakens to the first round of warmy-changy currently in liquid phase mode and departs for a “close hunt.” Layers of Gore-Tex are donned, and all are dispersed to test this miracle fabric once again. One team is driven by the driver to the end of the objective, with watchers sneaking to their haunts. The Toucher proceeds to his “fields of amber waves of grain”, to commence what may be another waiting game for the certain buck. Leaddog mans his watch where a fine seven pointer was once bagged and dragged, Spike to his watch and the Pie Whore to his watch – which once again was close to the pies! Chip goes to Greenie’s Rock to relive the kill of last year – which weighed in at almost 1552 ounces!

Drivers begin the push, observing two scrapes. Polecat climbs to his starting point, up “the purple mountains majesty” with Robba and Steven start from theirs, and then the liquid phase of warmy-changy turns promptly into the semi-solid phase known as: SNRAIN. Leaves abound, which in conjunction with the SNRAIN makes seeing anything, including any objective that was to be reached by the drivers, now to be a feat of woodsmanship. All finds each other and departs towards the warm dry camp to discuss why they even went out and got all that high dollar space age fabric wet in the first place. No mules were seen or heard laughing at the soaked crew.

On the way out – Polecat sees a few mushrooms and declares we are now mushroom hunters. Steven is briefed on the correct species of said shrooms to find, which he did in 4.2 seconds! A FULL shopping bag of the delicacy was collected, and consumed with Saturday nights mulefeast!

The crew wakens to the now snow covered hills with gale force winds. The days hunt is planned and all disperse to their spots in the woods as planned. Drivers and watchers climb high into the snow covered hills, some stay low. Leaddog sees a small doe on the way up the hill, and finds his watch. Steven covers the other side of the hill, with other watchers now in their place as well. Robba spanks a coyote on the way in, and the drive commences. All performs the usual push with no results. Polecat and Digger finds the Leaddog in his watch, and then commences part two of the drive. All works their way towards camp, with Polecat seeing two does. After the prescribed lag, Leaddog climbs straight up the hill and stumbles into a large bodied deer at the top – where the drive just went through just 20 minutes prior. Said deer as always, was traveling in the opposite direction of the drive. The crew arrives at camp, with no antlered mule in their possession.