WEEK SEVEN!

Friday:
Leaddog arrives to a dark, cold, and empty camp to apparently hunt solo. After getting the camp prepared for the rest of the gang, a hunt to Billy’s watch was in order due to yet another round of Al Gore’s induce global warming events. Three inches of partly cloudy and the uncertainty of more changed the plans of going up top, but resulted in a great day hunting the swamps and hardwoods along the stream. Tracks of bear and deer were present, but no makers of such were encountered. It is now apparent where the mules cross when pushed from one side to the other. A watch will be set up in the future in these spots. Polecat, Piewhore and Probie joins Leaddog after dark for the last Friday’s beer tasting event.

Saturday:
Since the pressure seems to be off on the gang from last weeks kill, everyone else arrives early in the morning due to various but still unconfirmed excuses. A hunt from No-name to Ironder-twat is in order, with the usual push to be performed. Stosh shows up an hour late and a mile behind, but not because of his lack of promptness in arrival, but due to his promptness in getting his car stuck in the ditch on the road into camp. Said vehicle’s position in the road prevented the drivers from being dropped off by vehicle, until the obstruction was cleared. The extrication crew was considering firing up Denmama’s backhoe to push the obstructing vehicle over the bank, but Probie removes the stump and the large rock that somehow Stosh perfectly parallel parked within just in time, and the drivers are driven to finally drive.

Does once again are penned and released at the end of the drive on part one. Part two consisted of the usual antics up top by Toucher and Digger, who were playing slap ass with the does. After some time, in which several fingers and toes were frozen solid of the watchers, the drive was completed. In the very last minutes of the drive, a doe is pushed out by the Polecat to the bottom, proving that a tighter drive line works. All returns to camp for closing-eve activities.

Sunday:
Where did all the So-Co go? Sounding like a new country hit song, most likely performed by Miley Cyrus somebody drank just about all of the So-Co! Closing ceremonies of the night prior and the success of last week’s kill has created a no urge to hunt scenario. The camp gets cleaned and ready for snowmobile season, as all finally disperses down the hill to the their loved ones for holiday related preparations.

Synopsis:
F-Troop hunts in snow conditions, during all seven weeks of the season.

Lindy see’s and hits the Thirty-Seven Point buck. All’s not lost however, due to the deers armor.
Watchers pass on a fork-horn and a spike.
A big mean ‘ol bear took all of Toucher’s bullets, and one-third of his rifle.
Robba has a chance to bag a big eight, but his Jammington 30.06 prevents such.
Leaddog bags the only buck – a nice seven pointer. 😉

5 Replies to “WEEK SEVEN!”

  1. Well once again I miss the entire season of festivities…I am not a happy trooper but I got’s to do what I got’s to do…. I am sure I received just ridicule from my fellow F-Troopers, I just hope you guys had the good taste to keep Lamont out of my bunk and away from my beer mug…..If you didn’t, please keep it to yourselves 🙂 However I humbly ask for your forgiveness and offer 1/2 keg of beer and a bottle of Bombay to garner (buy) your good graces next season. Happy Trails till next season!
    Trailhugger

  2. SEND US THE MONEY IN CASE YOU DONT SURVIVE A ON THE JOB CATASTROPHE.
    SUCH AS A ACCIDENT RUSHING TO THE BANK TO DEPOSIT ALL THE MONEY YOUR MAKING.
    Den Ma Ma
    PS WHERE’S THE SO CO

  3. We accept cash, personal check, money order, Certified Bank Check, or yer rifle, all yer ammo for said rifle and the bear rug. We will not accept any waterfowl related items! 🙂

  4. Okay Denmama I’ll buy a bottle of SoCo too.
    “You’ll get my gun when you pry it from my cold dead fingers!!”
    Quack! 🙂

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