Built by a hunter, not a boardroom.

The story.

I've been picking up antlers for 25 years. Not for a company — there wasn't one. I did it because the mountains are where I go when things aren't good, and walking a ridge in March looking for bone is the closest thing to quiet I've found. The mountains and hunting saved my life. That's not a line for a website. It's just what happened.

I put about $300,000 into building the first version of this app — a couple hundred thousand of it was investment from Bonafide Antler. Ron Hulse, the largest antler buyer in North America, believed in this thing early. Eight developers, a year and a half. It shipped. 1,071 people signed up and scored 2,663 antlers with it. Then it broke — and the seed money was gone. Life happened too. I got a divorce. I sat on it for a long time, kept paying the server bills, kept the lights on, because I didn't know what else to do.

Then I decided I was going to learn to fix it myself. I taught myself AI and code, and I rebuilt it from the ground up — completely on my own, as a full-time single dad with a full-time job. That's what you're looking at now.

In 25 years of hunting, no agency has ever asked me what I saw out there. Not once. Every day glassing, every drainage that used to hold bulls and doesn't, every shed — proof an animal made it through the winter — none of it counted. That's the thing I'm building: a way for the guy who's out there anyway to put what he saw into something that does something with it.

I don't want an app company. I want some kid twenty years from now to walk into a drainage and find what I found. That's the whole thing.

One Person. One Mission.

No co-founder. No venture capital. No marketing team. Just a hunter who got tired of watching herds decline while nobody collected the data that could change it. Twenty years of construction management, a patent, and a bet that hunters would do the work if someone built the tool.