I've now ventured through Northern California's Emerald Triangle numerous times to meet murderers on their own turf. Fortunately, the only thing killer are terpene drenched hash farms and my own onslaught of their trichomes. That must have been what they were talking about in Murder Mountain. Slaying terps is a dirty job but somebody's got to do it. Unlike other farms hidden down dirt roads and unsuspecting driveways deep in the heart of Southern Humboldt's land-locked wilder