Fish stories and deer tales

All too often outdoorsmen get caught up in stretching their adventures afield so far they frey and break. Too bad, the truth is often far more interesting.
illustration - i65Design+Media; photos - Dave Richey

A deer tale is made up of some of the very same components as fish stories. Both usually require the use of both arms and hands to measure how long the trout was or how wide the  antler spread happened to be on that big buck they missed.

Oddly enough, some deer tales are true. Others may be partly true, and some have no truth to them whatsoever. For them, the  teller seldom lets the truth get in the way of a good story.

Some of these tales will provoke a questioning response from the listener. Some are out-and-out lies, and others may contain a kernel or two of truth simply because they are so outrageous, it seems likely they must contain some truth.

Some people lie when the truth would be more exciting

Over 58 years of hunting, some deer tales have come my way. Many are considered lies because I can see the teller's lips moving, and know he never tells the truth.

Years ago, a man who is not prone to lying told me a tale about a hunter he knew. The gent had watched a nice buck jump a dry drainage ditch at the same place several days in a row. The time was almost always about 5 p.m.

My friend's friend decided to ambush, bushwhack or dry-gulch the animal with a bow when it jumped the dry ditch. He peeked through tall marsh grass and watched as the buck moved closer. He said he came to full draw, while laying on his back in the ditch, and waited ... or so the story went.

The buck was heard near the edge of the ditch, and as the buck sailed over his prone body, he released the arrow. The shaft skewered the buck just behind the brisket, hit the spine, and exited the animal's back.

The buck could be heard alongside the road, flopping about, paralyzed, and slowly dying. He said a driver, sailing along in his car, almost hit the deer as it folded up inches from the edge of the road. The driver nearly had a heart attack, and thought the animal would crash through the windshield, which quite possibly could have happened.

My problem is: how does a bow hunter draw a bow while laying flat on his back? How does he nail a firm anchor point? Go ahead, try it: try laying on your back and draw an arrow.

Could it have been done? I doubt it. What do you think?

This next story I’ve heard from several people. Some truth involved,

Years ago several guys traveled to Tennessee each year to hunt those wild Rooshian boars, as the locals called them. Their weapon of choice was a spear. They found a boar, taunted it until it charged, and when the boar with its knife-sharp tushes came at them, they would put the back end of the spear in the ground, and when the pig charged, they met the charge with a spear point.

The storyteller said they killed several boars with a spear, and wanted to try it on deer. They knew it would be impossible to get a buck to charge so decided to try spearing a deer from a tree stand, even if it wasn't legal.

One of these yahoos saw a small buck walk past his stand, and he drew back his arm and threw the heavy spear with all of his might. The point went in behind the front shoulder, knocked the deer over, but it ran off and the spear fell out.

The violator climbed down, gathered up his bloodied spear, and started following the blood trail. He trailed the deer for some distance, saw it laying dead and walked up to it.

He squatted down, the spear held with the point upright like an African warrior, to admire the splendid throw he'd made. The spear was suddenly snatched from his hand. He jumped up, cussing up a streak, only to see a smiling conservation officer. The gent lost his deer and spear, received a ticket, paid a big fine, and lost his right to hunt for three years. That was rather a boneheaded play.

The fish and game we take deserve the truth, not a bunch of lies.

Such stories are almost too far-fetched to be true. Both show a wonderful sense of imagination, even if they probably aren't true. One of the secrets to telling a joke, a tall tale or a lie, is each one should contain some semblance of truth.

It's that little dash of truth, like mustard on a hot dog, that makes the tale somewhat tasty to the listener and easier to swallow. And, over many years, I've spent a good deal of time with conservation officers, and some of the tales they tell are about as far off center as these. So, perhaps they could be true.

I've got some other whoppers I've heard in the past, and some day soon I'll trot out a few more for your reading pleasure. If you've got a good one, send it along.

Posted via email from Dave Richey Outdoors