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A Tall Tale Safe Space
The old man got a gift from DU in the mail today. It is delightful. A miniature decoy. I have several on display in a spare bedroom.
I am a memory pack rat. I save the strangest things. On the dresser shelf in the spare bedroom there is an old, old plastic container that electrician’s tape is packaged in. That is the set up for this story.
Years ago the Dear One and a brother bought me a muzzle loading double barrel shotgun. I used to carve my own decoys and hunt ducks, geese and pheasants with it. I even sewed my own leather purse. Bag limits were small and there was nothing good anyone could say about steel shot back then. Ask Dad or Grandpa. When lead shot was finally banned from muzzle loading shot guns I had a gunsmith put leaf sights on it. The barrels were not in line but it was good enough for a smooth bore. A .715 patched round ball, a fiberwad, remember this is December. Enough said. I have never been a good shot with a rifle. I did not like my 50 cal Hawkins. It was end heavy. The shotgun was not and I could carry it all day. It had two shots. I once had the fun of trying to load a 50 cal with a big buck standing close enought for me to touch it. The shotgun seemed like a good choice. Was that the day a coyote ran through the woods so close to me that I tried to kick it in the ass? The guys I hunted with would post for an hour in the morning and then mostly walk, drive, all day. Perhaps sit in the late afternoon, enjoy a quiet sunset.
We were making a drive beside a lake in western Minnesota. Ahead of me a doe got up, ran toward the lake. It looked good. I let the trusty left barrel go. Shortly after I fired the deer was out of sight. Did I hit it? Miss? No deer was to be found. As we continued our drive a mile or so down the lake we saw no signs of a wounded deer. We looked, did what we were supposed to do. It was time to head back. Walking on the lake was the good choice. We meandered in toward shore, out on the lake. One of the boys found something interesting. It was a big round lead ball with the frozen patch still on it. With amazement he asked, “Where did this come from?” “It’s the lead ball I shot at that deer”, I said. He could not believe me. My response was, “No one else could possibly be stupid enough to use a smooth bore double barrel shotgun to hunt deer with”. With that he handed me the lead ball. It has been in that electrician’s tape container for longer than most of you guys have been alive. Memories are a precious thing guys and gals. The wonderful thing about hunting and fishing stories is that, at least among friends, most of them are true.
The old man would love to hear some of your unusual stories. The ones that you are still laughing about, shaking your head in disbelief about. The ones that are too good to be true.
Happy New Year, The Old Man
The old man got a gift from DU in the mail today. It is delightful. A miniature decoy. I have several on display in a spare bedroom.
I am a memory pack rat. I save the strangest things. On the dresser shelf in the spare bedroom there is an old, old plastic container that electrician’s tape is packaged in. That is the set up for this story.
Years ago the Dear One and a brother bought me a muzzle loading double barrel shotgun. I used to carve my own decoys and hunt ducks, geese and pheasants with it. I even sewed my own leather purse. Bag limits were small and there was nothing good anyone could say about steel shot back then. Ask Dad or Grandpa. When lead shot was finally banned from muzzle loading shot guns I had a gunsmith put leaf sights on it. The barrels were not in line but it was good enough for a smooth bore. A .715 patched round ball, a fiberwad, remember this is December. Enough said. I have never been a good shot with a rifle. I did not like my 50 cal Hawkins. It was end heavy. The shotgun was not and I could carry it all day. It had two shots. I once had the fun of trying to load a 50 cal with a big buck standing close enought for me to touch it. The shotgun seemed like a good choice. Was that the day a coyote ran through the woods so close to me that I tried to kick it in the ass? The guys I hunted with would post for an hour in the morning and then mostly walk, drive, all day. Perhaps sit in the late afternoon, enjoy a quiet sunset.
We were making a drive beside a lake in western Minnesota. Ahead of me a doe got up, ran toward the lake. It looked good. I let the trusty left barrel go. Shortly after I fired the deer was out of sight. Did I hit it? Miss? No deer was to be found. As we continued our drive a mile or so down the lake we saw no signs of a wounded deer. We looked, did what we were supposed to do. It was time to head back. Walking on the lake was the good choice. We meandered in toward shore, out on the lake. One of the boys found something interesting. It was a big round lead ball with the frozen patch still on it. With amazement he asked, “Where did this come from?” “It’s the lead ball I shot at that deer”, I said. He could not believe me. My response was, “No one else could possibly be stupid enough to use a smooth bore double barrel shotgun to hunt deer with”. With that he handed me the lead ball. It has been in that electrician’s tape container for longer than most of you guys have been alive. Memories are a precious thing guys and gals. The wonderful thing about hunting and fishing stories is that, at least among friends, most of them are true.
The old man would love to hear some of your unusual stories. The ones that you are still laughing about, shaking your head in disbelief about. The ones that are too good to be true.
Happy New Year, The Old Man
