January 20, 2022

Two Guys From Massachussets Went Hunting in Maine…….

Oh, yes! The start of a good story. Every once in a while I have to do a reality check and let the true “me” come shining through. I love a good story and in particular when it is about hunting or fishing AND funny. I first heard this story while listening to Joe Perham entertain a bunch of Game Wardens.

Back to the beginning. Two fellas from Massachussets went up to northern Maine to go deer hunting. Each of them was successful in bagging their deer. They decided to search for a pilot who would fly them and their deer back to Boston.

They searched and searched and could not find anyone willing to risk flying these two guys and all their gear, plus two deer (in case you were wondering, they weren’t cows or donkeys or anything like that) out of the back woods of Maine.

They got down to the bottom of the list they had made and come to a pilot named Fernand. Fernand also refused to take the two hunters back to Boston. One of the hunters spoke up and said, “Last year when we came up here and hunted, we got Jacques, the flying wonder man, to fly us back to Boston!”

Fernand looked up and said, “Jew mean dat Jacques dere, he done fly you to hell to Boston?”

“Yeah, he did!” said the hunter.

“What da hell,” said Fernand. “If Jacgues can fly you dere, so can I! We strap dee damned deer, one on each of dem wings dere and we fly da hell back to Boston too!”

They loaded up all there gear and the plane was full. Like Fernand said, they strapped one deer on each wing and they headed out. As the plane slowly lifted into the air, it shuddad (that’s Maine talk) a couple of times as it barely made it over the tops of the tall spruce trees at the end of the runway.

They were struggling to stay aloft and had been out about 20 minutes, when the plane shook real hard. It coughed and sputtered and quickly the engines went silent. The plane began a rapid descent as Fernand struggled to control the aircraft. The two guys from Massachussets looked scared.

As the plane neared the ground, Fernand pulled hard up on the controls and was able to lessen the impact. The plane came to rest in the tops of several spruce trees.

The three men were alright. No one was seriously injured. Once they climbed down and got on the ground, Fernand says, “I wonder where da hell we are?”

One of the hunters spoke up and said, “Well, as near as I can tell, we are about 2 or 3 miles from where we came down last year.”

Tom Remington


Cheney Invites Helen Thomas to Go Quail Hunting With Him

In what is being reported as the “Joke of the Day”, Vice President Dick Cheney, in a supposed attempt to mend a few fences and lighten things up a bit, invited Helen Thomas on a quail hunting trip with him to Texas.

“I would like to extend an invitation to Helen to join me on a quail-hunting trip to the Armstrong Ranch,” Mr. Cheney said in an official statement at the White House. “It will be a chance for the two of us to spend some quality time together.”

Helen Thomas is the 655 year old member of the White House press corp who absolutely despises President Bush and badgered Bush at a recent press conference about why he really wanted to go to war in Iraq.

Tom Remington


While We All Have Hunting Safety on the Brain

This story comes as the result of a blogger’s hat tip to Moldy Chum, which if you haven’t bookmarked his blog yet, you need to. I go there everyday.

The original story about this 2004 catalogue cover for Cabela’s comes from the web site of Tony Rogers, another good web site you should visit. I am going to paste the photo of the Cabela’s cover here but you’ll need to follow this link to Tony’s story complete with observations, cut lines, comments and to make it easier he also blew up the picture of the hunters scrambling around their campsite so we can all appreciate the painting better. Below is the picture. Here is the link to the original story.

Cabelas 2004 catalogue cover

Assuming that you have now been over to Tony’s site and seen the blow-up of the picture and read his captions and observations, does any of this stir up memories in you of similar times? If it doesn’t, you haven’t lived. How does that expression go? – A&$holes and elbows?

So many times, the site of a buck by unaware hunters can result in the most bizarre happenings. I recall many, many years ago while at the hunting camp, one young fella, of course I was a young fella then too, got up early like all the rest of us and decided he wasn’t waiting around camp all morning for the slow ones to get ready.

As he donned his gear and grabbed is rifle, the rest of us were giggling inside because it was a bitter cold morning and we were all procrastinating because we didn’t want to face it.

The young and anxious hunter headed out the door, leaving us warm, contented fools to our bacon and eggs.

I wasn’t two minutes that had past, when the young hunter encountered a nice buck just off the dirt road that led to hunting camp, trying to sneak back to his favorite bedding down location.

When the single shot rang out, it was a$#holes and elbows of men and boys stumbling and tripping over one another trying to get out the door. Half us went out partially dressed – some in just their union suits and others with at least a hat on.

Some were grabbing their rifles only to get outside and realize they had no ammo for it or worse yet they had somebody else’s gun.

Bacon and eggs were left to burn on the stove and the coffee was boiling over onto the stove top. There were one or two guys who stayed calm and collected and fixed themselves a plate of eggs, toast, and bacon along with a hot cup of coffee. The majority of us were ready for action – well at least we thought we were.

The picture above is reminiscent of more than one time in my life. What about yours? Do you have a moment you want to relive and share with the rest of us? If so, simply use the comment section below and tell the world. You can tell everyone your story is fiction if it will make you feel any better and insert aliases for names. We know it’s the fishermen who lie, not the hunters.

Tom Remington