#1 My first trip up to Maine with my dad's uncle, I was 15. We lived in NJ, dad drove me up to Conn. to his uncles and dropped me with them. All the way up they filled my head with BEAR stories. We got to camp about 2AM, my assignment was to fill the water tank. I was given directions to the spring and handed a flashlight. They easily read the fear in my eyes. No way, not me, not with these bears. They about busted a gut laughing at me. LOL If I had been ballsy enough to go I would have gone about 50 feet right into the pond on the other side of camp following they're directions.
#2 That week I shot a coyote. I was with an old timer who was originally from the south, southern drawl and all. He was full of fun. He had me prop the thing up in the outhouse. Everyone that stragged in from the woods that afternnon was asked to check the outhouse for paper as they went by. WOHOO! Only the last guy got the short straw, no one else to pull it on.