Young anglers quickly learning fine art of storytelling

You can always pick out the good storytellers, because people seek them out and are reluctant to leave once the telling has begun. One of the best in the business is Doug Hunt, my father-in-law’s first cousin. Whenever there is a family gathering, all the men folk look for “Uncle” Doug, because they know he’ll have a collection of stories. This is especially true around hunting season.

Being a good storyteller also requires the ability to create just the right atmosphere. In outdoor circles, that usually means building a good storytelling campfire. This is not your ordinary campfire, however. Uncle Doug’s storytelling campfire is so special that it even has its own name — the Doug Hunt Boomer. I was first introduced to the Doug Hunt Boomer when I joined that side of the family on an elk hunt in the high country. The fire was so big that its light probably could be seen by the astronauts in the space shuttle.

For me, sitting by the fire was a moving experience, and within minutes I felt this strange urge to dance among the quaking aspen. Unfortunately, the combination of smoke trails from my melting boot soles and my awesome Napoleon Dynamite-like dance moves must have scared all the elk off the mountain, because we never did find any. The screaming probably didn’t help, either.

I suppose that the truly great storytellers get started at an early age. Some misguided people might call these bold narratives lies, but that doesn’t do their efforts proper justice. In fact, I recently witnessed the birth of a future storyteller right on the shoreline at Lake Mead. Whether he turns out to be a great outdoor storyteller remains to be seen, but he is off to a good start.

The youth was with a group of seven or eight anglers-in-training that accompanied a brave fisherman to the lake and joined me for what I hoped would be a quiet evening of fishing for catfish. I don’t know the man. He told me most of the youth he brought that day never had been fishing and that he hoped learning how to fish might keep them out of trouble.

He’s right.

The man and I each managed to reel in a couple of catfish, but the action was slow. As young anglers are prone to do when the catching isn’t happening fast enough to keep their attention, the boys began to explore and soon disappeared. Eventually, they came back with a stringer full of striped bass and catfish. After explaining to their mentor that the fish had been given to them by another angler, I heard the young storyteller as he orchestrated the story.

The original story line was that the boys each had caught a fish, but they soon realized that wouldn’t work because there were more boys than there were fish on the stringer. I listened and chuckled as the boys debated over who would get credit for their haul. After discussing the issue for 10 or 15 minutes, the matter was settled and everyone seemed happy. What most of them didn’t understand was that the conversation had been manipulated by the young storyteller.

There was no booming campfire to create the right ambience, but the lights of Las Vegas served almost as well.

With their gear packed and their fish in tow, the boys headed up the trail and into the growing darkness. All seemed quiet at the water’s edge. Then I heard the storyteller’s voice. “When we get home, I caught all of these fish. Remember?”

Technically there is some fact in his story. After all, he did have a stringer full of fish.

Doug Nielsen is an award-winning freelance writer and a conservation educator for the Nevada Department of Wildlife. His “In the Outdoors” column is published Thursday. He can be reached at doug@takinitoutside.com.