Two moose hunters from Texas are flown into a remote lake in Alaska.
They have a good hunt, and both manage to get a large moose. When the
plane returns to pick them up, the pilot looks at the animals and
says, “This little plane won’t lift all of us, the equipment, and
both of those animals. You’ll have to leave one. We’d never make it
over the trees on the take off.”
“That’s baloney”, says one of the hunters.
“Yeah,” the other agrees, “you’re just chicken: we came out here last
year and got two moose and that pilot had some guts: He wasn’t afraid
to take off!”
“Yeah”, said the first hunter, “and his plane wasn’t any bigger than
yours!”
The pilot got angry, and said, “If he did it, then I can do it. I can
fly as well as anybody!” They loaded up, taxied at full throttle, and
the plane almost made it, but didn’t have the lift to clear the trees
at the end of the lake. It clipped the tops, then flipped, then broke
up, scattering the baggage, animal carcasses, and passengers all
through the brush.
Still alive, but hurt and dazed, the pilot sat up, shook his head to
clear it, and said, “Where are we?”
One of the hunters rolled out from being thrown into a bush, looked
around, and said, “I’d say about a hundred yards further than last
year.”