From suiting up giants to walking on clouds, from tall stories of tall corn to snakes milking cows and vinegar springs, the tall tale is perhaps North America’s most emblematic form of storytelling. The situations are absurd, but the characters and deeds are most endearing. For each tale is carefully crafted to regale eager listeners through the full heart, imagination and wit of the storyteller.

Ever followed the trail of the side-hill gouger? Ever seen a snake break into a dozen pieces and wriggle itself back together? Surely, you have heard the somber cries, “Where the lion roareth and the whangdoodle mourneth for her first-born.” No? Well, arguably, that last one seemed like bit of a stretch. Regardless, sit tight and brace yourself for the amazing, marvelous, strange and wonderful animals of lumberjack imagination.

The phrase “fish-eating grin,” derives from the spot of fishing. For a good fisherman never comes back empty handed. Should one fail to return with a record-breaking catch, a story is brought to the table. Such tales are that circumstances, implausible but still “true,” deprived one of the largest fish ever seen. Such accounts are accompanied by exaggeration. No fish is simply “big” but “huge” or “tremendous,” with emphasis placed on the trustworthiness of the storyteller (i.e. “Believe me,” or “You should have seen it!”). All the while, each detail being accorded with a mile-wide grin.