David Sims exchanged yodels with wary specklebellies, coaxing them ever closer to our pit blind. Stopping to catch his breath before starting another series of calls, he whispered to remind us, “Wait ’til I say shoot ’em.”[…]
If the Farmer’s Almanac and all the old folks around my house are correct, we should be right in the middle of an unusually warm and dry winter as you are reading this. La Nina, I think they call it.[…]
“Amazing!” Eddie yelled while watching his cork dance in the current around a finger of marsh jutting into Muscle Bay. “Pelayo’s Point — and it’s still here! Like the hurricane never happened.”[…]
Alvin Fairchild was sitting in a climber, freezing to death. He had earned that right, walking far into Sherburne Wildlife Management Area to hunt an area in which he and life-long friend Floyd Coye had scored time and time again.[…]
Who in their right mind would pick up a topwater rod during the middle of winter? It doesn’t seem like a very smart thing to do, but there is a contingent of speckled trout anglers who do just that when most everybody else is mining the bottom.[…]
Did you ever hear of Wolf Creek, Duck Slough, Muddy Bayou, Pocosin, Whiskey Chitto creeks, Dugdemona River, Chaney and Choctaw Creek, Upper and Lower Sunk lakes? Or how about Hunter Creek, Ben’s Creek, Mississippi Bayou, Sally Miller Pond or Louisiana Cypress Canal?[…]
It was early October, and the soft light of dawn revealed that the Venice Marina harbor held as many orange-vested oil clean-up crewmen as sportfishermen.[…]
Once bucks are in the height of pursuing does, their instincts for survival are somewhat diminished. Their eyes, ears and noses are focused on estrus does, and although they can still respond to threats, most of the time it takes them a few seconds longer to put two and two together.[…]
Capt. Jack Payne can see his own version of a winter wonderland from his front porch. The owner of Sweetwater Guide Service and Marina, Payne poured his pay-to-launch ramp right at the intersection of Bayous Terre Aux Boeufs and Gentilly.[…]
It was supposed to be a fishing trip, but it turned out to be more like a funeral. I guess I should be used to it by now, having lived and fished in much of the waters along our Southeast Louisiana coast most of my life.[…]
“Come see, Bwana!” Pelayo was squatting next to a slough and beckoning me over with a hand wave. “These tracks look super fresh, Bwana.”[…]
Tommy Milioto Jr. knew the deer was there. He had seen too many pictures of the fine buck. The problem was all the pictures were snapped at night.[…]
My problem with the point I’m fishing is that the bass just have to be biting better on the one across the lake.[…]
Gold is where you find it.
For Mike Hulin, gold was to be found 41 feet underground, just off the shoulder of Louisiana State Highway 319 near beautiful downtown Cypremort Point. The stocky, straw-hat wearing man excavated the spot from October 2008 into the summer of 2010, in spite of repeated setbacks.[…]
Over the last few decades, technology has dramatically altered deer hunting. With an endless variety of camouflage clothing, scent-control products, game cameras, range finders, feeders, climbing stands, pop-up blinds, cough suppressors and the like, today’s deer hunters have as many gizmos available to them as bass fishermen.[…]
Ever see those pictures on the bags of food-plot seed of fields of ankle-deep greenery, all lush and verdant?[…]