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Toledo Bend Slam

“We can call this the Toledo Bend Slam,” the voice on the other end of the phone said. “We should be able to catch black bass, white bass, stripers, bream, crappie…” That last one got my attention.[…]

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Worth Its Salt

Saline Lake is located in the northcentral part of Louisiana approximately 6 miles northeast of Clarence. In fact, the lake is given the suffix “Clarence” to differentiate it from two other Louisiana lakes named Saline.[…]

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Oh my Gauche!

The red torpedo cork hit the duckweed and just kept going. For a moment I could only imagine the terror that fat cricket must have experienced as it plunged below the water’s surface only to find itself being sucked between the lips of a giant warmouth.[…]

Freshwater Fishing

Take a redear roadtrip to Caney

Anglers looking for a good road trip this weekend couldn’t make a better decision than to head up to Caney Lake in Jackson Parish to tangle with the giant chinquapin that’s turning the lake into a panfishing paradise.[…]

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Chilly Chinquapin

Eddie Halbrook could hardly contain his excitement. He had discovered how much I like catching chinquapins only months earlier, and he wanted to let me know he was on them again.[…]

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All in the Family

In a world full of eroded family ties, North Louisiana is a place where the true family spirit can still be found. This section of Louisiana that has been titled “Sportsman’s Paradise” by the Louisiana Office of Tourism could more aptly be called “Sports-family’s Paradise.”[…]

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Red-Hot Summer

Before turkey hunting totally messed up my mind, I always looked forward to spring and the opportunity to trailer my boat to a nearby lake to do battle with big, sway-bellied spawning bass, crappie hanging out around the roots of shallow cypresses or my favorite, finding a bed of bream.[…]

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The Patron Saint of Bream

The cricket skittered across the water’s surface, frantically trying to reach the nearest tree. Ripples that telegraphed its position to every fish within yards radiated from the insect with every kick of its legs.

The insect would pause every few inches, either to catch its breath or to allow the damning wavelets to dissipate. Then it would continue its voyage, drawing nearer to safe haven with every powerful surge.
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Flooded Felines

The sky was a gorgeous dark grey — almost black — as we pounded into Breton Sound. Lovely little white caps topped the waves like frosting on chocolate cake, the swells between them heavily rippled by the savage gusts that had kicked up just seconds earlier.[…]