Cypress Grove Hunting Club is a throwback to the days of yesteryear, when there weren’t a lot of deer in the woods, and hunting clubs were large, extended family groups that passed memberships down like knightings. […]
A spectral shape darted across the shadowy bottom, disappearing behind a fallen treetop. […]
It was several years ago when Wild Turkey Hunting Club decided to move from an anything-goes buck management plan to a requirement that bucks have at least 6 points before members could shoot them. […]
Michael Fazende and his 11-year-old son David settled into the box stand Nov. 1 hoping to get a jump on the other members on their 1,200-acre West Feliciana lease. […]
Al Bullock knew a good buck was in the cutover, but after six straight days of hunting West Bay Wildlife Management Area he had nothing but lost time to show. […]
Rowdy deer visits children’s store
Head manager Joseph Velesis said he tried to calm the deer by talking to it, but the animal panicked and charged toward the back of the store. […]
It was an early January morning, and a bright moon, two days past full, cast an eerie light across the swamp. A bitter North Louisiana cold snap had kept the temperature below freezing for several days, and now it was in the low 20s with a light north wind. […]
Twelve-year-old Louis Rossignol Jr. hadn’t been in his box stand overlooking the foodplot for 10 minutes, and his heart was already in his throat. His eyes bugged. He didn’t breath; he gasped. His father — tense, eyes riveted — looked over his son’s shoulder. […]
The hunter leaned against a tree, intently inspecting the surrounding woods and enjoying an apple. […]
Tony Chachere Jr. had been hunting Three Rivers Wildlife Management Area for several years, and he had killed a couple of deer. […]
It had been raining for several days, but my hunting partner and I were undeterred. […]
The day had aged by only about 15 minutes when the buck appeared about 40 yards from the stand. […]
The situation appears perfect. A nice buck and two mature does are 100 yards in front of your stand. They are feeding in the wide open. They don’t know you exist. You can already taste the paneed backstrap. […]
Robert Clay’s instructions were clear.
“Walk down this road, and you’ll come to a flagged stake,” he said. […]
It was as though the animal had popped out of the ground, as deer are seemingly apt to do in food plots. […]
As a youngster, I devoured my uncle’s outdoor magazines. He was a chemical engineer, a machinist, a shooter and a gunsmith — and I hero-worshiped him as only a kid can. […]
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