Number of Nice Ones
The time of year was mid-summer. The time of day, dawn. The fishing hole, Lake D’Arbonne.[…]
The time of year was mid-summer. The time of day, dawn. The fishing hole, Lake D’Arbonne.[…]
The giant flare was as impressive audibly as it was in a visual sense, giving off a dull roar.[…]
Imagine that your boat is a plane flying over the lake bottom taking aerial photos of the bottom through windows on both sides of its hull, and you have a rough idea of what you get from Humminbird’s new Side Imaging feature.[…]
A different look and a different feel are the selling points of a new crankbait on the market.[…]
According to Roger del Rio, the dark side of the fly fishing force threatens.[…]
It flashed like a silver dish flipping underwater. The lane snapper shot one way and then another.[…]
Ernie Pyle called it the “thousand-yard stare.” Pyle was a WWII war correspondent who shared foxholes with the boys who won it. He wrote for the folks back home about the grunts and dogfaces and the holy hell they went through while blasting their way to victory — but from a front-line seat.[…]
When was the last time you caught a limit of speckled trout? Think about it. When was the last time you and your buddies pulled slime-coated, contorted trout, one by one, from the ice chest, counted them and then picked up your rods to catch the number remaining?
Guides, many of whom are on the water 200 or more days a year, probably caught too many limits over the last year to count, but few weekend anglers, I’m certain, came anywhere close to equaling that level of success.[…]
Lake Borgne has for a long time taken a back seat to its bigger brother, Pontchartrain, who likes to hog the spotlight and grab all the attention for the large trout it produces.[…]
It’s easy to outrun those huge tankers when they’re chugging upriver. They’re like us after a huge champagne brunch. You can almost hear them groaning as they churn slowly upriver, fully-laden, low in the water, every yard gained an agonizing effort.[…]
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.”[…]
What is it about the flash of gold in green tinted water that makes so many of us go bonkers to the point of embellishment?[…]
The first day of the 2004 Redfish Tour Open Championship was fishing about how most everybody had scouted it.[…]
Only a slight ripple tousled the water as Erik Rue streaked across the wide-open reaches of Calcasieu Lake.[…]
Dear Capt. Paul:
If possible, I would like to know the coordinates for Basket Reef on Big Lake.[…]
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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