<BGSOUND src="#"> "Hunting On Boeuf River WMA" This trip came about one day when my step-dad "Woody", told me he had hunted this area on the opening day of rifle season and had seen 5 deer and had missed two. So I decided I would round up a posse and see if we couldn't go in there and, if nothing else, scare the crap out of a few. I called my brother-in-law (Gene) and asked him if he was up to a couple of days in a camper. As usual he said "Well I would like to go but I have to ask the wife if she will let me". Poor soul.......I can't say..I remember those days because I never had that problem. If Mark decided to go hunting, Mark went hunting, no questions asked! Yeah right! You guys know what I'm talking about. Well anyway, he finally got the "OK" from my sister and now all we needed was to convince Woody to go, which is no small feat. Since his so-called retirement, he works too much and you can never get him to take a few days for the more important things in life, like hunting, fishing, camping, canoeing...etc. But finally I contacted him about it and he said "Well, I would like to go but I have to ask the wife if she will let me", poor soul....yes, thats right, another hen-pecked one. But I'm NOT, and I have three divorce decrees that say so!!! Boeuf River Well, anyway, back to the story. After everyone got the go-ahead from the gestapo, we set off to the camp area, where Woody had said we could stay, that he knew the guy and it wouldn't be a problem. Well, once we got there and set up, Woody decided that he would go and get a generator to run the heaters, cause it was a bit nippy. Then a guy showed up and wanted to know who we are and what we were doing and how tall we were, our social security numbers, when was the last time we took a dump........well, it really wasn't that bad, I guess. I started to explain that we were there with Woody and of course....he didn't know who the hell Woody is. So there we were, looking like squatters, then here came the owner of the land. He wanted to know who we are, what we were doing here, who gave us permission to be here...etc. Of course, I mentioned the guy who knew the "why" and "what" to all the questions. Of course, he didn't know who the hell Woody was either!! But he was a nice enough guy and said we could camp there as long as we cleaned up after ourselves and didn't shoot his cows, which we were in agreement with. Then I decided I would fill him in on the discovery we had made while setting up camp. It was a dead cow that was laying about 30 feet from the camp and let me tell you guys, this sucker was ripe! This carcass had the vilest stench emanating from it; it was all you could do to keep from barfing all over the place. After he left, and all the other people in the crowd that had gathered to see the squatters had gone, we were busy setting up camp and cooking some chicken and sausage gumbo when Woody showed up and we gave him the scoop about the land owner and he said,"Oh no, I don't know the guy who owns the land. I know a guy who camps here from time to time". Oh! A guy who camps here, that's great!! Well, hell, I know a guy who pays $6000 to hunt at a camp in Canada, maybe I should just go up there unannouced and hunt their property! I didn't know that's how things are done. If so, I would be hunting all the nice places instead of hear at the dead cow camp! After setting up the generator and eating a great meal, we sacked out 'til morning. Woody At Camp The next morning we got up around 4 a.m. Woody was already up starting a fire and we were all ready for a good day of hunting. It was around 30� and looked like today would be the day to get that 12 pointer we had all dreamed about. Well, first of all, we didn't notice the 400 boats going by or we would have realized that either this was the greatest deer hunting area in Louisiana or it was duck hunting season. Well, I'm sorry to say, it was the latter. Duck hunters shooting, falling down in the woods, screaming, cursing, stomping and that was just getting to their blinds! If there were any ducks in there I'm sure they were too damn scared to move or died of heart failure before sunrise. Needless to say, we didn't see anything that morning. We got back to camp around 11 a.m. for some lunch and decided to put out a few trot lines just to see what we could get. Why not, a country boy can survive, right? If you can't kill a deer, catch a fish. Makes sense to me. Gene At Camp At about 3 p.m. after putting out the lines, we went back into the woods and sure enough, the duck hunters decided to wait them out and were still in the woods, crunching, sloshing around, and complaining, but ya gotta give it to them, they are persistent. And, of course, we saw nothing again. We got back to camp around 8 p.m. had a meal of hot dogs and settled down for a couple of hours. Woody said,"We need to run the trot lines", so we did and got a nice 11 lb. channel cat. We baited the hooks and went back to camp. Got to sleep around 10 p.m. Our Catch HONK! HONK! Bright lights right up against the camper!! What the hell? It's 3 a.m. where's my gun? Some idiot is about to find out what common courtesy is all about! Well, as you probably guessed, the duck hunters had decided that the boat ramp up the road, with its concrete and nice wide space, wasn't quite the perfect place to launch their boat, it was better ten feet from our camp where the hill drops off about 15ft. down a gulley and you have to floor it in 4wheel drive to pull the trailer out of the water. Yeah, we are dealing with brainiacs for sure! Well, it was time to get up anyway. We couldn't miss the chance to set in the woods and hear the life story of every idiot that could borrow a shotgun that weekend. Now, don't get me wrong, I have nothing against duck hunters. The type of duck hunters that I'm used to coming in contact with are somewhat intelligent people, with a little bit of respect for their fellow man. These back woods, redneck, retards would make their own mamas cover their heads in shame! But I guess it takes all kinds to make the world go 'round, right? Well, we got set on our stand about 5.30 a.m. and if I saw 20 ducks, I saw a hundred, fly right over my head....I could have knocked them out of the sky with a slingshot, but we were here to deer hunt and that's exactly what we did........and saw nothing, AGAIN. So, we checked the trotlines and got a couple more 7 to 8 pounders in the ice chest. We got back to camp around 11 a.m. and decided that was enough "fun" for this weekend. So we packed up the camp and was on the way home. I know what was on Gene's mind, probably the same thing that was on mine....(Five deer...MY ASS!) Home Popup '97 Rockwood About Me Photos Projects My Stories Links You can E~Mail Me here View My Guestbook Sign My Guestbook