BY MIKE STEVENS
I know I’m not alone as a dude who likes to work in some level of fishing in the midst of non-fishing travel, but it wasn’t until recent years I really started doing it almost everywhere I went. The other day I was listening to a recent episode of the Cut and Retie Podcast, and host Joe Cermele touched on his appreciation of “weaving fishing time into a family vacation” in his opening monologue. He mentioned how it can be tricky, and it got me thinking of some of my victories in this department.
Grand Cayman
No kids on this one, but it was definitely a married couple trip first and foremost, but there was no way I was not bringing a 4-piece travel rod and a box of “kinda works everywhere stuff” in a single Plano tray. I filled that box with various plastic swimbaits that got no play at home, a few Krocodile spoons, jerkbaits and these bucktail jigs that had a “Florida flats” look to them. My sneak-out fishing options included various beaches and a dock at the condo complex I was staying at. Grand Cayman is a world-renowned diving and snorkeling destination, so they don’t go out of their way to allow you to harass inshore fish.
Most docks sport “no fishing” signs and are of-course surrounded by huge tarpon that will eat French fries tossed their way. Still, I managed to catch a few “grunts” (what they call various reef fish) and small barracuda while casting a Kroc from the beach toward one of those docks. I also hooked a small tarpon with a Shimano Waxwing I was casting from the resort dock (where fishing was allowed, or at least, no one said anything) that bolted about 30 yards left to right in about 2 seconds before spitting the hook. The only reason I knew it was a tarpon is it jumped 4 feet out of the water after freeing itself. That was cool because it’s always better to at least see what it was that got the best of you.
Cabo San Lucas
Armed with the same “go anywhere” kit, I found myself in Cabo with a group of about 30 childhood friends all celebrating our 40th birthday year in some all-inclusive monstrosity. But, it was on the beach, and I knew I’d get my chances to sneak off to cast from the sand. I spotted some exposed rocks within casting range about 100 yards north of the hotel. I deployed the same Krocodile and stuck a small Jack Crevalle which had my drag screaming, a handful of pompano and these weird-looking fish called “lookdowns.” At this point, I was starting to realize I can fish just about anywhere (in saltwater anyway) with a ¾-ounce Krocodile.
Montana
Bringing fishing gear to Montana is a no-brainer, but I was up there for a family reunion where every hour for four days of family events between Bozeman and Missoula is spoken for. I wasn’t able to hit the water there in A River Runs Through It country, but my wife parlayed the trip into a post-reunion visit of a childhood friend who lives a couple hours away in Billings and has a cabin on a creek in Red Lodge. Still on a mission to keep all fishing gear in my regular luggage, I had a 4-piece fly rod and basic fly-fishing tackle in tow. I packed a travel ultralight spin outfit and some lures but, I was in Montana, right? So that stuff never saw the light of day.
At the creek in Red Lodge, a parachute black gnat had small wild rainbows bolting straight up after them, even on my clumsiest casts and sloppiest drag-full drifts. It was so easy, our friend and her kids came out with fly rods to give it a whirl. Turned out, being Montana residents with endless world-class options, they never spent much time on the creek that was so close to their cabin you would fall into it if you stumbled off their back deck.
The next day, they surprised me by hooking me up with her dad who was going to basically guide me on the Stillwater River (which is anything but “still,” we whitewater rafted it the next day) from a 2-man pontoon. Throwing a double-dry rig with a pair of pinky-sized Chernobyl Ants, I stuck a few 12-inch wild rainbows, some accidental whitefish, and I saw a butter brown that would have easily been a personal best come up and follow those bugs only to give me a big-fat Montana denial.
Michigan
With in-laws within a half hour of the smallmouth bass capital of the universe – Lake St Clair – I have actually fished Michigan for real. That is to say, a planned trip with a guide. But I’ve yet to bring fishing gear of my own to Michigan. Those in-laws live across the street from a farm pond that I can see from their living room, but it was on private property. That is, it was every other time I went up there prior to last October when I went up for a wedding and found out the property had been sold and it’s now part of a public park.
Being in Michigan, I figured I could find some old gear in the garage that would work, and I was right, but it was ancient, neglected stuff. Out of the 20 or so rods and reels, I put together a combo that would function albeit with crusty, coiled up line. Assuming panfish would be the easiest target, I looked everywhere for small jigs and couldn’t find any among all the bass if not musky gear. What I did find was weighted flies and some weird floats that were anything but your standard bobber.
Casting was a challenge, but fish were present and eventually caught. Tiny bluegill of the “palm size” class, but it was all good. I finally got to fish that pond, and there’s something to be said about catching fish with a mish-mash collection of dusty-old garage gear piled up in the corner.
For more info on the “go everywhere kit” I built for these purposes (at least, the saltwater version) click HERE. I have a different rod and reel now, but the base kit remains mostly unchanged.
