Rookie Mistakes on Our Most Recent Trip to El Salto
Hanna and I are in the enviable position that we’ve been to Anglers Inn Lake El Salto so many times that we’ve lost count. Is it 15? Is it 20? Or somewhere in-between? That’s a legit first world problem to have, especially when you consider that our first visit in 2009 was meant to be a “once-in-a-lifetime” trip.
If you’ve read our “Ultimate Guide to El Salto and Picachos” it should be pretty obvious that we’ve spent hundreds of hours trying to figure out how to maximize every trip South of the Border, developing systems for everything from what to pack, to how to pack, to what to eat and lures to throw. It’s consistent with our goal of wringing every ounce of fun and efficiency out of each trip. Despite all of those best-laid plans, however, we still screw up at times. No trip is one hundred percent perfect, and that’s often due to operator error. We’ve decided to be transparent about our mistakes, hoping that you don’t end up repeating them. Here are some things I did less-than-perfectly on our last trip:
I Forgot Super Glue: This one seems minor, but invariably something ends up becoming loose or detached when it shouldn’t. In this case, I had two SPRO Rat tails come out, but hadn’t bothered to bring replacements. I substituted the tails of some trick worms, but needed an adhesive to hold them in place. Additionally, one of my rod guides came loose. I was able to tie it in place with some braided line, but needed a glue to seal it. I hadn’t packed any. Fortunately, several other members of our group did, and they saved my bacon.
Too Many Rods: Because we’d toted down a bunch of new rods to Anglers Inn, I wanted to try them all. For me, the perfect number of rods in the boat down there is four per person, but five is more realistic and allows you to cover a broader array of bases. Sometimes I end up with six. On this trip, for some reason, I consistently took seven. It made me a less efficient angler. Sure, I had to retie less often, but even with rod condoms they got a little tangled. More significantly, it changed my mindset. Rather than fishing hard with proven winners, I spent time swapping from one bait to another.
Stuck ElaZtech: I left a pack of Z-Man jig trailers in one of my permanent El Salto tackle bags, figuring that they’d conserve space as opposed to a larger number of regular plastic versions. My intentions were noble but my execution was not. I failed to account for the heat, and when I opened the pack to grab a trailer on the first day of fishing I realized they’d all melted together. Now, instead of five long-term trailers, I had none. Lucky for me, I had some other standard craws and chunks in my stash.
Protect Your Hands: I’m convinced that the bass at El Salto and Picachos, like the ones at Falcon, have more and/or sharper “teeth” than our northern strain largemouths. Even though the guides are happy to handle them all, even if you don’t unhook a single fish of your own you’ll still end up lifting some of them up as you smile for the camera. When fishing is extremely good – as it was this last trip – those camera sessions are frequent. After a couple of days you’ll dread them because your hands will be in pain. That’s the fortunate/unfortunate position I found myself in – if I’d had some band-aids or some sun gloves (which have the added benefit of protecting the back of your hands) that pain would have been lessened.
Nap Time: During the winter trips to El Salto, when it gets light early, I often don’t take a siesta, but at this time of year I’m all-in on a short snooze after lunch. We didn’t return from fishing until 7:45 pm, so by the time you put your stuff away, perhaps shower, and eat dinner, it’s time for bed, because you’ll be back up at 5am to eat breakfast and get on the water by first light. At 51, that drains me without a nap, particularly in the heat. The one day I failed to lie down for a bit I was less efficient on the water and grumpier by bedtime. Every other day I grabbed at least 60 minutes looking at the back of my eyelids.
And Hanna isn’t flawless either. You may accuse me of throwing her under the bus but I think upon reading this she’ll realize I’m right.
Make the Most of Topwater Time: Our topwater window produced some epic strikes and quality bass, but except for one day when the atypical clouds persisted into the morning, the surface bite was short-lived. We’d get 30 or 40 minutes, or maybe an hour, of Whopper Ploppin’ fun, and then it would die off. Several days she came to the boat without a topwater tied on, and spent the first few key minutes messing with tackle or her camera, or digging around looking for the right bait. That’s her prerogative, but notably I caught more fish on top than she did. If she’d spent 10 or 15 minutes the night before getting ready, she might’ve done better.
Learn from our mistakes and let us know yours so we don’t make them, too.
