Cabo San Lucas
I flew out of Denver International Airport. At the various concourses, it seemed as if every fourth person had a fly rod attached to their carry on and all of those people sported various forms of fly fishing paraphernalia. On the plane, I counted at least six fly rods and sat across the aisle from a guy reading a popular fly fishing magazine. During the four hour flight, I occasionally took a peak at the articles that were mostly salt themed. I resisted the urge to talk to him because I wouldn't want someone to talk to me in the same situation. However, that didn't stop me from eavesdropping on various conversations on the plane. I heard about destinations, pangas, sailfish, grande roosterfish, ladyfish in the surf, and coastal dorado. All of this made sense as we were flying to the tip of the Baja Peninsula, an epicenter of inshore and offshore fly fishing. From the airport these anglers would disperse in various taxis to their destinations, outfitters, guides, and the fish of the lifetime that awaited them. I was simply part of the herd...
This time was different though, I didn't even pack a rod. I made the decision a few months earlier to simply enjoy the time with my extended family and relax. That choice was tested almost immediately as I sat on the beach watching multiple roosters blowing up bait in the surf. Rather than book a panga, I continued to sip on my pina colada, content.
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