{"id":25247,"date":"2021-06-04T13:00:30","date_gmt":"2021-06-04T20:00:30","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=25247"},"modified":"2021-06-25T13:34:36","modified_gmt":"2021-06-25T20:34:36","slug":"chasing-roosterfish-dreams-in-baja","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2021\/06\/04\/chasing-roosterfish-dreams-in-baja\/","title":{"rendered":"Chasing Roosterfish Dreams in Baja"},"content":{"rendered":"

When I drove through Baja in 2019, my mind was focused on places farther south and I didn\u2019t properly dig into the fishing. I walked shorelines and caught new species on my fly rod, but it was a slow month and the big game fish simply weren\u2019t around. In a last-ditch effort, I had tried to hire a guide. He refused to take me for a day because there were no fish. So, I enjoyed the food and camped on the ocean where lowkey days and beautiful sunsets made it easy to settle into a full-time travel routine.<\/p>\n

After leaving, the Baja landscape held a place in the back of my mind. I would think about the desert mountains, mangroves and remote beaches while researching the places I hadn\u2019t yet touched. I dreamt about a more focused road trip after finishing my trek through Central and South America, but that dream dissolved into a disastrous year with Covid closures and the abduction of my dog, Shale.<\/p>\n

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Shale dog was snatched from my campsite on the Blackfoot River on July 5th<\/sup>, and the remainder of the summer morphed into a desperate search. I declined an invite to raft the Grand Canyon afraid that I would miss a chance at finding her. Instead, I planned to park my camper on a piece of BLM somewhere in the southwest where I could have cell service and continue my online search, calls to veterinarians and shelters while staying within easy driving range of the western states where I guessed she was being held.<\/p>\n

By December, I found myself burnt out, emotionally empty and in need of a reset. On the brink of lost hope, I started packing for a lucky draw archery hunt in Nevada when my phone rang. Shale\u2019s microchip had been scanned, said the vet on the phone. I drove straight to the airport in Reno while arguing with her captor and intervening law enforcement to return her. A few hours later, I snuggled Shale\u2019s fur at the Minneapolis airport.<\/p>\n

Five months of separation had zero impact on the deep bond I share with Shale. We moved forward and enjoyed many moments of relief, but we had lost our rhythm. She had gained 25-pounds and lost serious mobility, to the extent that she struggled to stand on a hardwood floor. We started with short walks and camping in Nevada, spending the nights cuddled in my small camper bed. It was a slow process to normalization.<\/p>\n

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I was still considering a southwest road trip when a fish picture from Baja caught my attention on Instagram. I reached out to the friend of a friend and he said the land borders and beaches were open. I decided to shotgun a two-week winter fishing trip with Shale dog.<\/p>\n

We hit the road, skipping the normal southern stops to see friends and pressed through the border and northern half of Baja, camping for two nights on the Pacific before cutting across the peninsula to Loreto Bay and the Sea of Cortez. We were still out of sync and Shale wasn\u2019t her normal confident self. Unsure of her body and capabilities, she avoided the ocean surf but still managed to take control of her territory around the camper while playing with the local dogs.<\/p>\n

Loreto Bay is a special place that feels more like a large lake than an ocean. Mountains and islands surround the bay creating safe harbor for migrating whales while supporting a robust inshore fishery. I\u2019d walked a few beaches on the last trip and caught fish but this time around was different. I was armed with an inflatable kayak that completely changed the game. I could pack it down small and have a stable fishing platform with a few short minutes of setup.<\/p>\n