I went on a vacation last week. I was expressly told that it was not a fishing vacation. I pretended not to hear that. They caught me.
When Lake El Salto was impounded in the 1980s, they had to relocate multiple villages to higher ground to get them out of the way of the water. While villagers could build a new house nearby, it wasn’t always reasonable or possible to move all of their belongings and structures. Thus, depending on what time of year you fish there, you might find yourself dragging a Carolina Rig across a house foundation or flipping a jig at an old schoolhouse (pretty sure I once caught a five-pounder off a rarely-used wall-mounted pencil sharpener).
I’ve known my friend Chad Hallett since 2000 or 2001 and I’ve known his 14 year old son Fisher since before he was born. He’s a little ginger like my wife (although he outgrew her 2-3 years ago), so I’ve always looked on him with a bit of suspicion, but I like his parents so I figured he’d eventually get straightened out.