The Passion
Living the Good Life
by Bruce Callis Jr
Passion, the dictionary defines it as any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling, a strong affection: love, or a strong or extravagant fondness, enthusiasm, or desire for anything. And when it comes to fishing, it is so true for everyone of us who enjoy being out on the water or the bank from sun up to sunset. Soaking a worm on a hook under a bobber or casting out our favorite artificial lure in hopes of a large fish biting.
For it’s the tug that is the drug. To feel the largemouth bass pick up our lure and to set the hook, when it slams our moving bait so hard it almost rips the road out of our hand, or to watch it devour our topwater bait as it comes over the water, it is what drives us to keep going and trying. It is more than just a passion, it is a way of life. We aren’t happy if we aren’t out there.
You know you have it bad when you are driving down the road and you pass any body of water and your first thoughts are of what bait you would throw first and where. And 99% of the time, you have the gear with you to make it happen. That’s passion and you are hooked.
I remember growing up. My first memory is of going to my grandparent’s house on the farm and riding over to the mill pond there with my grandfather and dad. Using a cane pole with worms we dug up on the farm, we fished for whatever would bite standing on the bank. Watching that bobber, waiting for the bite, watching it start to pop up and down, producing ripples that flowed out until finally it went under and lifting the pole up to set the hook. They were mostly bluegills and crappie with an occasional small largemouth, but it didn’t matter, as it was such a thrill. The days of summer and being a kid!
That thrill lead to even more. Granted, we didn’t do as much freshwater fishing, but fishing was a part of life. We would go over to the same area where my mom had me out on the dock of the fish house as an infant. We would fish off the piers there, mostly for white perch and catfish. Of course, sometimes we would be greeted with a nice yellow perch as well. My grandfather would roll up his pants legs and hop over and use a net to get some grass shrimp for us to fish with along with the peelers we had gotten. If we went across the road, there we empty warehouses that had a dock and mom would use a hand-line and fish for catfish. She always said that she had better feel for the bite on that green cotton line.
But since we lived in the city now, we spent the summer at a campground that had a small pond on it. It also had an in ground sand bottom swimming pool. Many a day was spent at the pond. My favorite lure was an inline spinnerbait, much like a Mepps, but was usually bought at Western Auto or a local marine center. I can even remember that they were usually 2 for a whole dollar or 59 cents a piece. Caught my first chain pickerel in that pond on a yellow one. Somewhere there is a picture of it.
And during the school year, we would be down on most weekends. Boy Scouts was also a great adventure. I remember that our Boy Scout Troop also had some tournament anglers come out and talk with us about fishing. We even formed a Junior Bass Angler Club. We learned a lot from them, even about a Texas rigged worm. And the toothpick trick to peg our weights. We even had a tournament. I remember I didn’t do great, but I had an awesome time. Further fueling that passion.
And once I got a drivers license, I remember going to the James River and attempting to wade out during the summer and fish. It was a learning experience as I walked through water, sometimes up to my waist trying to find a bass. A few times I remember finding a deep hole and going under, losing my sunglasses, but holding tight to my fishing gear. A dollar pair of sunglasses could be replaced easily, but not the fishing gear.
The passion was strong, and the chances we would take to get to the spot we would want to fish made it fun. We were young and foolish, and we did some crazy things that we didn’t think were as dangerous as they were. Walking across the Z Dam on the James River over to Williams Island didn’t seem dangerous, but now we know better. It was all about finding a bass.
Family came, but the desire to fish never left. Once I had kids, it was about passing on the passion. I remember taking my kids fishing when I lived in Florida. Something about watching them catch their first fish. Reminded me about my first. I even fished some tournaments with my brother David while down there. We won some and we lost some, but we were having fun!
Today, that passion is still so very strong. I fish more tournaments now, even fishing some BFLs. I’ve traveled out to Smith Mountain Lake to fish in the Big Bass Bash and Lake Anna to fish a few tournaments. My passion lead to something that I never thought I would ever do, writing about fishing. It all started with a lady, the editor of the local newspaper who knew I fished, asking me to write a weekly column. It took her almost a year to convince me to give it a try. Now I can’t see me not doing it.
Bank fishing has lead to volunteering with the Friends Group of the Rappahannock River Valley National Wildlife Refuge. The lady who was the president of the group wanted me to help out with the Free Kids Fishing Day they were having. Unlike writing, this one I said yes to right away. Now, it is one of those highlights I look forward to every year.
And back in 2014, I started to write for Brian Carter and The BassCast.com. I stepped further out and let my passion for fishing tell the stories. Through my passion I have had the privilege of meeting some amazing people. Through my writing I got to meet Jacob Stephens, John Crews, Gerald Swindle, KVD, and so many other great people. I have also been able to attend many Bassmaster Classics because of Brian. And the local fishing shows have taken on new meanings! The future holds many more adventures.
And through Facebook, I also got to meet Snookie Risch. The group I belonged to did a monthly online tournament, much like the kayak anglers do. We would summit pictures on a measuring board. We would also hold an in-person tournament twice a year, spring and fall. Snookie wanted to fish one of those fall tournaments in honor of her grandfather and they paired her up with me. We fished hard all day and we have been fishing together every since. Who would have thought fishing would lead to finding a great friend and bestie.
We all have that passion, that is why we are here and why we don’t stop. But that passion has to be given to us by others. My parents and grandparents introduced it to me, and life made it grow stronger. We need to pass it on, to our children and to anyone that is will. The kids are our future and it’s up to us to do everything we can to give them the opportunity to find that passion. Who will be the next Bassmaster Classic Champion? Will it be some kid that we helped fuel their passion? Time will tell.
