Feed the Fish: Fall Fly Fishing for Bass on Alabama’s Cahaba River

An early-fall Cahaba Bass that fell for a small popper.

Fall in Alabama can feel like a tug-of-war. One minute you’re sipping coffee on the porch, thinking about chasing a buck you’ve got on camera, and the next you’re staring at your fly box, itching to hit the river. It’s that restless, in-between season when anglers can’t decide whether to grab a rifle or a rod, and according to Fly Fishing Alabama guide Stephen Rockarts, the fish are feeling that same shift. “Topwater is still in play 100%,” he said the last time we talked. “But it’s that time of year where you’ve got to figure it out a little—downsizing, paying attention to clarity, reading the water. Everything’s shifting.”

Downsizing and Getting Technical

Early fall on the Cahaba brings low, clear water—the kind that frustrate even experienced anglers. Rockarts said this is when subtlety wins. “You just keep it small. Downsize everything. See what they’ll feed on and figure them out,” he said. A smaller fly profile and lighter presentation can make all the difference when the fish are wary.

He’s been seeing good success with small topwater bugs and lightweight streamers, but his secret this time of year isn’t necessarily about fly selection—it’s patience and experimentation. “Sometimes you’ve got to play around with it,” he said. “Bass are starting to swell up for the winter, so they’re eating, but they’re picky about what they’ll hit.”

I told him I’d experienced the same thing last week when I dropped from a size 4 to a size 8 bug, and it was like flipping a switch. Suddenly, the bluegill were back on, and the bass weren’t far behind. Stephen laughed, saying that kind of adjustment is what this season’s all about.

Thinking Like a Fish

Rockarts likes to mix it up between poppers, nymphs, and small streamers—especially during these shoulder months when the water is low and clear and the bass are shifting from summer habits to fall feeding. “Something about two or three inches long—jerk flies, deer hair flies—stuff you can pop real quick,” he said. Right now, he’s keying in on baitfish patterns because “there’s a lot of shad, and bass are chasing that same size.”

This time of year, the Cahaba is alive with movement. Shad flash in the current, dragonflies still skim the surface, and small baitfish school up in the pockets of deeper water. Rockarts says it’s less about perfectly imitating one of those food sources and more about capturing their energy. “We’re not fishing for trout,” he said. “You just want something close enough to the real thing in size and movement. Color helps, but it’s not everything.”

The way a fly moves through the water—the pause, the twitch, the sudden burst of motion—can make or break the take. Rockarts likes to throw his streamers on floating line with a long leader, letting them hover just under the surface and dart like a wounded baitfish. “It doesn’t have to be perfect,” he said. “You just want it to look like an easy meal.”

For anglers who love to blend bluegill and bass tactics, he recommends dragonfly nymph patterns or anything that hints at an emerging bug or a small creature trying to break free from the weeds. “Bass eat those like candy,” he said. “If you’re throwing little bluegill bugs, don’t be surprised if a big bass comes up and smokes it.” Those opportunistic strikes, he explained, are part of what makes this season so exciting. “They’re feeding on instinct right now. You’ve just got to give them something worth chasing.”

Scouting and Remembering

Rockarts believes fall’s low water is the best time to scout new runs. “If you can find where your deep pools and pockets are now, it’ll pay off tenfold in winter and spring,” he said. While he doesn’t rely much on GPS or tech, he encourages newer anglers to log what they find. “I used to keep a log for everything, but now I just remember. Every fish, every spot, every fight—it’s all in my head. But when you’re learning, write it down. It’s a great way to learn how fish move in a river.”

He’s right. Experience is a kind of map you can’t buy. The more time you spend wading the same stretch of creek, the more it starts to feel like your backyard pond.

Slow Down and Watch

Rockarts believes fall’s low water is the best time to scout new runs—and not just for the sake of finding fish. When the river drops to its bare bones, it reveals its secrets. “If you can find where your deep pools and pockets are now, it’ll pay off tenfold in winter and spring,” he said. The rocks that usually stay hidden under murky water show their edges. The bends and drop-offs that hold fish in summer stand out clearly against the sand and gravel. Every scar in the riverbed tells you something about how the current works, where food drifts, and where bass tuck in when the flow returns.

While Rockarts doesn’t rely much on GPS or tech, he encourages newer anglers to document what they see. “I used to keep a log for everything, but now I just remember,” he said. “Every fish, every spot, every fight—it’s all in my head. But when you’re learning, write it down. It’s a great way to learn how fish move in a river.” For those still getting familiar with their home waters, he suggests taking photos, dropping pins, or even sketching rough maps after each trip. Patterns start to appear over time—the way a pool shifts from one season to the next, or how a sandbar grows after a big flood.

But memory, Rockarts insists, eventually replaces notes. “After enough days out here, you just know,” he said. “You can feel where the fish ought to be before you even make a cast.”

He’s right. Experience is a kind of map you can’t buy. The more time you spend wading the same stretch of creek, the more you learn its moods—the way a certain run sounds when it’s just right, or how the light hits a pool before the bite turns on. Before long, that stretch of river starts to feel like your backyard pond, and the fish feel less like strangers and more like neighbors you’ve come to know.

Feed the Fish

By the end of our talk, Stephen summed it all up in the simplest way possible. “Find the food, find the fish,” he said. “Feed the fish.”

It’s a phrase that sticks with you because it captures everything fly fishing really is—a conversation between patience and motion, between observation and instinct. Whether you’re chasing a two-pound bluegill or a river smallmouth that fights like it’s twice its size, the lesson is the same. Slow down, watch, and feed the fish.

If you want to book a trip with Stephen Rockarts and see the Cahaba River through his eyes, check out Fly Fishing Alabama.