The Wild Heart of Alabama: Fly Fishing for Redeye Bass with Dr. Matthew Lewis

Redeye bass (coosa shown) may be small, but as this photo shows they have plenty of heart to eat big poppers, and live in beautiful, wild places.

When you wade into a mountain stream north of Birmingham, Alabama, it’s hard not to feel like you’ve stepped into another world. The air is cooler, the water slides over smooth boulders, and the trees hang low and green. For a moment, it feels like the Smokies—but this is Alabama, and the fish flashing under the surface isn’t a trout. It’s something rarer, smaller, and every bit as fierce: the redeye bass.

No one knows that fish better than Dr. Matthew Lewis, or as he’s come to be known, Dr. Redeye. He literally wrote the book on them—Fly Fishing for Redeye Bass: An Adventure Across Southern Waters—and his research at Auburn University has helped unravel the genetics, habits, and conservation challenges of this overlooked species.

When we sat down for a long conversation about redeyes, I wanted to know everything—where to find them, what they eat, and why a 10-inch fish from a backwoods creek has captured the attention of biologists and fly anglers alike.

What Exactly Is a Redeye Bass?

“The term ‘redeye bass’ actually covers what we now know are seven distinct species,” Lewis explained. “They’re the smallest of the black bass, and each one is genetically unique. You’ve got the Coosa, Tallapoosa, Cahaba, and Black Warrior bass in Alabama, and then the Bartram’s, Chattahoochee, and Altamaha in Georgia and South Carolina. Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina are really the heart of their range. There’s a little bit that extends into Tennessee and North Carolina, but those three states are where most of them live.”

He compared them to another famous group of regional fish. “If you think about cutthroat trout in the western U.S., you’ve got all these different varieties—the Westslope, the Fine-Spotted, the Bonneville. Each drainage has its own unique form, even though they’re all still cutthroat. Redeye bass are kind of the same way. They’re all closely related, but they’ve each evolved separately in their own river system long enough to deserve their own name.”

Despite being the smallest black bass, redeyes are among the most beautiful. They thrive in clear, rocky headwaters—small mountain streams at the foothills of the Appalachians where cool, spring-fed water tumbles through boulders and riffles. “They’re just small little black bass that live in beautiful mountain streams,” Lewis said. “You don’t usually find them in big reservoirs or muddy creeks. They like clean, flowing water with plenty of rock—places that still feel wild.”

Visually, they’re striking. True redeye bass have olive-green backs, bronze flanks that shimmer in sunlight, red fins edged with white, and thin blue lines tracing their cheeks and gill plates. And, of course, their namesake: a brilliant red eye that glows in the light. But that eye can be misleading. “The red eye itself isn’t really diagnostic,” Lewis said. “A lot of fish can have red eyes—rock bass, juvenile smallmouths, even small Alabama bass. Sometimes it’s just a response to temperature or stress. That’s why we get so many photos from people saying, ‘I caught a redeye!’ and it turns out they didn’t.”

The author has found that a solid indicator of the bass in your net being a redeye is a smidge of blue “eye liner” shown here.

So how do you know when you’ve got the real thing? Lewis smiled and said, “Habitat tells the story. If you’re standing in a small, clear, rocky stream in the upper reaches of the Coosa, Tallapoosa, Cahaba, or Black Warrior drainages, and you catch a small bass that’s unusually colorful—that’s probably a redeye.”

Why Fish for a Small Bass?

That’s a fair question when Alabama is full of trophy largemouth and spotted bass. When I asked him why someone would want to chase a small mountain bass instead, Lewis laughed. “Yeah, I guess I won’t be too upset if not everybody jumps on the train,” he said. “That’ll just keep the waters nice and secluded for me.”

He admits redeye fishing is something different altogether—part science, part nostalgia. “It’s not about catching the biggest fish,” he said. “For me, it’s about that childlike enjoyment of getting in a creek in Alabama during the hot summer. The water’s cool, you’re not sweating, and it feels like you’re exploring somewhere new every time you go. Sometimes you are. You just wade these little mountain streams with a fly rod and throw a bug around to see what bites.”

Not every fish will be a redeye. “A lot of times you’ll catch panfish first—redbreast, bluegill, longears,” he said. “But every now and then, you can tell you’ve hooked something different. There’s a little more heft, a little more fight, and usually that means it’s a redeye.”

More than the fish themselves, it’s the places they live that keep drawing him back. “Those creeks are wild and natural,” Lewis said. “You don’t find a lot of places like that anymore, especially in Alabama. So much of the state’s been converted to agriculture or industry or housing. When you’re in those upper streams, it’s like you’re stepping into a part of Alabama that hasn’t changed in a hundred years.”

And that’s what makes them special. “These places still have all the pieces of wild Alabama,” he said. “The plants, the turtles, the crayfish, the snakes—you see it all when you’re out there. It’s a glimpse into what this state looked like before everything got so developed. That’s a big part of why I love fishing for them. The fish are beautiful, but so are the places they live.”

The Life of a Redeye Bass

Despite their beauty, redeyes remain one of the least studied bass species in North America. “They’re hard to reach, hard to sample, and they don’t attract the same attention as largemouth or smallmouth bass,” Lewis said. “But we do know a few things.”

Redeye bass spend most of their lives in small- to medium-sized streams, often far upstream of where other bass species live. They’re opportunistic feeders, eating mayflies, grasshoppers, and crayfish. “They love topwater insects,” Lewis said. “That’s why they’re so fun on a fly rod—they’re already looking up.”

They also grow slowly—painfully slowly. “They might take ten years to reach 11 or 12 inches,” he explained. “And that’s about as big as they get. It makes them vulnerable to overharvest, even if they seem plentiful.”

Conservation and Concern

By most official accounts, redeye bass are doing fine. The International Union for Conservation of Nature lists them as “Least Concern,” and Alabama anglers can legally keep up to ten per day. Lewis isn’t so sure that reflects reality.

“There are real declines happening, especially in the Cahaba and Black Warrior systems,” he said. “We’re seeing fewer pure fish and more hybrids with Alabama bass, probably due to habitat disturbance and sedimentation.”

To their credit, Lewis says the Alabama Department of Conservation and Natural Resources is paying attention. “They’ve started collecting broodstock and doing genetic testing so they can spawn pure redeyes in hatcheries if needed,” he said. “It’s encouraging work. But it’s a reminder that even a small, beautiful fish like this needs our attention.”

How to Catch a Redeye Bass

If you’ve ever chased bream in a creek, you already know most of what you need to catch redeyes. “They’re not tackle snobs,” Lewis laughed. “They’ll hit a little spinner, a beetle spin, or a small crankbait. I’ve seen plenty of guys catch them on drop-shot worms or those tiny Rebel crawfish plugs. You don’t have to overthink it. It’s just scaled-down bass fishing.”

Still, when he heads into the foothills, Lewis leaves the spinning rod at home. “For me, it’s all about the fly rod,” he said. “That’s where these fish really shine.” His favorite setup is simple—a seven-and-a-half-foot, two- or three-weight fiberglass rod paired with a small reel and floating line. “You don’t need anything fancy,” he said. “A $60 Cabela’s CGR rod and a cheap reel will get you started. The reel’s really just a line holder on these little creeks.”

He keeps his leader setup just as minimal. “I use a furled leader, about five to seven feet long, and then I tie on another foot and a half or two of regular six- or eight-pound mono,” he explained. “You don’t need to spend fifteen bucks on fancy tippet. Regular Trilene or Stren works just fine. For warmwater fishing, the fish don’t care.”

When it comes to flies, Lewis doesn’t hesitate. “Ninety percent of the time, I’m fishing a Boogle Bug Popper,” he said. “Yellow or chartreuse—those are the only two colors you really need. I like them because they’re tough. You can slap them against a rock, yank them out of a tree, and they’ll keep going. They’ve got good hooks and that hard, enamel coating over the cork body. They last.”

But the Boogle Bug isn’t the only Alabama-born topwater in his box. “Wade Blevins and his dad created the Sam’s One Bug,” Lewis said. “It’s just a little foam cylinder on a hook with some rubber legs, but it’s an incredible fly for redeyes and panfish. It’s light, simple, and it catches everything.”

A Coosa Redeye that fell for a Sam’s One Bug, a durable, high-floating Alabama-local, terrestrial pattern.

For what it’s worth, the Sam’s One Bug (S1B for short) became a staple pattern in my box after fishing a size 6 chartreuse version on the Tallapoosa on very memorable day with Alabama’s Rowell Guevara. I find a six to be a scooch big for serious redeye-only fishing, but the larger bug floats large bass nymphs well and holds a bit better in the event of spotted bass encounters.

Whether it’s a cork popper or a foam bug, his approach is the same. “If I’m in a small mountain stream, I just dead-drift it,” he said. “Cast it, let it land hard, and let it sit. Most of the time, a red-eye will crush it the instant it hits the water. If you start popping, you’ll spook more fish than you’ll catch.”

Lewis does carry a few other options for days when the topwater bite slows. “If they’re not looking up, I’ll go subsurface,” he said. “I like Brandon Baile’s hatchling crayfish pattern—it rides hook point up and looks just like the real thing. I’ll also throw a helgrammite imitation or a rubber-legged dragon, which is basically a little damsel fly nymph. Those three flies will get you through just about any situation.”

Where to Find Them

Finding redeyes takes a bit of old-fashioned exploration. They live above Alabama’s fall line, in the rocky Piedmont headwaters of river systems like the Coosa, Tallapoosa, Cahaba, and Black Warrior. “You really should just look at a map of Alabama and see where each of these river systems are, and then where the fall line is,” Lewis said. “Once you’re certain you’re in the upper reaches of those systems, start looking for the right habitat—large bedrock shoals, boulders, cobblestone bottoms, and underwater ledges. That’s what redeye country looks like.” He added that you can pick out those features from above using Google Earth or onX. “You can see what a shoal complex looks like, even from satellite imagery. Big slabs of bedrock and turquoise-colored, rock-bottom water are usually a good sign.”

But digital scouting, he warned, only gets you so far. “At some point, you’ve got to get in the truck, burn some gas, and go look,” he said. “Find a bridge crossing, hop out, and lay eyes on it. There’s just no substitute for getting out there and putting a lure—or a fly—in the water.” Some creeks will look perfect on a map but turn out to be dominated by Alabama Bass, while others you stumble onto by accident will turn out to be pure gold. “That’s part of the fun,” Lewis said. “You earn your fish by doing the legwork.”

Still, he’s careful not to give away too much. “Spot burning is a real issue,” he said. “These are small, sensitive systems, and too much pressure in one or two creeks can change the experience fast. The joy of it is in the discovery. These fish live in hundreds of little blue lines on the map, and the best ones are the ones you find yourself.”

For those just starting out, he suggests exploring areas that have plenty of public access and good water quality. “Talladega National Forest is a great jumping-off point,” he said. “So is Bankhead, or even DeSoto State Park. There’s a lot of water up there that’s protected, and a lot of it holds redeyes. You don’t need to know an exact spot—you just need to go.”

Why It Matters

Fishing for redeyes isn’t just about catching fish. It’s about rediscovering wild Alabama—one creek at a time. Every license sold and every fly flicked helps fund conservation through the Pittman-Robertson and Dingell-Johnson Acts, which funnel excise taxes on tackle and fuel back into habitat restoration and fisheries research.

“The more people who care about these fish, the better their chances,” Lewis said. “They’re part of what makes Alabama unique. They’re a living symbol of our rivers.”

They’re also, happily enough, a truck-load of fun, even if your big reservoir buddies might give you grief for “fishing at Petsmart” when you show off your 10” trophy.