Fly Fishing for Smallmouth Bass on the Buffalo River with Guide Ben Levin

“Smallmouth” bass still have a pretty good maw on them!

If you ask Ben Levin where he’d cast his final fly, the answer comes quickly: smallmouth bass on the Buffalo River. As the owner of Fly South Adventures and a seasoned Arkansas guide, Levin has spent decades exploring the streams, hollows, and bluffs of the Ozarks, chasing native fish through some of the South’s most stunning landscapes. And while he’s traveled the world with a rod in hand, it’s the Buffalo River’s wild, rugged charm—and the smallmouth bass that call it home—that keep him coming back.

Ben grew up in the remote hills north of Clarksville, Arkansas, where creeks cut through limestone and the fish were never far away. His first fish was a smallmouth caught right behind his house, and that early memory shaped a lifelong obsession. After graduating from the University of Arkansas, he started guiding full-time for trout and smallmouth across the state. Today, he spends much of his time on the Buffalo River—America’s first national river and one of the most unique places to fly fish for smallmouth bass in the South.

The Setting: Wild, Quiet, and Perfect for a Fly Rod

The Buffalo River is a place that feels untouched by time. Flowing for roughly 125 miles through northern Arkansas before merging with the White River, it winds through a corridor of protected land that has never been dammed, mined, or heavily developed. In fact, it holds a unique distinction as America’s first National River, a title it earned in 1972 when Congress moved to preserve it as one of the last free-flowing rivers in the lower forty-eight. That decision protected not only the river’s wild character but also the mosaic of hardwood forests, limestone bluffs, and crystal-clear tributaries that define the Ozark landscape.

Ben calls it a “living postcard,” a river that changes character with every bend. One moment, it might flow quietly beneath a towering 400-foot bluff, the next it spreads wide over a gravel flat where deer, herons, and river otters share the banks. “It’s like a smaller version of the Appalachians,” Ben says. “You’ve got high ridges, steep hollows, and these incredible valleys full of clear water and rock bluffs. It’s wild, but it’s also welcoming. There’s nothing else quite like it in the South.”

He divides the river into three distinct sections. The upper Buffalo, near Ponca and Jasper, is the most dramatic—high-walled cliffs, waterfalls tumbling from side hollows, and water so clear it looks tropical. It’s the part that draws photographers, hikers, and paddlers from all over the country. But in late summer it often runs too low to float, leaving pools separated by shallow riffles. The middle section, downstream toward the Highway 14 bridge, carries a steadier flow and offers a balance between scenery and fishing, with more consistent smallmouth numbers and a wider variety of habitat.

The lower Buffalo, stretching from the Highway 14 bridge to its confluence with the White River, is Ben’s favorite stretch and his home water. “That’s where I do most of my guiding,” he says. “It’s got consistent flow, lots of food, and some of the biggest smallmouth in the river.” This is where the Buffalo starts to mellow out, trading steep canyons for open valleys and fertile banks lined with sycamores and willows. The bluffs are smaller but no less beautiful, and the fishing is as steady as the flow.

Floating is the best way to experience it all. “A canoe fits the place perfectly,” Ben says. “It’s quiet, it’s traditional, and it’s been used here for generations. When the water’s higher in spring, I’ll row a drift boat, but once it drops, nothing beats a canoe for slipping through shallow runs and gravel bars.” To him, part of the magic of fly fishing for smallmouth bass on the Buffalo is that you’re immersing yourself in a landscape that still feels truly wild, a rare experience today.

The Approach: How to Fly Fish for Smallmouth Bass on the Buffalo River

Ben’s fly fishing strategy changes with the seasons, but his philosophy stays the same—be ready to cover every part of the water column, and let the fish tell you what they want. In early spring, when the Buffalo runs high and cold, he calls it “dredge season.” The smallmouth are sluggish then, holding close to the bottom among boulders and ledges, so Ben focuses deep. He fishes heavy crayfish imitations and weighted Clouser Minnows, crawling them slowly along the gravel, almost like working a jig. “That’s when you earn every bite,” he says. “You’re dragging flies through cold water, feeling for that subtle thump that tells you a smallmouth just inhaled it.”

As spring rolls into April and May, the river begins to wake up. The water warms, insects hatch, and baitfish start schooling in the eddies. That’s when Ben transitions to streamers—five- to seven-inch baitfish patterns with a little flash and movement, often articulated for extra lifelike action. He fishes them on intermediate or sink-tip lines, swinging them through runs and stripping them along current seams. “The key is speed control,” he says. “Sometimes they want it ripped like it’s trying to escape, and other times they want it crawling and wounded.”

By the time summer settles in, the Buffalo’s water drops and clears, and the game changes completely. “That’s when the topwater bite comes alive,” Ben says. “Everyone’s favorite way to fish here is with poppers or deer-hair bugs. It’s fun, it’s visual, and it’s when the Buffalo really shows off.” Early mornings and late evenings are the prime windows, when bass prowl the shallows and hover beneath overhanging limbs, waiting for something to fall in. Ben likes foam poppers and big, buoyant bugs that can be worked aggressively without sinking. “If you can make it gurgle and spit just right, they’ll come out of nowhere and crush it,” he says.

Even during the heat of summer, he reminds anglers not to neglect the subsurface game. A lightly weighted streamer swung through the shade line of a bluff wall or the tail of a pool can still draw strikes when the topwater bite fades. In the fall, when the water cools again and smallmouth feed heavily before winter, Ben returns to streamers and smaller crawfish patterns, matching the river’s natural tones—olive, brown, and rusty orange.

Throughout the year, his guiding principle is simplicity and awareness. “Don’t overcomplicate it,” Ben says.

The Fish: Wild and Worth Protecting

The Buffalo’s smallmouth are 100% wild. Most run eight to twelve inches, but fish in the sixteen- to eighteen-inch range are considered trophies, and a true twenty-incher is a lifetime fish. “They grow slow here,” Ben explains, “but they’re strong and beautiful. Every one of them earned its place.”

Catch-and-release is a shared ethic among Buffalo anglers. “Those fish have more value alive,” Ben says. “We always encourage people to let them go.”

Planning Your Trip

Ben recommends checking the USGS gauge near St. Joe before launching. “Six to eight hundred cubic feet per second is perfect flow,” he says. “Below 150, you’ll drag canoes. Above 6,000, it’s time to stay home.” The river is lined with National Park Service access points about every ten miles, and nearby towns like Jasper, Yellville, and Mountain Home offer cabins, campsites, and small lodges.

The best time for fly fishing for smallmouth bass on the Buffalo is April through June, when water levels and temperatures line up perfectly. Summer brings great topwater action, while fall offers solitude and striking colors.

Why It Matters

For Ben Levin, the Buffalo River isn’t just another guide destination—it’s part of who he is. “You come for the fishing,” he says, “but what you remember is the silence, the bluffs, and those wild smallmouth that belong here as much as the water and rock do.”