CONSERVATION SOUTHERN RENAISSANCE THE PURSUIT OF BASS DRIVES WATERSHED-LEVEL CONSERVATION Words Matt Lewis, PhD T • TOP TO BOTTOM • A trophy-sized redeye bass caught by Casey Nowell in a small tributary of the Coosa River system. The vibrant red hues of the fins along with the blue accents are unlike those found on any other bass species. Photo: Chad J. Hoffman Matthew Lewis practices a slow upstream approach, paramount when fishing the clear, shallow streams of Alabama’s Talladega National Forest. The tapestry of freshly bloomed mountain laurel envelops the clear waters in early spring and provides the perfect setting for anglers in pursuit of redeye bass. Photo: George Constantine he phrase “heading south” typically refers to a time when things begin to fail or take a turn for the worse. Euphemisms aside, the waters of the southeastern United States hold an unrivaled amount of freshwater biodiversity, including many species that can be caught with a fly rod. Despite Alabama’s designation as “America’s Amazon,” pursuing fish with a fly is still largely perceived as a sport reserved for the elite who chase tarpon in the Keys or the many species of salmonids out West. Thankfully, a culture is brewing among southern anglers that is built around the desire to celebrate the unique pursuit that is flyfishing for redeye bass. These cool-water stream specialists exist in the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains in Georgia, South Carolina and Tennessee, but Alabama is home to some of the largest populations and more species of redeye bass than the surrounding states. The redeye is often called the “brook trout of Alabama,” owing this distinction to their similarities in size, preference for breathtaking waters and bod-ies adorned with a palette of colors that are usually reserved for tropical reef inhabitants. Like brook trout, redeye bass have characteristic aggression that is a byproduct of living in the relatively unproductive mountain streams they call home. They cannot afford to pass up a potential meal. Within a millisecond of a popper hitting the water, they accelerate and often breach the water on the take. While the take is addic-tive, the real treat is the arena in which this occurs. Several national forests in Alabama are full of waterfalls, hidden canyons and many miles of clear water and hungry, colorful redeye bass. These places are special because they are the last vestiges of wil-derness that we have left in the state. There are no guardrails or concrete steps to help one experience a taste of adventure, just the unaltered real thing. Armed with only a 3-weight, I seek respite in these places. The trickling sound of water rushing over riffles and falling over ancient bedrock is soothing to the ears, while lush streamsides flanked with bloom-ing mountain laurel appeal to the eyes. A shooting pain from walking into a briar thicket interrupts my musings. A snake spooked by my thrashing is a gentle reminder that I am not dreaming. Forging new trails and scaling rocky cliffs lead to a battered and bruised body. Here, you are physically tested, and sometimes pushed to your limits, all for a fish that might never reach a foot in length. One of the beauties of flyfishing for redeyes is the simplicity. There are no volumes written about chas-ing them, no mass-marketing campaigns geared to the pursuit. Being the smallest member of the black bass family, flyfishing for redeye bass encapsulates the joy of catching a beautiful native fish in some of the most wild and scenic waters the southeast has to offer. To promote the awareness of redeyes and their native waters, a grassroots movement—the Redeye Bass Slam—emerged in 2018 to challenge anglers to catch all four species of redeye bass in a calendar year. Successful completion of the Slam is commemorated with a custom certificate, but more importantly the pursuit is helping to educate anglers about watershed-level conservation and the intrinsic value of native fish. During the last couple of decades, we have learned of serious conservation threats to redeye bass across the southeast. In a region that prides itself on trophy angling for crappie, catfish and largemouth bass, most of the research dollars have followed those species over the years. This type of fisheries man-agement has left significant knowledge gaps in the geographically limited populations of less-popular sportfish like the redeye. We now know that many populations of redeye bass are declining due to hy-bridization with introduced bass species and in some cases with fellow natives. The latter can be facilitated by human-induced habitat changes such as turbidity, increased sedimentation and structures such as dams that fragment populations. 098 THE FLYFISH JOURNAL