Winter Bronzebacks

Winter smallmouth fishing is one of my favorite times of year. The crowds are gone, the world is quiet, and every fish feels earned. There’s no mindless casting, no burning crankbaits across the shallows hoping for a reaction bite. It’s slower, more deliberate—like the fish themselves. It just feels more rugged, raw, and real. And there we were, just a couple of stubborn men wading through a cold Tennessee creek, reading the water, searching for those bronze-backed ghosts tucked away in the deep.

The air had a bite to it, but nothing too brutal, just enough to remind you it was winter without punishing you for staying outside. The creek ran clear, the current slow but steady, cutting through stretches of gravel and smooth rock. Every step sent a swirl of silt into the flow, marking the path behind us.

My best friend and I moved with purpose, working jigs and soft plastics along the bottom, dragging them through the deeper pockets where the fish would be holed up. Winter smallmouth don’t chase near as often, but they still eat—if you make it easy for them.

I felt the pull before I knew quite what was happening—a sharp, deliberate bite. The kind that sends a jolt straight to your spine. A quick hookset, and suddenly, the day didn’t feel like winter anymore. The rod bent hard, the fish pulling against the current, shaking its head in stubborn defiance. Smallmouth don’t just fight—they brawl, even in the dead of winter.

The battle was short but fierce, and when I finally brought him in, I couldn’t help but grin. Bronze scales, thick and healthy, a fish that had seen a few seasons and made it through. I held him up for a moment, letting the light catch across his back, then eased him back into the water. He hesitated, then kicked hard, disappearing into the depths.

My buddy hooked up not long after—another solid fish, another reason to stay just a little longer. We knew we’d be sore tomorrow, legs aching from wading miles of riverbed, backs tight from standing in the current all day. But that’s just part of it.

Winter smallmouth fishing isn’t easy. It’s not always comfortable. But that’s what makes it worth it.