Chasing Winter Cats in a Rapidly Rising River: Real-World Tips from Spencer Bauer

Why Winter Catfishing Has Its Own Personality

In the warmer months, catfish spread out, and you might think they’re easy to find with typical baits and presentations. Come winter, though, everything changes. Even Spencer, known for his relentless pursuit of fish in any conditions, acknowledges that this cold-water scenario can test the patience of the most seasoned angler. The fish move differently, hold tighter to structure, and often feed in short bursts.

What caught our attention in Spencer’s latest trek is how the river’s surge—several feet in a short span—creates a whole new playground. Rising water carries debris and stirs up the bottom, effectively ringing the dinner bell for catfish. But it also means the catfish might reposition faster than you can say “snag.” Instead of drifting along in search of a meal, they may hunker in specific current seams where they can grab unsuspecting baitfish. Combine that with a cold front, and you have the makings of a high-risk, high-reward catfishing adventure that only the bravest (or most enthusiastic) anglers attempt.

Yet, there’s a certain peace to it, too. You don’t see crowds out here at this time of year. It’s just you, the swirling current, and the occasional goose honking overhead. Sure, the sun may set way too early, but you’d be surprised how much you can learn about a river—and yourself—when the usual distractions are gone. There’s also something about hooking into a catfish on a biting-cold day that amplifies the thrill. That single tug on the line can warm your heart enough to make you forget you can’t feel your toes.

Gearing Up for Tough Conditions

From our perspective, it’s easy to see why Spencer trusts gear designed for a real battle. Winter catfishing on a rising river is no place for flimsy rods or line that’s prone to break off. You need the kind of setup that not only muscles a hefty fish out of a submerged log but also holds up to constant abrasion from debris-laden water.

• Heavy-Duty Rods: Spencer’s partial to the Hellcat rod from Catch The Fever. It’s built for big fish, with the backbone to yank a stubborn cat out of the timber.
• High-Powered Reels & Braid: Pair that rod with a good catfish reel spooled with some Slimeline, and you’ll have the confidence to tackle strong currents and sudden surges. As you’ll see in the video, one good takedown in a swift river can test all your rigging and your nerve.
• Hooks for the Fish’s Mood: Circle hooks are Spencer’s usual choice, especially for blue cats that like to hit bait hard. But if winter flatheads are pecking and won’t fully commit, he might experiment with J-hooks so he can time the hookset himself.

This kind of setup does more than just catch fish; it saves you from constantly re-rigging after every snag. And let’s be honest: snags are part of the territory when timber and debris abound. We appreciate how Spencer remains unflustered by each break-off; it’s all part of the plan when hunting trophy cats in conditions that aren’t for the faint of heart.

Going the Extra Mile (or Two) Upriver

One of the most eye-opening parts of Spencer’s adventure is how far he’ll paddle upstream to reach what he hopes are unpressured spots. It’s clear he’s chasing the bigger payoff in a location that might be overlooked by more casual anglers. We’ve all wrestled with that mental debate: “Is it worth the extra effort?” If you’re someone who’d rather not break a sweat (especially in frigid weather), it’s easy to say no. But if you share Spencer’s drive, you’ll relate to the logic—sometimes, the best fish are found where others won’t (or can’t) venture.

In the video, the wind and current make it look downright brutal, but the moment he drops anchor and sees a promising stretch of timber, there’s real excitement in his voice. You can’t help but think, “Alright, maybe I should try that next time.” And honestly, even though we’re a company that loves seeing anglers succeed, we’ve got to admire the determination it takes to motor upstream under those conditions. If you’re bold enough to test yourself, you might just find a logjam holding a catfish that’s never seen a hook in its life.

Submerged Timber: The Siren’s Call for Catfish (and Snags)

We can confirm, based on countless conversations with anglers, that catfish love structure, particularly in colder months. So it’s no surprise Spencer zeroes in on half-sunken logs and branches. The payoff can be huge, but so can the frustration when you snag in the thick of it. If you watch closely, you’ll see him tie up near a wobbly branch and drop a bait right into the underwater maze.

A key tactic he mentions is using a sinker dropper—a lighter piece of line connecting the sinker—so that if you snag, there’s a decent chance you’ll lose only the weight and keep your hook. This might sound like a small detail, but it saves both time and money over the course of a day. It also keeps morale up. If you’ve ever spent a winter afternoon rigging and re-rigging, you know how quickly you can convince yourself to call it quits. By minimizing the damage a snag can do, you’re free to keep the lines in the water longer.

We also appreciate Spencer’s mention of adjusting your drag and angle to yank a hooked fish away from the structure quickly. Let’s face it: once a cat wraps you around a log, your odds of landing it plummet. Being proactive—tightening that drag, keeping pressure on, and steering the fish out—makes all the difference. It’s a calculated gamble: tighten too much, and you risk a break-off; give too much slack, and the fish is gone. Balancing those elements is part of the fun, and part of the frustration, but it’s why we love the chase.

Circle Hooks vs. Shy Flatheads: The Winter Dilemma

If you’ve tuned in to Spencer’s River Certified channel before, you know he’s a big advocate of circle hooks. They’re a godsend for catfish that hit hard and run. But in winter, especially with lethargic or shy flatheads, circle hooks can leave you watching a series of half-bites. The rod tip bobs, but never loads, because the fish doesn’t commit.

From our vantage point, it’s fascinating to see how a seasoned angler like Spencer still grapples with the question: “Should I reel down early, or wait for the fish to bury the rod?” And if the fish never buries the rod, you’re left reeling up an empty hook. That’s when a well-timed manual hookset using a J-hook or Kahle might score where the circle hook couldn’t.

Of course, there’s no one-size-fits-all answer. Some days, a sluggish winter cat will still hammer your bait, and a circle hook is perfect. Other days, they’ll toy with your presentation like they’re window-shopping. The key is recognizing those subtle bites and adapting on the fly, something Spencer demonstrates repeatedly in the video. It’s an art form any winter catfish enthusiast can appreciate.

Shifting Spots: The Power of Quick Decisions

One aspect of Spencer’s approach that resonates with us is his willingness to move on if a spot doesn’t produce within 15 or 20 minutes. Winter days are short, and that window of opportunity can vanish fast if you sit around waiting for fish that might not be there. Sure, if you see a nibble, you might hang out a little longer, but it’s a balancing act between patience and efficiency.

He’s quick to note that the same rising current causing debris to float by can also shift fish from one snag to another. By covering more ground—well, more water—he improves his odds of stumbling upon a group of actively feeding cats. We’ve all had that experience where the first five spots flop, but the sixth location delivers a day-making fish. It’s a numbers game, especially in cold, unpredictable conditions.

Keeping fresh bait also matters. If you’re not getting bites, don’t be afraid to swap out that older chunk of shad for a fresher piece. Even in winter, when fish metabolisms slow, a new scent can trigger a reaction bite. Spencer’s video offers several instances where he repositions or changes baits with the hope of tempting a wary cat—advice anyone can benefit from when the weather (and the fish) refuse to cooperate.