After the in-depth article about the upcoming fly fishing season in Austria and showcasing the only fly shop in Vienna, plus a couple other short posts, it is time to change gears again.
Nonetheless, I have been racked with some thoughts about fishing lately — especially as we head into the summer and fall months. With the epic Brown Trout bite, classic Kokanee Salmon fishing, and the reliable high-country lake action, there are plenty of excellent opportunities out there for the dedicated angler squeezed in between summer family vacations and fall hunting trips.
With that said, it is a little depressing to be out of the state this time of year. Living abroad is great for many things and rough for others. One of the more interesting aspects about living abroad and exploring new countries is trying out new things when it comes to fishing. There is always a new technique to learn or a new approach to experiment with. That holds true back home in Colorado too, and for most fishermen — whether they’ve been fishing the same lake their whole lives, are just getting into fly fishing, or are a sponsored professional.
Sheer probability eventually leads us all to try something new. I can appreciate that. Trying new lures, new techniques, new gear, and new approaches can be incredibly rewarding. But on the other hand, when it comes to fishing, you also know what you like. You tend to stick with what has produced results in the past or what simply feels comfortable. If, on the other hand, out of necessity you have to learn something new just to be able to fish — or to gain a basic understanding of “how it’s done over here” (you fill in the blank with the local language and customs) — then it changes the entire experience. Eventually, you can become frantic just to catch a fish. Or in my particular case, you kind of give up on it after a while.
This was my mindset back in 2019. I had just moved to Austria and was eager to fish. I brought a handful of flies, a couple of favorite rods, and a lot of confidence from Colorado waters. What I found instead was a very different game. Different fish behavior, different regulations, different techniques that locals had perfected over generations, and — most humbling of all — a language barrier that made even simple conversations at the river tricky.
For the first season, I struggled. I fished hard but caught very little. The frustration built until one evening, standing in a beautiful alpine river with the mountains glowing pink at sunset, I realized I was no longer enjoying the process. I was chasing numbers instead of the experience. So I stepped back.
That pause turned out to be one of the best decisions I made. It forced me to slow down, observe more, and eventually fall in love with a new way of fishing — one that blended what I already knew with what the local waters demanded. Over time, those struggles became some of my most valuable lessons.
Now, years later, I still carry that mindset with me whether I’m fishing in Austria or back home in Colorado: stay curious, stay humble, and remember that sometimes the best bites come after you stop forcing them.
Tight lines, wherever your waters may be!
