That Hidden Zillertal Gem: Where the Trout Fight Dirty and the Views Steal Your Breath
Man, let me tell you about this stretch of river tucked way up in the Zillertal—18 kilometers of pure fishing magic, winding through mountains so sharp they look like they’ve been cut with a knife. Starts around 800 meters, climbs up to 1800, and the whole thing’s fed by snowmelt so crisp you’ll wanna bottle it. Oh, and that reservoir at the bottom?

 Schlegeisspeicher. Sounds fancy, but trust me, the fish don’t care.

Now, if you’re the type who likes to keep things chill—literally—those slow, glassy stretches near the top are dry fly heaven. I’ve lost count of how many brookies I’ve pulled from those little pools, their colors so bright they’d put a rainbow to shame. But here’s the thing: if you’re not careful, they’ll spit your fly back at you faster than you can say "rise." These trout? Ridiculously feisty. Like they’ve got something to prove.

But maybe you’re more of a "give me a challenge" angler. Good. Because once you hit the middle sections, it’s all boulders and whitewater, the kind of spots where Czech nymphing isn’t just fun—it’s survival. You’ll be hopping rocks like a mountain goat, and yeah, you might take a dunking or two (ask me how I know). Worth it, though. The browns in those pockets? Absolute tanks.

Oh! Almost forgot—if you’re feeling lazy (no judgment), the reservoir’s open for bellyboating. Float-plus motor, which sounds like overkill until you’re getting towed around by a rainbow with an attitude. Rentals are at Zum Schneider, but book ahead unless you wanna be the sad guy watching from shore.

Now, about permits: daily’s €35, which, honestly, isn’t bad for water this good. But here’s the kicker—you’ll need the Tirolerfischerei card too, €25 for two weeks. Annoying? Maybe. But it covers everywhere in Tyrol, so if you’re planning to hop around, it’s a steal.
One last thing—if you’re new here or just wanna max out your time, hire a guide. Seriously. I’ve fished this stretch for years, and I still learn something new every time I go out with one of the locals. They’ll show you the sneaky undercuts where the big boys hide, the spots even Google Maps misses.

Species? Mostly brook, brown, and rainbow trout, though I swear I’ve seen something suspiciously like a grayling flash by once or twice. But hey, maybe that’s just the altitude talking.

So yeah. Pack your waders, your patience, and maybe a spare rod (rock gardens happen). This place? It’s the kind of water that sticks with you—long after your boots dry out.