A FLY FISHERMAN LIVING IN THE BIG HORN MOUNTAINS SHARES AN ACCOUNT OF THE FISH, SCENERY, AND UNEXPECTED WILDLIFE HE ENCOUNTERED ON THE RIVER

As I dropped a cube of sugar into my morning coffee, my sleep-addled brain perceived the splash, making a sound not unlike that of a fish rising to take a fly. I would need caffeine—not to mention the incentive of reeling in a trout—to make the big decision; where should I fly fish today? READ MORE.