Sawyer skidded the truck sideways a little and pulled the e-brake as we lurched to a stop in the fly shop parking lot. He looked at me and grinned. "Be right back," he yelled, and he jogged up the short set of stairs. Sawyer ripped the wooden shop door open, and it...
![It’s Not the Same](https://troutbitten.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/Troutbitten_Its_Not_the_Same-1-of-1-1080x628.jpg)