Back at his car, Tom handed me an Olympia. The beer was bland, but it was also ice-cold, and on a hot July day, what more do you need? What was best about that beer, though, was that it forced me to slow down. My time in Montana was limited, and all summer I’d been in a frenzy to fish, fish, fish. Had I been alone on that day, I wouldn’t have taken a break. I would’ve just pushed through the late-afternoon lull, likely getting frustrated that the fish weren’t biting and consequently forgetting how perfect the fishing had been earlier. Thankfully, for a change, I wasn’t alone. I had a fishing buddy who gave me a beer—and with that beer, the chance to pause and appreciate where I was.