March 20, 2015
The first day of spring in Alberta and I spent the night being thrashed about by 50km/hr winds and doused by a snow rain combination. Yes the typical Alberta Spring had landed and that morning I would set off with a 12 kilometer journey in mind.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiasauCpMN_JeHzgdZP4VcDWO0C2j7lvL3CXyhPiwiFhrnqSgzsHF_hfXdPkj6uK8DZjgyKQhqlO18aZU1iN16rlRKYmb7zSwX7IeJzIDB3riMlw87KqpmLUhvNR2-25gFEMkBro_QDaG6y/s1600/DSC_3040.jpg)
My stubbornness however didn't allow me to quit due to those reasons alone. In the vast emptiness that was Whitehorse Creek I stood taking pictures of Lower Whitehorse Falls. Not even the sound of birds chirping or wind gusting yet at that moment I felt like I was being watched. With nothing more than a gut feeling (one that felt like I ate year old hot dogs) I decided to pack it in.
It had been a couple years since I've been down this path and I was excited to tackle this again, however it saddens me that my instincts (like nothing I've experienced) turned me around.
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