Blowing Snow

In winter, 1969, two friends and I were hunting grizzlies on the
south shore of the Lesser Slave Lake in Northern Alberta. We rode down
off of a ridge and through what remained of an abandoned ranch. The
 barn was tumbled in, the fences down and the old log style house stood
 open to those winds that never cease. One of my hunting partners had
 ranched near there for a number of years. He told us the story of the
 family that had homesteaded there many years before. This is their

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