“I am not running down that cliff!” I shouted down to Jeff my snowshoe guide, as I emerged out of the Deschutes National Forest onto the top of the awfully big… snowdrift.
Unbidden, visions of my flailing body tumbling headlong downhill until the inevitable face-plant brake in the snow flashed through my mind.
I could just barely make out Jeff’s snickering at the bottom of the precipice. Okay, it was really just a hill, but the rambling effervescent white view from the top was intimidating.
Continue reading about my snowshoeing adventure in Bend in WaveJourney.