I was pushing the envelope and I knew it.
The weather on Saturday was certainly far from ideal for fly fishing. Hell, it was far from ideal just for driving. But as I continued on through near white out conditions at times, I kept desperatly hoping that there would be a break in the weather - just enough to wet a line, maybe hook a fish or two, and collect a few bugs. It was a valiant effort, but in the end I was forced to turn back about 20 kilometers west of Rocky Mountain House due to decreasing visibility and ice starting to form on the highway.
Every now and then even a die-hard fly angler has a rational thought.
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