The “rocks” were just out of town in the coulee. I spent hours as a young boy on the “rocks” carving initials in the sandstone, then wandering around the coulee eventually making my way down to Kneehill Creek to investigate the goings on of its meanderings. Perhaps this is where my love of hiking and backpacking began.
Why do I spend multiple days at a time in a tent, sleeping on the ground, walking along trails that have no purpose? It’s a good question.
Beautiful Feet 