I’ve done a few crazy things since I moved to Colorado seven years ago.
Like that time I stayed out past midnight. Or that instance when I when I did a marathon bike ride with kids in tow, a mere month after the insanity of summiting Colorado’s highest peak.
Monday was no different. Temperatures in Denver have been downright balmy lately (40-50 degrees). I celebrated by doing some lower elevation hikes along the front range last week while the kids were in school. For the most part, the trails were clear and devoid of snow so I announced on Monday we were going to hike Chautauqua in Boulder.
I have had a love affair with Chautauqua’s Enchanted Mesa trail for a number of years and declared the area as Colorado’s best-kept secret in my family’s Tour de Colorado last summer.
But I had never experienced it quite like this.
The first thing I noticed when I unloaded the kids was the snow. An abundance of it. Undaunted, I brought out our indomitable Chariot, a four-wheel-ride stroller that defies tornadoes, hurricanes and now, snow. The trail is wide enough that after the children grow tired from hiking, I push them in the Chariot the rest of the way. On this particular day, they took one look at the conditions and opted to just ride it out.
Woosies.
I didn’t think we’d get far. The snow wasn’t deep but it was slippery and where there was not snow, there was mud. If I had any foresight, I would have brought my Yaktraks to wear over my running shoes for traction. Conditions were chilly and I predicted my Aforementioned Woosies would surely want to turn around at some point.
Oh, how wrong I was.
The terrain is gradual in the beginning and I only thought I would face-plant a couple of times. But as the trail grew steeper, so did my resolve to turn around.
“What do you guys think? Should we turn back?”
“No way, Mommy! We have to keep hiking so we can make it to our play rock at the top.”
Note No. 1: “We” actually meant “Mommy.”
And so I continued to slosh up the trail. Every time I’d rest or even hint about turning back, my Personal Trainers from Hades would voice their discontent as they proceeded to have the time of their lives. This is Bode cheering me on.
Either that, or my little dictator was doing a Heil Hitler salute.
I had been trudging up that mountain for over a half an hour when I kicked 45-pound Hadley out, thinking that less weight would make my final ascent a lot easier.
Until I noticed we were literally 20 feet from our summit.
The kids raced over to play on a nondescript boulder that is our official turnaround point. I marked the occasion by taking this self-portrait.
Note No. 2: Please ignore the residual chocolate on my front tooth that was leftover from the cookie I snarfed en route.
Note No. 3: Judge me not until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes hiked uphill in the snow pushing an 80-pound stroller.
Both ways, of course.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 