Bloggy Hoss Biker Babe

July 12, 2007 By

As if our ridiculous goal to scale Mt. Elbert wasn’t enough, Jamie and I are going to make our second attempt at biking a gorgeous 20-mile trail through the mountains near Breckenridge with kids in tow this weekend.

The first time we tried, we barely made it to the trailhead after a series of mishaps including when my bike repeatedly fell off the very expensive Yakima rack on my Jeep and I ended up clutching the stupid bike during the whole drive. For clarification, I did this whilst in the passenger’s seat, not on top of the rack (though I’m sure the thought did cross Jamie’s mind).

Once we arrived, we could not get Jamie’s bike off the stupid rack (you know: the same rack we couldn’t get the other bike to stay on). Moody and irascible, we loaded Hadley up in the Chariot trailer and forced ourselves to hit the trail. We went down the large slope, relishing in the simplicity, the ease, the freedom of flight, and thinking it was all so worth it.

And also not realizing there was a 30-mile-per-hour tail wind.

We turned around about halfway due to some threatening storm clouds. My ascent was fairly easy. After all, I was not hauling the 40-pound bike trailer. Jamie grunted and sweated the traverse and I realized for the first time in my life, I WAS BEATING HIM. And all he needed was a 40-pound handicap.

And then it started raining.

I won’t go into the sordid details but just know that it has been two years since we have even touched our bikes. Of course, a little thing called pregnancy, having Bode and then not wanting to sit on That-Place-Where-I-Had-Just-Birthed-A-Watermelon also had something to do with it.

We finally dusted off our bikes and got them tuned up a couple of months ago for a whopping $120 (the going rate in the rip-off-that-is Denver). For our first outing, we hooked up the Chariot and loaded the children.

I was the lucky party who hauled them this time; about 60 pounds is my best calculation. We cruised around the neighborhood and down to a beautifully preserved open space park as expressive clouds followed our every move. With the wind billowing at my back, I breathed with a clarity of spirit I have not known for months and squealed to Jamie,

“This feels incredible to be back on the bike. That Chariot is so amazingly smooth that I can barely feel that I am pulling the kids!”

But then I went uphill.

And felt every single one of those 60 pounds. Plus, the extra post-pregnancy 20 I’m still hauling around. I needed encouragement.

“Help Mommy go up this hill! Cheer for me, Haddie!”

“Daddy is going faster. You are going slow!”

A simple “Go Mommy” would have worked just dandy.

I miraculously made it up the hill without dismounting while Jamie circled around me like a smug piranha. Yeah, he remembered the pain-that-was-Breckenridge. And in a few short hours, so it begins. Again.

P.S. Stop the mom blog presses! I just found out I won “Most Athletic” in the Bloggy Hoss Elections. Thank you for all who voted for me. And did I say I crawled up that hill on the bike? I meant to say cruised. Really….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: biking, Colorado, Family travel, Humor, outdoors

Double Dating, Crazy Canuck Style

July 10, 2007 By
On Saturday, I had the brilliant idea to invite our neighbors to bike down to a chic little bistro that just opened up in Olde Town. We loaded up the kids in their respective bike trailers and followed our local river trail to the restaurant.

Dinner was lovely. Well, only if you consider having absolutely no kid food and portions the size of Bode’s fist. Call me crazy but if I am going to drop $40, I want to come out feeling like I just had some semblance of a meal.

As we juggled the kids during dinner, we were dismayed to see dark clouds creeping in. By the time we loaded everyone up, there was a veritable storm brewing. A storm with a strong tail wind, thunder, and lightning that jolted the sky right above our heads. And somehow Meredith and I were the lucky ones who were hauling the kids.

The husbands were smart enough to stay with us knowing that taking off would be far worse than any bolt of lightning. Though I could have dealt without Master Electrician Andy’s words of advice:

“Whatever you do, do not touch anything that is metal.”

I looked down at the metal bar-ends attached to my handlebars. You know: the ones that I was clinging to for dear life. Oh yeah, not to mention my metal bike frame.”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk, Andy.

We made it home just as the rain started to dump, with no major repercussions. Though I must say that Jamie’s hair was looking rather suspect….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, Family, Humor, outdoors

Mt. Elbert or Bust Busted on Mt. Elbert

July 3, 2007 By
I am proud to say we bagged Mt. Elbert–Colorado’s highest peak and the second highest in the lower 48. I enjoy saying that because it sounds impressive. Not so impressive is my next confessional: I have hiked much steeper and more difficult mountains than Elbert.
Don’t get me wrong: scaling 4,700 vertical feet was no stroll in the park but I was pleasantly surprised this mountain did not send me to my grave. Well, at least not completely (though admittedly one foot did make its entrance).
Prior to setting out on our trek, we realized Jamie had misplaced two key items: the map and an altimeter. We managed to fudge our way without the former but were hatin’ it without the latter. You see, ascertaining your elevation with an altimeter helps you avoid something agonizing called false summits: thinking you reached the top, only to find the real summit taunting you in the distance.

For further clarification: Baby keeps you up for first six months of her life. Finally sleeps through the night. Parent thinks HOLY CRAP, BABY SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT. I HAVE ARRIVED! Next night: Baby wakes up every hour. False summit.

Feel my pain?

When climbing 14,000-foot peaks (14ers) it is critical to be off the summit by noon due to dangerous weather patterns that blow through the Rocky Mountains. We stayed at a nearby B&B and were on the trail at the crack of dawn. It did not take long for the pitch to become fevered. Jamie and I have very different hiking styles. He is more of a sprint-and-stop kind of guy while I am slow and steady.
Despite the commanding views at the top, I am not partial to 14ers for their beauty. Part of the reason is you are doing the brunt of the climb above treeline. And call me crazy but there is little innate beauty about rocks, particularly when that is all you see for hours on end.

But this hike was different. We ascended through whispering aspen groves, boreal forests, glacier-scoured valleys nestled between craggy peaks and through profusions of wildflowers in full bloom. In the distance, the silence was punctured by the howl of coyotes and the call of an elk. Oh, and the cussing of a Canuck. Did I mention just how steep it was?

We kept pace with one another until about 1/2-mile from the top when Jamie got summit fever and picked up his pace from a slow crawl to only a semi-slow one.
“What are you doing?”
“Summit Fever, Amber. Summit Fever.”
And then I gave him that look. You know, that one that says you had better slow down right now if you want to create our final child and also spend the rest of our lives practicing. That look.

He stopped in his tracks.

I am proud to be a role model for supporting a husband’s aspirations and dreams.

Reaching the summit is like an elite club of folks whose altitude sickness has made them forget the misery of the climb. And that is what keeps them coming back again and again. The group is always eclectic, always friendly, and always has a story. Like this young buck who set the goal to juggle atop all of Colorado’s 14ers.

Huh?

I felt strong the first few miles of the descent but the intensity of the hike kicked in the last 1.5 miles and our knees screamed out in protest.
Jamie’s knee was still bothering him when we arrived home so I graciously unloaded his luggage. And you’ll never guess what I discovered.

“Hey Jamie. I just found the maps.”
“Oh, where?”
“In your backpack.”
“Oh yeah. I put them in there so I wouldn’t forget them on the climb.”

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, hiking, Humor, outdoors Tagged With: ,

Weekend Warriors

June 24, 2007 By
Only in Colorado:

You can go from water….
To snow….

To the arts in just one weekend!

Welp, maybe Alaska is another place but I think the H2O might be on the chilly side.

‘Twas a busy weekend at play with the clan. On Friday, we hit Bellview Park, a fantastic venue that consisted of Bode’s first face plant stream wading, a petting zoo and a train ride. OK, maybe the train ride didn’t exactly happen. I guess I am not the only thing that cannot endure the heat–the woosy train tracks were “compromised” because of it. Evidently they imported them from Canada.

Saturday, we hit the high country and hiked to St. Mary’s Glacier, a definite must-see if you are ever in Colorado. The kids were fantastic and the views breathtaking. As we trekked along, Haddie sang and Bode happily babbled away in one of those moments where everything just seemed right.

Until Hadley rummaged through the pink dog puke on the side of the trail. Because evidently everyone needs a reality check. Too bad we get those checks all day long, every day.

That night, we hit Lower Downtown “LoDo”, the place where Denver’s hippest and most happening people hang out.

And then there was us.

We went to dinner at a cool Mongolian BBQ restaurant and then hit the streets for La Piazza ‘dell Art in our annual attempt to expose our kids to culture.

I have always wanted to attend this festival to see all the artists transform Larimer Square into a beautiful street museum of colorful chalk images. And I really wanted to see if they could duplicate the artistic rendering I do of hopscotch on our driveway.

They came close.

But didn’t even touch Jamie’s masterpiece he created last summer entitled “Traumatizing the neighborhood, one kid at a time”….

© Crazy Bloggin’ Canuck–A Denver Mom’s Blog
Filed Under: Colorado, Family travel, Humor, outdoors, travel
Newer Posts »