Last year I inadvertently started a new tradition when I took the kids hiking the day before Thanksgiving. They have the entire week off school, and rather than let them sit in their respective rooms obsessing over their iStuff, I try to engage them in the mountain lifestyle. You know ... hiking and stuff. They haven't exactly taken to it like fish to water, but I do attempt to force it upon them from time to time.
Anyway, last year's hike was a great success ... Kenosha Pass on a beautiful, sunny day. There was snow, but not deep, and it was warm enough for them to take off their jackets. They liked it so much, they wanted to go there again. This year, looking at the forecasts, we were up against wind. Lots of it. If you've ever hiked on a windy day, you know how miserable it can be, especially in winter. Doing it by yourself is one thing; doing it with three whiny kids is another.
The forecast for Conifer looked good, so I decided on Reynolds Park. And yes, it was warm enough to remove our jackets, and the wind was minimal. The landscape, however, was about what you'd expect in Conifer in November: BROWN. We kept wondering where the view was. If you're familiar with Jeffco Open Space, you know that most of the parks have a pay-off at some point during the hike. This one was a long time in coming, but at the southernmost tip, the view opened up out of nowhere. Behold:
Anyway, last year's hike was a great success ... Kenosha Pass on a beautiful, sunny day. There was snow, but not deep, and it was warm enough for them to take off their jackets. They liked it so much, they wanted to go there again. This year, looking at the forecasts, we were up against wind. Lots of it. If you've ever hiked on a windy day, you know how miserable it can be, especially in winter. Doing it by yourself is one thing; doing it with three whiny kids is another.
The forecast for Conifer looked good, so I decided on Reynolds Park. And yes, it was warm enough to remove our jackets, and the wind was minimal. The landscape, however, was about what you'd expect in Conifer in November: BROWN. We kept wondering where the view was. If you're familiar with Jeffco Open Space, you know that most of the parks have a pay-off at some point during the hike. This one was a long time in coming, but at the southernmost tip, the view opened up out of nowhere. Behold:
That is Pikes Peak in the far distance--75 miles away. Anyway, this view lasted for maybe a quarter mile, and then we were surrounded by dry, brittle conifers and winter grass once again.
While the hike itself was a little disappointing, I love hiking with the kids because a side of them comes out that I rarely see at home. There is a silliness and a camaraderie that is revealed as they race along the trail (for all that I am "in shape," I still cannot keep up with these gazelles). For a couple of blissful hours, there is no bickering, sullenness, mean little digs, and all the other junk that makes me question my parenting. They are more likely to laugh and tease, and worst of all, play the "remember when" game. (I say "worst" because either I find out things they've done I'd rather not know, or they use it somehow against me.) My kids have this strange compulsion to tell on themselves whenever they know they can't get into trouble for it anymore. Hopefully it helps them remember that their childhood is pretty awesome and not a bastion of unfairness.
I'm thankful for days like these, and hope to continue the tradition next year!
While the hike itself was a little disappointing, I love hiking with the kids because a side of them comes out that I rarely see at home. There is a silliness and a camaraderie that is revealed as they race along the trail (for all that I am "in shape," I still cannot keep up with these gazelles). For a couple of blissful hours, there is no bickering, sullenness, mean little digs, and all the other junk that makes me question my parenting. They are more likely to laugh and tease, and worst of all, play the "remember when" game. (I say "worst" because either I find out things they've done I'd rather not know, or they use it somehow against me.) My kids have this strange compulsion to tell on themselves whenever they know they can't get into trouble for it anymore. Hopefully it helps them remember that their childhood is pretty awesome and not a bastion of unfairness.
I'm thankful for days like these, and hope to continue the tradition next year!