Southern Colorado with a Two Year Old Part 1

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Visiting Colorado every summer has been a staple of our family since my husband and I were footloose, childfree, and courting. Our first visit together was in the summer of 2009 when we took 2 weeks (2 whole weeks!) to tour around the south western part of the state. That trip was amazing...and complicated. We brought ALL the toys. Mountain bikes, backpacks, canoe, fly rods, the works. Not to mention two dogs.  

Our sweet old girls. Both gone now. What fun we had that day. 

Our sweet old girls. Both gone now. What fun we had that day. 

A pre-marriage, pre-kid, younger and significantly better rested pair of Vikings. 

A pre-marriage, pre-kid, younger and significantly better rested pair of Vikings. 

These days, both work schedules and having a 2 year old means that we only have a week, and we need to be a little more targeted with our activities. But we still have a blast and always leave feeling relaxed and inspired by the incomparable beauty of The San Juan Mountains.

Because we frequently bust out of town on weekend jaunts, our usual getting packed up routine is done in bits and pieces during the evenings and early mornings of the week before, with one final push of stuff gathering, dish washing, and chicken feeding done at the crack of dawn before we leave. While this method works for getting us out frequently on weekend adventures, it can leave us a little frazzled and short tempered before we ever get rolling. This time we made an uncharacteristically sensible and relaxed decision to spend Saturday packing and cleaning rather than make ourselves crazy packing in advance. For two perfectionistic, overcommiters with serious workaholic tendencies, this approach was somewhat revolutionary.

Our first day was spent making time across the high desert of northeastern Arizona to cross through the four corners. This would otherwise have been a somewhat unremarkable day. A drive with a number of lovely views, that we have done a million times before. THIS year, however, we had a new joy to experience. In the week leading up to our trip, our previously reluctant toddler had declared that he wanted to wear big boy underwear! (Of course...because when ELSE would he decide to try that besides three days before a long car trip?...sigh) In any case, we decided we would go ahead and try this “no diaper” business on the drive. I am notorious for excellent hydration habits and a tiny bladder so we figured it would be no big deal. Little did we know that our kid would be the one little boy on planet earth who wants NOTHING to do with peeing outside. Nothing. And the long, hot, dry stretch across the minimally developed Navajo Nation offers few opportunities for toilets. Four hours and 157 attempted pee stops after leaving home we were having visions of him falling asleep and turning our truck into Lake Powell. Thankfully we had brought along some diapers. I would love to tell you it was at this moment that we just switched to diapers the rest of the trip...we were not that clever.

It is a glorious thing when your toddler begins to "read" to himself. Happy, self-entertained traveler! Score!

It is a glorious thing when your toddler begins to "read" to himself. Happy, self-entertained traveler! Score!

We made it to Durango in about 67 hours (thanks frequently potty stops!) the last hour and a half of which our little dude was “reading” his books to himself in the backseat. An activity so endearing it kinda of made our hearts hurt. We headed up into the forest above Purgatory (now called Durango Mountain Resort. But I will never call it that...NEVER. It is Purgatory. Period.) and found a sweet little camp with a stream running right through it. The afternoon was spent exploring the verdant green slopes around camp, munching on wild strawberries, learning that not ALL wild berries should be put in our mouths (YIKES!), and throwing pebbles in the stream.

"Look Mama! Strawbabies!" 

"Look Mama! Strawbabies!" 

One of my goals for the trip had been a mountain bike ride on some of the trails around the city of Durango. I’ve heard much about the riding in the area and hadn’t ever experienced it. The second day, we drove back down into the town to drop me off at the Telegraph Trailhead, while the boys went out on a requisite excursion to Maria’s bookstore and Gardenswartz. For bibliophiles unfamiliar with Maria’s in downtown Durango, it goes on your “must visit” list. It is the kind of cozy, local bookstore that every town wants, but few seem to be able to support. Tall polished wooden bookshelves speckled with the colors of a thousand binding edges. Tables in the center of the space with employee picks, an inviting and colorful children’s section that carries both classic favorites and newer pieces of excellent children’s literature, and a staff that seems to know every book in the store and can point each unique customer to a selection that will delight them. My favorite features of Maria’s by far though, is their extensive section on travel/adventure/and local history. I always seem to find some awe inspiring read (or three). It was here that I found the book Wild Mama during our anniversary trip a few weeks earlier, which could easily be a personal manifesto. A must read for all adventure loving moms. (Full review coming soon)

This trip's adventure read. Thanks for the awesome book Maria's! Moment's later, it suffered an unspeakable fate (keep reading). 

This trip's adventure read. Thanks for the awesome book Maria's! Moment's later, it suffered an unspeakable fate (keep reading). 

While my boys explored the town and dropped a sum of money roughly equivalent to a semester of in state college tuition at the bookstore, I rode my steel pony up the telegraph trail. It wound it’s way through the flats and up the side of a mesa following, unsurprisingly from the name, an old telegraph pole alignment. The route up the hillside had the typical Colorado fall line approach to trail building. Steep, straight up hill with no contouring, and heavily eroded. The top of the climb had a welcoming spot to eat lunch in the shade overlooking the La Plata Mountains. I descended the seemingly even steeper and more eroded Anasazi Descent and swooped out the banked turns of the Meadows Loop. A delightful introduction to the trails of Durango, though perhaps not the first one I’ll ride next time.

Top of the Telegraph Trail over looking the La Plata Mountains with my Mustache Bike.

Top of the Telegraph Trail over looking the La Plata Mountains with my Mustache Bike.

That afternoon, I took over the parenting duties while the hubs worked on some “gratuitous building” projects. As a carpenter, he spends his days fixing things that need fixing, or building things to someone else's specifications. Getting to just tinker for the fun of it is rare, and makes him really dang happy. Tag teaming personal projects, is key for keeping both parents fulfilled.  

Leaving this "bridge" as just a couple of rickety logs simply wouldn't do. 

Leaving this "bridge" as just a couple of rickety logs simply wouldn't do. 

Meanwhile, the Little Bear and I headed out for an afternoon hike from the back of camp. I would love to tell you it was all giggles and wonder in a moss covered fairy land. Sometimes hiking with him is, but that day he had bucked his nap altogether and was exercising his personal independence to a level previously uncharted. Poisonous mushrooms (and trying to put them in his mouth) were the focus of his activities. Being asked not to touch mushrooms in the woods resulted in maniacal laughter and doing exactly what he had been told not to do. Between fear of imminent death-by-toadstool and the fact that his aversion to outdoor bathroom visits had led to wet pants yet again drove us back to camp a bit early.

Is this the face of mischief or what? But darn he's cute is his red "fireman" boots! 

Is this the face of mischief or what? But darn he's cute is his red "fireman" boots! 

Back at camp, I rummaged through the truck trying to organize a few things before launching into dinner prep. My little one, still not out of steam for mischief, climbed into the front seat and peed all over my brand new book. I. Lost. It. Having invited him to go to the bathroom multiple times and being refused AND having JUST changed wet pants, this was just too much. Steam fumed out my ears, I raised my voice, and had to walk away for a while to cool down. It was the most infuriating combo of parenting failure and what felt like and intentional naughtiness from him. When I finally calmed down, I was able to get the clarity to realize this was honestly all my fault. I could have anticipated that he might want his potty while traveling and packed it. Learning to be in underwear AND learning to go outdoors is a lot for a little person all at once. AND I should have taken the hint from the day before and just let him stay in diapers for the trip. He was clearly uncomfortable with handling bathroom needs outdoors. This was my bad...not his. I apologized for losing my temper and decided that regressing to diapers for the week wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Slow down, breathe deep. You don't to do everything TODAY. Decide what is most important right now and just do that. 

Slow down, breathe deep. You don't to do everything TODAY. Decide what is most important right now and just do that. 

There was a lesson for life in this mundane and frustrating parenting moment. We can do anything and everything we want in this life, but we can’t do it all at once. He will, we assume, get the hang of no diapers, and I would bet with parents like us he will also get the hang of outdoor bathrooming. But trying to do it all at the same time? A recipe for failure and frustration. This is a lesson I seem to need to learn over and over again. I can have a life with a child, career, adventure, rich friendships, time for my spouse and extended family, volunteer work, a spotless home, plenty of sleep and self care, and homemade gourmet dinners. But is it reasonable to do each and every one of those things every single day in equal measure? No. Of course not. But for a type-a go getter like me, it feels like I should. I can get pretty hard on myself if my unreasonable check list of 35 things doesn’t get done every single day. Breathe. Pick three things that will get the majority of your attention today and do those. Let everything else go. You will get to the other things, but maybe not today.            

Eat, sleep, play. The three things on Oscar's list today. 

Eat, sleep, play. The three things on Oscar's list today. 

Part 2 coming soon!! Stay tuned! 

 

 

How to Hike With a Toddler

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Papa Bear and the Little Bear near Ophir, Colorado. 

Papa Bear and the Little Bear near Ophir, Colorado. 

Soo...you’ve decided to take your toddler hiking have you? Great! Congratulations! Way to rock this mom thing! You will spend the day in the fresh air and sunshine teaching your child to be one with nature! No electronics for you! Maybe you’ll get a shiny medal that says “Mom of the Year!” for this!

But don’t feel too smug too fast, you do have to get out the door first….

pinterest hike.png

Step 1: Choose your location.

You want to consider factors such as length and elevation gain and distance from home. Do NOT leave out the “distance from home” part, as too long in the car seat at the start of the day will turn your happy hiker into a screaming gremlin faster than you can say “granola bar”.

It is advisable to do this the night before as any attempt to study a map with a toddler in the room will be punctuated by whining, potty accidents, requests for popsicles, and/or the toddler attempting to abscond with the map. This type of distraction can be disastrous leading you to mistake a 30 mile hike for a 3 mile hike. Not good.

I'm so glad he loves maps as much as I do....but it does make route planning difficult.

I'm so glad he loves maps as much as I do....but it does make route planning difficult.

Step 2: Plan to get an alpine start!

You remember those right? From your pre-kid peak bagging days? You go to bed nice and early so you can be on the trail with headlamps by 5 AM. Of course, a toddler alpine start looks a little different. This version includes mom being up at 5:00 AM to make sure everything is packed, loaded and ready to go so that the moment the tiny dictator awakens you can put them in the car with their portable breakfast right away.

This is a crucial step, so please don’t skip it. There is an extremely small window of “happy and well rested” between morning rising and the pre naptime melt down. If you wait to begin too long and the start of your hike begins to collide with the grumpy hour, you will be sunk. But if your toddler is happily engaged in the activity when this time hits, they are much more likely to sail through it until back at the car where they can pass out on the way home.

So, go to bed early with every intention of whistling around the kitchen at 5 AM packing snacks. Of course….what will really happen is the toddler will have a nightmare and wet the bed on two separate occasions between midnight and 2:00, eventually landing them in your bed where they will wriggle and writhe in a manner reminiscent of a crocodile doing a death roll. They WILL kick you in the face no less than 3 times.

They always sleep so peacefully as soon as it is time for you to get up, don't they?

They always sleep so peacefully as soon as it is time for you to get up, don't they?

When 5 AM rolls around and the toddler is finally sleeping peacefully, drag yourself out of bed to make a pot of very strong coffee. Despite your best intentions, sit staring at the wall through at least 1.5 cups of magic brown elixir as you attempt to pierce the fog of a night with little sleep. Reassure yourself that you still have plenty of time since the kiddos tends to sleep until 7:00 these days. By 5:45 when you wrench yourself off the couch, the toddler will awaken with a mighty roar and require comforting, another trip to the potty, and the reading of three books.

Briefly consider throwing in to towel on this whole endeavour. But don’t. Don’t throw in the towel.

I assure you something like this WILL happen...and it's ok. Roll with it. It will be worth it. I promise. 

I assure you something like this WILL happen...and it's ok. Roll with it. It will be worth it. I promise. 

3. Pack all the things.

And I mean ALL the things. Snacks of all kinds of course. Bars, dried fruit, peanut butter sandwiches, jerky, and some kind of “secret weapon” snack. The one you pull out when the toddler is about to go full nuclear at the point furthest possible from the car. We like dum-dums around here. (Note: the anti-sugar mom brigade may not like this suggestion. But you skip this step at your peril. Trust me. A dum-dum or three isn’t THAT much sugar and can make the difference between a pleasant and happy return trip, and one that involves endless howling.) Not only do the dum-dums make an excellent bribe to keep toddlers happy towards the middle/end of a hike, if you save this special treat only for hiking and similar activities it becomes a fun and special association that helps them view this as an activity they want to do again.

Do not be afraid to deploy the sugar mamas. After all, if you can't eat lollipops and fruity snacks while hiking, when can you!?

Do not be afraid to deploy the sugar mamas. After all, if you can't eat lollipops and fruity snacks while hiking, when can you!?

In addition to food, you will want to bring everything that could conceivably be needed for general comfort. You will of course have checked the weather, but this will have only minimal bearing on packing. Going to be 80 degrees? Let’s throw in a sweater just in case. Not going to rain? Better at least have a poncho! Kid been potty trained for 3 months? Throw in a couple of diapers. You never know.

Contemplate carefully if you want to bring the baby carrier backpack. Be warned that if you leave it at home, your toddler will whine to be carried the whole time. If you bring it, he will howl like a banshee at the mere suggestion of riding in it. “NO mama! I RUN!!”

4. Check the weather.

Being at the top of a mountain during a lightning storm, or the bottom of a canyon in a flash flood with your child would DEFINITELY endanger that “mom of the year” award. Nuf said.

5. Hit the trail!

Whew! Through all the trials and tribulations of getting here, you have finally made it! As you hike with your little munchkin, pepper the walk with games like “hide and seek” and “kick the rock”. Look for insects and animals. Marvel at flowers and the texture of tree bark. You will have to walk a fine line of letting the toddler dawdle and experience the outdoors in their own way, while keeping things moving so you get home before dark. There will be scraped knees, tantrums, and stand offs. Deploy those dum-dums as needed mama...and keep em coming! But despite the challenges of hiking with your toddler, the truth is that a day at home isn’t really that much easier. You would still have scraped knees, protestations over the shape of their sandwich, and arguments about how many episodes of Clifford the Big Red Dog they can watch. And you would have missed out on the sunshine, the play, the thousands of things they are learning by climbing on rocks, peering at caterpillers or splashing in creeks. And the pictures wouldn’t be half as good.               

At Hope Lake near Telluride, Colorado. 

At Hope Lake near Telluride, Colorado.