The Mountain Animals Do Five National Parks

Rocky Mountain National Park

The experience on our road trip this summer that was the most memorable for both Brian and me happened at Rocky Mountain National Park—the first stop on our national park lineup of five parks. We had great memories of exploring the park four years ago on our last cross country road trip and so we wanted to take the boys there on the way through Colorado. When we pulled into the park we asked a ranger which hike he recommended for kids. He told us there was a small one by a river where a dam had broken years ago and the river now flowed over and around huge boulders. We took his advice, and after a picnic, we put on real shoes and went hiking. That was when Cal gave everyone our climbing names: he was Mountain Horse, Clark was Mountain Cow, Brian was Mountain Goat, and of course I was the more flattering Mountain Dog.

The trail was cute and small and the view was astoundingly beautiful especially after having been in Kansas so recently. As we hiked around we saw that a bunch of people were not only walking on the paths below the river but were climbing the boulders and going right up the river. It looked fun, but of course with the boys we wouldn’t be able to do it. We started exploring—just seeing how far we could go. Then the boys started loving it—they were gritting their teeth and finding footholds for their feet and pulling themselves up. They were delighting in everything they saw and did (Mommy! Look how far I stepped this time! Look at that butterfly! I’m climbing a mountain!) and were caught up in the climb. So we did some boulder scrambling with three year-olds and it was delighful and only a little frightening at times. At the top we didn’t quite know what to do so we opted for the more dangerous choice of carrying the boys on our shoulders across the river and hiking down the other side of the boulder field.

Checking out the surroundings

The river flowing over boulders. Notice the climbers up in the right.

Boulder-y river

Here we go!

Bold climbers

Behind the boulders

View from the top. See the tiny people below.

Taking a break

We turned around and Cal was drinking from the river.

Braving the rapids

Made it to the other side!

By the end of the journey, Mountain Horse and Mountain Cow were decidedly done with hiking, but they had loved it and they loved pointing up the mountain and saying, “We climbed that!” It was a super cool, unexpected family adventure. After that, we explored Rocky Mountain park a bit more. We drove up a one-way road with a million switchback turns up a giagantic mountain. At the top we saw elk and caribou and put on our jackets. After a couple more hours of soaking in the scenery we headed to our nighttime destination—somewhere in Wyoming.

Wrong side, Cal.

Scratchy and Smoochie take in the view.

The drive up toward Wyoming from the park is amazing—along a roaring river in a beautiful canyon. The boys missed it because they slept, but it we watched the sunset bounce off the brilliant orange sides of the canyon walls. Great day.

Grand Teton National Park
I had never seen the Teton Mountains before, and once I saw them  from miles and miles away, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. As we drove into Jackson, Wyoming, I was excited to explore the park—well, as much as you can explore a national park with twin three year-olds. We took a tram ride up the mountain at Teton Village—right near where we stayed at Brian’s cousin and aunt’s house. I hate heights but I don’t want to pass on my fear to my kids so I sucked it up and we went up the mountain—as I envisioned falling and being skewered to death on giant pine trees . At the top we walked around a little and the boys played with snow for only the second time in their lives.

WOW.

Tram ride up Rendezvous Mountain at Teton Village

Nice view

Lil' bit colder up here

On top of the world!

Then they had a meltdown on the way back to the tram. They wanted nothing to do with hiking. Brian and I put them on our shoulders for the last 100 yards or so. There was a waffle shack (weird?) at the top so we got waffles with Nutella and they stopped being little punks. Bribing isn’t pretty, people, but it works.

Waffles with Nutella- the key to happiness

When we finished our trip up and down the mountain we drove into the actual Grand Teton National Park (Teton Village is just outside the park). We took a boat ride across a lake at the base of the mountains and went on a hike to a waterfall. The hike was advertised as being a little over a mile. Should we do the whole thing? Going on a hike to a waterfall and not making it to the waterfall is so lame, but if the boys had a meltdown like the one they had a few hours prior, there would be For some reason they were little hiking angels on this hike and it was beautifully fun in the mild mountain summer. Mountain Cow and Mountain Horse had resurfaced! On the way back in the boat, Cal named the boat motors R1 and R2 in honor of his two favorite Robonauts (Pretty sure those are NASA’s only Robonauts). As soon as we turned on the car they fell asleep all the way back to the house. A successful and beautiful day in the Tetons.

Boating across Jenny Lake

Up and up!

Water break

Mommy kisses

Made it all the way to the waterfall!

More water

Tthis cracked rock is way more interesting than the waterfall.

Yellowstone National Park

The third national park we visited is just north of Grand Teton National Park—Yellowstone! I have fond memories of being a kid in Yellowstone, riding around in a mustard yellow station wagon with wood paneling and no air conditioning (known as the Groovy Stuvy Wagon to those familiar to our growing up years)and probably a teenage chip on my shoulder. A walkman in my ears no doubt.

I was also in Yellowstone four years ago on our last road trip—Brian and I drove through it on a whim and spent just a few hours there. We ended up driving between the lake and a wildfire. It was the closest we’d ever been to a wildfire, and it was crazy. There were firefighters all around by the line of the fire, just hanging out eating dinner or whatever, while the mountainside lit up in flames that were consuming the black night. I can’t believe they had the road open still, the fire was so close to it. So. Yellowstone in a station wagon and Yellowstone in a fire were my past experiences.

This year it was of course equally beautiful but it was frustrating that much of the beauty of the place is over the boys’ heads at their age. They were way more into singing songs and eating snacks than the fact that we were on top of a super volcano with wild-colored stones and pools and spitting geysers. We were right next to bison the size of small buses for crying out loud. “Can we watch a DVD?” GRRRR.

We watched Old Faithful, which was cool and they enjoyed. We did some of the small hikes around the springs and geyser pools and I was glad we did. Amazing colors. This makes me almost cry: I lost all of the pictures I took in Yellowstone when my computer died on the way home from our trip. We have only this one from Brian’s phone.

Scratchy and Smoochie at Old Faithful

At the end of the day we only saw a few moose and bison—no bears, which we were looking for. We stayed at an amazing little cabin that I did a review of here. I hope we can take Mountain Horse and Mountain Cow back there when they are older and can appreciate it a little more.

Craters of the Moon

The fourth national park we went to is actually called a national monument, which baffles me and so I’m categorizing it my own way. It most certainly is a park. Craters of the Moon. We had a fun couple hours here, minus the part where Mountain Cow cried and refused to walk so I pulled him.  I wrote about it and put a bunch more pictures of it here. It is such bizarre place—an ancient lava field nestled in rolling farmlands of soutern Idaho. Mountain Cow and Mountain Horse briefly turned into astronauts on the moon at this park.

Astronaut Mountain Horse

Badlands National Park

The fifth and final national park we drove through was Badlands National Park in South Dakota. I also have memories of this park from when I was a teenager in the Groovy Stuvy wagon. I loved our time there. We camped and hiked around on some of the crazy hills. On this trip, however, Mountain Horse and Mountain Cow were not entertained. The Badlands was by far the worst park for us. We simply drove on the loop through the park and early on we decided to get out and walk around a little—show the boys the amazing geologic scenery. The couldn’t handle it. Major meltdown because of something like important a rock in a shoe or a shirt being tucked in when it shouldn’t have been. I think at this point they were done with scenery.

Moments before the epic meltdown

Mount Rushmore National Monument

We also saw Mount Rushmore, and the boys had an equally big meltdown in the midst of all the tourists, but you would never know it to hear them talk about it now. They love to pretend to be the presidents on the mountain and love to point out Mount Rushmore anytime we see a picture of it. (It’s weird how often you see it places)

Pre-meltdown

The stuffed travelers

Post-meltdown Mountain Animals

And that is how Mountain Horse, Mountain Cow, Mountain Goat, and Mountain Dog did five national parks and a national monument this summer.

An End of Summer Picking

I have this blogging and journaling problem: if a lot has happened since my last post I have a hard time writing because I feel that I have to catch readers up on everything in neatly organized, chronological order. Then I just stop writing and cramp up. Oh well. Order be damned. Here's a short photo story from today.

We went raspberry and peach picking at our favorite spot for such adventures: Hartland Orchards.

Brian goes back to work next week so we're savoring the last few days of our fun summer.

Awesome day. Good kids. Delicious fruits. Lovely weather.

Distinguishing between ripe and not-quite ripe

Cal: "I loved this place when I was a four year-old girl."

Clark: "Now I'm going to pick with my friend Daddy."

Clark's friend Daddy

On to the peach orchard

Is it ripe?

Peach tree scouting

Picking with Dad and the giant picker

A good peach harvest

Quick, while Dad's not looking...

Squishing peaches

The only way to cut up peaches

Our raspberry jam!

Soon-to-be peach jam

Thursday Thesicle

Peanut butter kisses are better than regular kisses.

Thursday Thesicle

You wish you had a pencil-thin mustache.

Boating in Rugged Idaho: A Survival Story

One day on our recent two-week Idaho stay, we decided to take a boat ride to a place on the lake none of us had ever visited—a bay that is accessible only by boat. It looked like it would take about 20-30 minutes to drive there. There’s a nice campground, beach, picnic tables, outhouses, even an ancient metal slide. Sounds like a good time.

A little back-story on our families’ boat history: Once Brian and his family (including infant sister) were caught in the muck of low tide for 8 hours. My mom once drove a boat up onto a dock. Once when my sister was water skiing the prop broke off the boat. My uncles/aunts/grandparents/ cousins who live on a lake have second or third-hand boats that always break down.  This may or may not be related to the fact that they are all generous and lend their boats to anyone. Also they store the boats in a huge barn all winter(s) long. My grandfather fixes everything with baling wire—including motor boats. Clearly we have a rich history of nautical excellence.

Bring on the adventure.

So we all jumped in Generous Uncle Pete’s boat, on a sparklingly sunny day, ready for adventure. We made sure we had an oar and life jackets first. We got to the park with no problem—the endless blue rolling by, the boys loving the ride, the motor roaring. Had a lovely picnic after playing on the super-safe retro metal slide and the long-chained, really-high swings. So much better than the playgrounds made today. Also much hotter than playgrounds made today.

The beach was great—and there was only one other group on it. When they left we insisted (physically) that Calvin get into the water in his life jacket. Anyone within earshot would have thought he was being tortured and/or drowning. Considering his fear of water, he did okay. After a couple hours at the park we loaded everything and everybody up into the boat.

Then Brian tried to start it. Then again. And again. And blue smoke. And again. More blue smoke. Uneasy glances. And again. Finally it started and we all took a breath. The blue smoke floated across the bay, as we pulled away from the dock. I noticed Calvin making a serious face and asked him above the roar of motor, what he was doing. “I’m being the motor,” he said, as if I should have already known. “I’m Calvin Motor.” And he immediately went back to his focused face and deep humming. 

Calvin Motor and the less serious Clark Motor

About a quarter of the way home, Brian’s beloved Idaho hat blew off. So he turned around and drove up next to it. He killed the engine as my sister jumped off the boat to rescue it. Calvin Motor also shut down and remained perfectly still. At this point we were way out in the middle of a huge lake. Where was that oar? Do we have cell service? After Crystal rescued the hat, the motor started up perfectly and we all breathed once again. Calvin motor fired up as well.

MOTORING WITH AUNT BEAN!

A few minutes later an empty bag flew out of our boat. We turned around and this time Crystal scooped up the bag with a wiffle bat and we didn’t have to kill the motor. We pulled into a bay with a gas station to fill up. Calvin Motor asked to be covered up with a towel while he got filled up with gas. After a good $60 of gas, a turn of the key produced a click. No blue smoke. No sputters. Just a click.

You’ve got to be kidding.

A gas station attendant gave us some advice but there was nothing going on. We got off the boat in the relentlessly burning sun and Crys and I took the boys around the side of the gas station where there was a strip of shade before the first boat slip and I gave them a juice box. Dad and Brian couldn’t figure out anything. They tested the battery and poked around in various boat areas. After awhile of bravely entertaining the boys on the dock behind the gas station, Brian showed up from inside the gas station with ice cold beer for us. It’s a tough life, being marooned on a dock. In the shade. With a beer.

I helped move the boat down the dock away from the gas pumps and we pulled everything out of it. There was a perfect-sized cart that the attendant was able to lend us and we pushed our cooler with our sustenance and all our other stuff into the shade of…a bar and grille? Hm. Too bad. When I got back, Clark was getting impatient and ran around the corner of the gas station, fell (shocker) and skinned his knees. Upon seeing his brother in pain, Calvin emptied his bladder through his wet swim diaper and a puddle spread in a perfect circle the dock in front of the gas station. Awesome. So we cleaned the knees and the dock, reapplied diapers to the boys, and decided it was time to form a rescue plan.

My mom had just finished work, but she could go back to her house, get the key to our van with car seats in it, go to my grandparents’ and get our van, and drive around the lake to the bay we were at, and pick us up. Uncle Pete would bring his boat trailer and rescue the boat.

Now for the most harrowing part of our tale—we all went inside the bar and grille, ordered nachos, huckleberry beer, and apple juice, and watched reruns of the home run derby on the giant TVs in the air conditioning. The boys colored. Sometimes these things happen, and I’ve learned to make the best of them. Suffer through them, and in the end I’ll be a stronger person.

After awhile we went ahead and ordered a pizza and more huckleberry beer and (Crys, why did you order me another one?!) Mom and Uncle Pete came. With more people to feed on the island, the fight for survival turned ugly. We did the only thing we could; we ordered some chicken fingers as well.

After dinner Uncle Pete loaded up his boat and Brian drove us home in our van. The boys fell asleep on the ride home, with lots of food in their bellies.

And that is how we survived being stranded in the rugged Idaho.

Thursday Thesicle

If you give a ringbearer an iPad, chances are that no rings will be delivered.