My girls continuously surprise me. But then sometimes they really surprise me. Like on Sunday. Audrey and I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood when I suggested we go up the hill and cross 4th Street to the base of Sanitas Trail. (The city of Boulder literally abuts the mountains.) Despite its proximity Audrey and I had only walked up there once before because somehow she became scared of trails. Her stated reason was that they moved, seemingly likening the ascending path of dirt and rocks to some sort of scary escalator. Whatever the case was, she felt more adventurous on Sunday.
My suggestion to walk to the trail was greeted with a smile and a "Sure, Daddy." And when we got to the trailhead Audrey didn't mention anything about it moving any which way. In fact when we spotted some people higher up the mountain she was much more interested in how they had gotten up there. I explained that the way there was the path in front of us.
The trail remains wide and the incline gradual for the first several hundred yards so, seemingly bored, Audrey thought we should instead scale the steep incline of grass, weeds, shrubs and rocks to get to the top. I told her to go for it but, walking to the edge of the trail, she looked up and decided against it. Baby steps first.
When the trail got steeper, narrower and rockier I turned to her and asked if she'd like to go back? "Nooo!" she replied. "I want to go up!" I paused, surprised, but took her hand and we kept walking.
"Make sure to hold Daddy's hand," I told her. "I don't want you to slip and fall." That wasn't her idea of fun but I told her we weren't going anywhere unless she agreed.
Further up I asked her again if she wanted to turn around. "No, Daddy, I want to go to the top!" she said with resolve. To hear my 3-year-old insist on this was strange but we kept moving... We had brought an apple along and she munched on it as we walked, fruit in one hand and my hand in the other. (She dropped the apple more than a few times but in each case brushed it off and kept eating.) In my other hand was a slightly wilted purple flower Audrey had found in the neighborhood as we left the house that she insisted I carry.
The trail had gotten much steeper and the drop-off to our left could easily give someone a bit of vertigo. Sanitas Trail is well traveled but you've still got to watch your step. But Audrey kept going, distracted by the rocks and the bushes and asking me a million questions about everything as we hiked.
At last we approached a rocky section taller than she was and I was compelled to pick her up. To be able to climb it myself while carrying her, I had to put the purple flower down. Pointing to it I told her, "Don't let me forget this when we come back, okay?" The trail remained tricky for a bit afterward so I continued to carry her despite her wanting to be put down. (Had she been hiking before?)
It was a hazy day - cool for August - and I noticed dark clouds in the distance. Suddenly nervous I'd be carrying a 3-year-old on a narrow, rocky trail in the rain, I suggested we head down. Audrey's response? "I want to go to the top, Daddy. Up there. See?" She pointed and we were actually almost there. What could I say? Some other (older) kids and their parents looked down from the summit.
We crossed through a narrow jungle-like section, wrapped around to the right and suddenly the trail opened up into a broad field. We had made it! The wind was blowing harder up there and the dark clouds were closer. Other trails stretched to the north and south of us and a group of hikers disappeared in the distance.
"Let's play up here, Daddy!" exclaimed Audrey, but I had to say no this time. "We have to go down, otherwise we're going to get stuck in the weather," I replied. "See those clouds?" Trying to gain time I picked her up and carried her all the way down to the steep rocky section we had encountered before. Unable to climb down it with her I sat her down, climbed down it myself and then reached up to grab her. As soon as I did she said, "Loooook, Daddy, our purple flower!" I had already forgotten about it but there it was, just like we left it. "Can you put me down now?" she asked. I pointed to a curve in the trail below where it became less rocky. "Right down there I'll put you down," I said.
No sooner had I put her down than she wanted to rest. I humored her for a minute as she sat down on a rock but then reminded myself of the clouds. "We've got to keep going, Audrey. We're almost down."
Once the trail flattened out she started to walk fast. "Don't trip," I warned her. "We're still on a mountain." She actually stumbled a few times and thought it was funny. After dropping her apple again and trying to take a bite full of dirt, I grabbed the half-eaten fruit and suggested we get a new one at the house.
Just as we crossed onto the streets of Boulder the rain started to fall. Perfect timing. As we walked back to the house I told her how impressed I was. "That was your first real hike!" I said. But she was focused on picking another flower - a white one this time. "Let's get home before it really rains," I suggested. "Daddy, can you carry me? I need to rest again." Like I said, perfect timing.
