Post by reuben on Jan 29, 2017 12:34:55 GMT -8
Raspberry, aka ALM (Awesome Little Man), aka other stuff, went on his first hike in the woods with me today. He's my 3 year old grandson.
We did the hard part along the water first - single track, cut into the side of a steep hill, lots of tree roots (beech trees), deceptively slippery leaves (the top leaves are dry but plenty of moisture is under them, creating a surfboard effect), and the small and big hills. Going up the last hill, which is the big one, he was jabbering away while climbing over the tree roots, which led me to believe that he'd ace the whole thing given that it was all flat once we reached the top, which is more or less the halfway point.
But he got very quiet and very slow, indicating that he was tired. Lots of false positives. He's tired, he's not tired, he's hungry, he's not hungry, he's thirsty, he's not thirsty... and so on.
I took one shortcut and should have taken an earlier one, but eventually we finished the flat section and got back to the car. It was a loooooonnnnnggggg slog. He liked the kids water bottle I bought for him, but what really amazed him was that it fit into the water bottle pouches on the side of my daypack. "Whoaaaaa, that's cool." I didn't let him know that pretty much all backpacks have pouches like that. No reason to turn the kid cynical at 3 years old. Let him dream.
After a few more conflicting tired/hungry/thirsty signals, we stopped for a smoothie. He was bummed to find out that there's no such thing as a chocolate smoothie (fruit, apparently, is overrated), but the chocolate chip cookie perked him up a bit.
He semi-crashed a few more times on the drive back to his parents' house, but displayed brief flashes of energy. He wants to do it again, but we need to make it shorter.
And now, the coup de grace. The denouement. The climax, the grand culmination, the pinnacle, the summit, the apogee.
He shit in the woods. On his very first hike.
Unfortunately, grandpa didn't think to take a trowel on such a short hike, and with all the tree roots and stuff it was pretty much impossible to even dig out even a little with my shoe, so we, uh, left a trace. Well, he did.
We did the hard part along the water first - single track, cut into the side of a steep hill, lots of tree roots (beech trees), deceptively slippery leaves (the top leaves are dry but plenty of moisture is under them, creating a surfboard effect), and the small and big hills. Going up the last hill, which is the big one, he was jabbering away while climbing over the tree roots, which led me to believe that he'd ace the whole thing given that it was all flat once we reached the top, which is more or less the halfway point.
But he got very quiet and very slow, indicating that he was tired. Lots of false positives. He's tired, he's not tired, he's hungry, he's not hungry, he's thirsty, he's not thirsty... and so on.
I took one shortcut and should have taken an earlier one, but eventually we finished the flat section and got back to the car. It was a loooooonnnnnggggg slog. He liked the kids water bottle I bought for him, but what really amazed him was that it fit into the water bottle pouches on the side of my daypack. "Whoaaaaa, that's cool." I didn't let him know that pretty much all backpacks have pouches like that. No reason to turn the kid cynical at 3 years old. Let him dream.
After a few more conflicting tired/hungry/thirsty signals, we stopped for a smoothie. He was bummed to find out that there's no such thing as a chocolate smoothie (fruit, apparently, is overrated), but the chocolate chip cookie perked him up a bit.
He semi-crashed a few more times on the drive back to his parents' house, but displayed brief flashes of energy. He wants to do it again, but we need to make it shorter.
And now, the coup de grace. The denouement. The climax, the grand culmination, the pinnacle, the summit, the apogee.
He shit in the woods. On his very first hike.
Unfortunately, grandpa didn't think to take a trowel on such a short hike, and with all the tree roots and stuff it was pretty much impossible to even dig out even a little with my shoe, so we, uh, left a trace. Well, he did.
