Heights

I'm a bit afraid of heights. Perhaps it's because I grew up in North Dakota where the spring ritual for our track team was to run two miles just to find a small incline on which to run "hills." And then, even that hill was not much more than a dip in the gravel road. Or maybe it's because I have some distant childhood memory of traveling in a Winnebago and making our way around windy mountain roads. I'm not sure why I'm afraid of heights but I'm reminded of it every time we're in Arizona.

This year I told myself I wasn't going to climb right outside Mom and Dad's backyard (the red rock in the above picture). Last spring I climbed higher than I ever had before and well, I guess I thought that was high enough. This year the kids and Dave knocked off that same climb before lunch the other day - they came back happy and exhilerated and I was just as happy that I'd stayed on the ground. On another day I talked them into going for a hike, not a climb. There was lots of complaining going on during that four mile walk (too much walking, not enough climbing) but I was loving every minute of it.

Then came our last day in Sedona. John wanted to make to climb again - not hike - and I couldn't talk anybody into going for a hike around Bell Rock - or even a small jaunt to Cathedral Rock. So while Sophie and Lucy stayed back and made cookies with Mom, I went for a climb with Dad, Dave and John - with every intent of coming back on my own once I felt that familiar stomach tightening.

It started out wonderfully - I was amazed at John's climbing and his enthusiasm for leading us up the wash. He reminded me of Dad with the way he just scrabbled up the rocks. Here's a pic I took right after one of our water breaks.

We kept going and I was feeling great - beauty surrounded us everywhere I looked and the rocks in the wash were solid and strong. We kept climbing and climbing and I started kicking myself for not doing this the previous days.

Then came some loose rock that involved some hunching over and maneuvering sideways on all fours. Dave stuck with John but I could see the look of concern on his face - he knows me well enough to know that I had just reached my limit. But unfortunately, there was no going back down the way we had just come. So I sat, took a drink, and talked to myself. I looked over at Dave, with his smile and his shorts and hiking boots full of red dust and took this picture of the view. I told myself I've come this far and I'm fine - and I can keep going. So I did - slowly and carefully trying to breathe and willing my legs to keep moving.

By the time we all stopped for another water break Dad knew I wasn't doing so well. He came over to me and talked me through a narrow pass full of loose rock, "Hug the rock Marc, hug the rock. Get down on all fours, face it. If you fall you're not going anywhere. Hug the rock, hug the rock. Great job Marci Miller!"

I was less than reassured. By then I knew I had to make it to the top - we could try to find a different way back down but they knew, from past experience, that there was an easier way down on the other side of the rock. So, up we climbed.

John was starting to get a bit nervous - I'm sure I wasn't helping him feel any more comfortable on the rock even though the only thing I said was "Dave, stay with him. I can't watch him climb." Meaning - it was all I could do to worry about myself and worrying about him was making me even more stressed overall...

During this last stretch, Dad was climbing around like a mountain goat above us - back and forth, back and forth, trying to find the best way to get to the top. He called out, "Oh I don't know, we may need to go back down." My heart skipped a beat. Dave whispered, "What do you think?" and I replied, "There's no way I can go back down there." So we kept climbing to where Dad's voice was. John was chattering saying he wanted to go back down when suddenly he came to a complete standstill and exclaimed, "Holy Moly!" I looked up from my position on all fours and reiterated John's words, with a bit more emphasis.

Dad was sitting on the other side of a twenty foot drop - as calm as could be. But it was clear to us we'd have to walk across a ledge less than a foot wide and about eight feet long to reach him.

John was all for it. If he would have had a harness and a rope and been at the climbing wall in Grand Forks, I would have been fine. And although he didn't have those things, he had Dave and Dad and no fear. And he made it look so darn easy - he grabbed the rock, shuffled his feet and made it across without any problem. Then it was my turn. I certainly didn't make it look easy to anybody who might have been watching. The first shuffle step or two were all right but when I felt I couldn't get a good handhold I started to sweat. I willed my right leg to move but it didn't. I felt like my 94-year-old Grandma who has Parkinsons and tells her legs to move but they just won't listen. Dave reached over to it and said, "Move it on 3... 1,2,3." It moved on four... or maybe five.

I made it across and tried not to watch as Dave made his way. From there it was a relatively easy climb the next twenty feet or so to the top. Once we got there and I saw long distances of flat land I sank to the ground and gave a silent prayer. And thought, I don't care if I ever do this again - for the rest of my life.


We rested up a bit and then had a leisurely walk down the back side and around the hill...and I've made up my mind. I'll stick to regular old hiking from here on out.

Back from Barcelona

Dave and I are back - and it feels "oh-so-good" to be home. Carmyn and the kids had a wonderful time while we were gone but I think we all feel better to be together again. This homemade sign welcomed us on our return. Notice Lucy's drawing in the bottom right-hand corner: "Family Flower of Five." How creative. You can just see the emergent writer in John with his writing of random words he knows - in, the at... and Sophie always loves to practice her cursive.

After the kids were in bed last night Rose, our babysitter, came so Dave and I could have dinner at the "happening" local restaurant in town with two other couples. (It was a date set over a month ago - long before the effect of jet lag was considered and certainly long before it hit us.) In honor of the beautiful fall night and all the walking we did in Spain Dave and I decided to stroll downtown. What with all six people and two dogs we saw on our walk it certainly wasn't Las Ramblas but it was nice to have space around us again. I swear that is what I dislike most about traveling - jostling crowds and the constant maneuvering around people.

My feet were hurting (I'd taken an earlier walk as well) so Dave walked back home with Margaret and Jon while I caught a ride (in Emmett's car seat) with Michelle and Paul. What a nice night though - great people, great food, and great surroundings. It is really good to be home.

Barcelona

Dave finished with his meetings yesterday and we went touring with Craig (NJ), Rick (FL), Brian (Ireland), Harley and Lorraine (NJ), and Steve, Mary and Alisha (TX).

We spent the better part of the afternoon at the Sagrada Familia and were astounded at the beauty of it. People were telling me that this place is how the term "gaudy" got its name - after the original architect, designer and builder of it but I just don't agree - it was beautiful even though the work is ongoing.


Remind me to get Fodor's tour book from now on - it had so much more information than my Frommer's. With Steve reading we got a nice explanation of the Passion Facade as well as the Nativity Facade. Our necks got sore as we peered up looking for the boat powered by Joseph and the Holy Spirit.

We then had our best meal (and according to everyone else, the best Sangria) in Barcelona at a little outdoor cafe across the street from the Sagrada Familia.

Street Statues in Barcelona

The first day in Barcelona Lorraine and I wandered down Las Ramblas - the top of it is just a block away from our hotel and it's a leisurely one mile stroll down to the waterfront and the famous statue of Christopher Columbus (Mirador de Colon). The statue is beautiful - tall and full of intricate details but the joke is that he's supposedly pointing toward the New World. In fact, he is pointing the opposite way.

Along the walk there were at least twenty different "people" statues that came alive when people threw coins into the buckets at their feet. Lorraine threw a coin into the "pirate's" bucket and gave a jump and screech when he "Arraghhhed" her. Then he playfully put his sword to her neck for a picture.

The woman rolling the ball was absolutely beautiful to watch and the green troll was pretty fun too - he was a ham for the crowd.

I've been up and down Las Ramblas quite a few times by now - both during the day and at night. I'll just say it's quite a different experience during the evening hours - quite a different experience.

DeSmet, South Dakota - 9 hours of Laura Ingalls Wilder

Our first stop on the Laura Ingalls Wilder tour was to DeSmet - home to Laura and her family in the books On the Shores of Silver Lake and The Long Winter. After lunch at the local DQ, the kids changed into their outfits and we started our guided tour with The Surveyor's House. It was actually owned by the railrooad but the Ingalls family stayed in it each winter, in exchange for keeping careful watch over the railroad tools.

When Laura first saw this house she thought it was the largest house she ever saw - it just goes to show how much we take for granted nowadays. The part they lived in was probably a two-story version of our kitchen and breakfast nook area - on the main floor it included a room that held the stove, a rocking chair, and a table and chairs. Off that room was a pantry the size of a small rectangular walk-in closet, the attic stairway, and Ma and Pa's bedroom they shared with Carrie. The upstairs was one big room the same size as the main floor; that's where Mary and Laura slept. At times Ma rented out sleeping space for men at $0.25 a night (meals were an extra $0.25) and up to 20 men sometimes slept in the main living area. I can't imagine the noise and smell in the house on those nights.

From the Surveyor's House, we walked a few steps to a replica of a one-room school house and then to the real school house which is still being restored after serving as a private home for many years. The kids enjoyed being the teacher and looking for clues about the past on the partially restored chalkboard.

They were so good on the tour - listening so very carfefully to the leader as she told about the house and life on the prairie. In retrospect, we should have got into the car and drove the few blocks to the later home of Charles, Caroline, Mary, Grace and Carrie - they were in such a listening and "taking it all in" mode. Instead, we had them run over to the Discover Laura Center. They loved everything in this place - from the old fashioned stove and food center, to the quill pens and slates, to the old fashioned sewing machine and to the braille station where they made their names out of a braille guide, glue and split peas. Everything was completely hands-on and they were excited. The curator of the museum also came and had them make butter out of cream and a whole lot of shaking. They had a great snack of saltines and hand-shook butter.

The next stop was the Ingalls home I previously mentioned - as the kids were so used to touching everything, this was a little harder. They were, by now, out of listening mode and into exploration. Needless, to say, we didn't stay too long here.

By this time, it was 5 pm and the pageant (play) didn't start until 9 - so we decided to drive around a bit. We ended up at a place we didn't even know about - the Homestead - and stayed there until it closed at 9 pm. This was a huge hit - total exploration and discovery for the kids. They experienced everything from pumping well water, carrying it up the hill, washing clothes, making rope and corn cob dolls (like Laura's Susan), and riding in a covered wagon to a school house for a short lesson. I think they could have stayed there even longer, except they closed at 9.

It'd been a long day so we decided to skip the pageant (after explaining to Evie and Sophie that we already had tickets for Saturday's pageant and there was no way we'd change our minds or miss it) and headed back to the DQ for some supper and ice cream. What a wonderful, but exhausting, day... the next stop on Saturday, Walnut Grove.

Hanging out at Big Owl Road

Today was full of total relaxation – the plan was to complete a short hike at Alberta Falls, attend a nature seminar put on by a Rocky Mountain National Park ranger, and turn in the kids' Jr. Ranger books. Instead, we stayed at the mountain cabin until 3 pm at which time we drove into Estes Park and Sophie and I shopped for her birthday present – a pair of hiking boots for this wonder hiker.

Dave and I pretty much had a “read around” all over the cabin – taking turns sitting in scenic, comfortable chairs and reading while the kids played in the pond most of the day. They made up a game called “Going to Market” where John sat on the pond bridge “fishing” while Sophie took buckets from John and filleted the fish, and Lucy then sold the fish to make-believe customers. Another time when I looked up from my perch from the porch they were scrubbing down the bench, cleaning off the moss.

We’re pretty darn lucky – even though they fight at times and get snappy with one another, overall they do an excellent job of playing together. There wasn’t a single tear or tattle in 7 hours of all-out playing – and this companionship lasted far into the night, through a restaurant dinner with Don and Eunice and through Lego playtime back at the Wilbur’s. While we were enjoying a drink in the living room, the kids were making a Lego town in the basement and Eunice said, “Kids? Do you even have kids?” We took that as a real compliment. Unfortunately, we stayed 10 minutes too late and there was an “angry eyes” look from Sophie and tears from John. All in all though – I don’t think you could ask for three better travelers under the age of 10.

Ouzel Falls – the big hike

We were well prepared for this hike – all 5.4 miles of it. The kids were forewarned of its length and climb (1,000 feet), Dave and I each carried a backpack filled with 4 bottles of water, a first aid kit, oranges and muffins, and I had extra batteries for the camera. It was beautiful – absolutely worth every step. Although the temperature was in the mid 80’s we were, for the most part, cool enough thanks to the rapids and shady overgrowth. The first third of the hike was pretty level – with lots of wildflowers and some nice views of rapids.
The next part, up to the Calypso Cascades was more of a climb but the view of the cascades at the top was so worth it. We stopped there and camped out on a big rock in the shade and ate our oranges and smushed up muffins – and Dave got a chance to stretch his neck and back (see him in the corner of the picture?!). While there we also decided if we should continue on – we could turn back and have completed a 3.6 mile hike or we could go the next .9 mile and get to the falls. John, understandably, was ready to turn back, Lucy wasn’t too sure but when Dave told her he’d carry her Jr. Ranger book and sweatshirt, she was up for the challenge. It was decided – and we set off.

This last third, overall, wasn’t as pretty as the previous scenery – for it passed through a burned area full of gray logs and patches of plant regrowth. It was also pretty windy and much more of a climb – but once again we weren’t disappointed once we reached the falls. The cool air rushing past cooled us off and as we drank water in the shade we watched the water cascading down a rock precipice. Before too long we headed back down – this time Sophie, Lucy and I led – hopping down the path like jackrabbits. Total time: 2 hours up, one hour, twenty minutes down. Well done kids, well done!

"I thought we were going on a hike!"

…so said John as we started a 3.4 mile trail hike (The Pool) in Estes Park. Apparently he is used to Grama and Papa’s house in Sedona where a hike means rock climbing. His disappointment in the dirt trail didn’t last too long; within a few minutes he was looking for flowers and pointing out every time we spotted the stream and little waterfalls along the way. It was the perfect hike for us to start out with – not too strenuous but long enough for the kids to get a feel for the climbing and the unevenness of the path.

John and I turned back before Dave and the girls (I say they only hiked ½ mile more than us, but Dave wholeheartedly disagrees with me – could this be that competition thing we were just discussing last weekend with friends?!?! But I digress…) and stopped along the way back to take off our socks and shoes and dip our feet into the stream. From other hikers we learned the water temperature is a cool 25 degrees but it felt wonderful on our hot little feet. We stayed on “our” rock for about 10 minutes, alternately splashing our faces, sunning ourselves and dipping our feet. As we put on our shoes and continued on, John said, “This is the best hike ever.” I think it definitely rates right up there John – definitely right up there.

(Sidenote: My foot is tired and sore, but less sore than it would have been pre-surgery – definitely worth it! Now tomorrow after we do a 5 mile hike, I might be singing a different tune; let’s hope not.)

Boat Running on Big Owl Road

One fascinating thing about life here on Big Owl Road is the little mountain stream that travels from the mountain to the front of the cabin, underneath it and continues on down. The kids spent most of the morning running the boats from the pond all the way down to a dam of sorts – where two logs have been strategically placed to stop them from traveling all the way downstream. As Dave, Don and I enjoyed our conversation and coffee on the back patio the kids ran back and forth, using their sticks to prod the boats along when they got stuck. I think they could have done this all day long, but alas, the hiking trails called. They’re in bed now, and I’m sure thinking up new ways to get their boats down the run faster than they did this morning – oh, the power and beauty of kids and nature.

Big Owl Road

Dave and I, being true flatlanders, forgot about the sun setting behind mountains and aimed our arrival here in Allenspark/Estes Park to be during daylight. But if we’ve learned anything this trip, it’s that the best laid plans go awry – so as we traveled a canyon road and the sun set in the mountains, we opened the sunroof and all enjoyed the view (as Sophie exclaimed: “The sky is purple and pink and yellow and blue and red…”). By the time we got to the mountain cabin (as John calls it), it was too dark to see anything. Our hosts, Don and Eunice, left a light on so we could see the warm interior of the cabin and hear the stream that runs around it, but other than that it was pitch dark.

I felt at home immediately upon arrival – it has the feel of our old cabin on Lake Eunice but with it are owls. If you’ve been a blog reader from the beginning you know how my mom used to collect owls – they were scattered all through our house in the form of figurines, ceramics, paintings and wood carvings. This cabin, if possible, has even more owls – from my perch (HA!) in the living room, I can look around and see ten. They’re all different – one is the bottom of a lamp, one is macramé, three are pencil drawings, and the rest are figurines. There’s even an owl toilet seat in the bathroom. It’ll be interesting to see if we hear as many outside tonight – so far no luck. But then again, we’re on Big Owl Road, there must be some reason for the name – we’ll keep our eyes open and our heads turning.

Editor's Note: The top photo is the daytime view from the front windows - Meeker Peak.

Mt. Rushmore

It’s hard to believe Dave and I are 40 years old and have lived in North Dakota for most of our lives but just visited Mt. Rushmore for the first time today. It was well worth the wait – and the excitement the kids felt at taking it all in was wonderful. On the way they all talked about their favorite president and we talked about why Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln were picked to be sculpted. John and Sophie’s favorite is Teddy Roosevelt (in large part because of the movie, Night at the Museum, but also because he had asthma as a child, just like John) and Lucy’s favorite is Lincoln – thanks to Mrs. Sherwood and her wonderful teaching. We bought a great book, Who Carved the Mountain? by a SD author Jean Patrick and picked up a DVD geared toward kids on national parks. They earned a Jr. Ranger badge by hugging a tree (ask Dave about that one!) and taking in lots of facts and trivia about Mt. Rushmore. Finally, we went on a hike before getting back into the car and heading off to Colorado. It was a great spot to visit – and very well done.

Editor’s Note: Apparently I have been to Mt. Rushmore – during one of our family trips when I was a kid. I don’t remember that trip though, unlike the trip to St. Louis where I put a lockhold on Dad’s neck and screamed the whole way up the St. Louis Arch.

Holed up in Hotel Spearfish

At 8 am this morning:
John: Mom, my tummy hurts.
Me: Do you have to go poop? Why don't you head to the bathroom?
John (as he heads to the bathroom): It really hurts.
He stops, coughs and BLACHHHHHHHHH!

Dave (yelling): Get to the bathroom John - go, Go, GO!
John (in the bathroom): Mom, my tummy really hurts.

So there it was, our second day of vacation and John and I spent most of the day here in the hotel room, using the Holiday Inn ice bucket for a throw up bucket. (Thank God for bucket liners - remember the days when they didn't have them and we'd scoop out the ice into our buckets and put the ice straight into our mouths? How gross!)

I stayed with sick boy and Dave took the girls to breakfast. Dave, always thinking, brought me coffee and some pancakes. I knew John was pretty sick when he came over for a bite of pancakes, looked at them, turned green and threw up again. As the day went on he got louder and louder during these episodes - what is it with kids and loud vomiting? Or maybe it's just our kids? I'm sure all the hotel neighbors were wondering what in the world was going on in our bathroom, but I give the kid credit - there were at least 10 bouts and only once did anything miss the bucket. I guess as parents we've done at least one thing right - taught our kids how to aim for the bucket.

In between bouts of vomiting, I got a lot of blogging done and Dave got some time with the girls on this Father's Day. They went for a scenic drive down Canyon Road and got to sit by some rapids. Even better, by 3 pm John was suddenly done with throwing up. I'm not sure if I should give the credit to a few sips of Pepsi (thanks for the tip Mom and Dad) or if the virus had just run its course. It just seems too coincidental for the Pepsi to have worked, but who knows... if Lucy happens to wake up vomiting tomorrow, I know the first thing I'll try.

P.S. Just so you're not freaked out about hotel room cleanliness, I told housekeeping about the virus and before we leave I'll leave a note telling them to sanitize the bucket.
P.S.S. When John missed it was on HIS mattress - not on any hotel property. (When we only get one hotel room during travels, we always have "car" pillows for the kids and a crib mattress. We then put the crib mattress on the floor where one of the kids sleeps on it. This trip, it's John's turn.)

Enchanted Highway Pics

I read about The Enchanted Highway in the North Dakota Horizons magazine a year or so ago. At the time, my thoughts were, "This would be a neat place to take the kids and see, but when will we ever get all the way over to Regent, ND?" So I was absolutely delighted when we came across the sign by chance and took our own journey on the enchanted highway. Enjoy the pics and if you ever are along I-94 by Dickinson, take a detour and enjoy.

Papa's Cabin

Even though it was at least ten years between visits, the cabin still felt like home. Not the kind of home where there are smells and memories of childhood, but a home where you've seen someone's dream come true.
Dad first saw this beautiful, uninhabited lake and island (known to our family, friends and the pilots as Miller Lake) over 25 years ago; his good friend Terry (along with his youngest child Gretchen) happened upon it during an afternoon hike. My understanding is the group then camped out on the island for the next few years. It was Dad's dream to build a log cabin and this seemed like the place to do it. Even though the project was started 18 years ago and a few summers after that the cabin was "finished," there's always something to do - and Dad can never just sit still. He and Dave got the floating dock back in shape, repaired the second dock, and even built a boat ramp. For the cabin itself, Dad pulled out the sander one night after supper and took care of some worn spots with some sealer.


The inside of the cabin is just beautiful - most of the furniture including the kitchen cabinets, table and benches, bookshelf, coffee tables, and the four poster bed and its bedside tables were homemade. As you can see, from the pictures, one of Sophie's favorite places to read was perched on the ladder up to the loft where she, Lucy and Dad slept.

Last week during our visit a Game & Fish Warden and pilot dropped out of the sky for a surprise visit and Kurt, the warden, asked Dad if he'd ever built a log cabin before. Dad smiled his crooked smile, put his head down a bit and offered, "Well, haven't all little guys? I used to stack one Lincoln Log right up on top of another." Kurt, Hap (the pilot) and Dad all chuckled and Kurt said, "Well you did a mighty good job for your first one." We all agree.

We're heading for vacation...

While Dad, Dave, Sophie, Lucy and I head 650 miles north to the wilderness and water of Canada, John will stay here with "Big Carmyn." Remember her? She's like a seventh aunt to the kids and a great friend to both Dave and me. All the neighbors have agreed to help her out, have them over for dinner, and provide plenty of playdates.

Dave's rule for the kids being big enough to go to the cabin is that they have to be able to read chapter books - that's why Sophie and Lucy get to go and John stays. This will be Lucy's first time, Sophie's third time, my third time (although the last time I went was before I was pregnant with Sophie), Dave's eighth time and Dad's fortysomething time.

So, unlike this last time, there will be a "real" reason for the blogging hiatus. We will, after all, be staying on an island where there's no human civilization for miles and miles, we bring in all our own supplies (except for the fish we'll be catching and eating) and have no electricity by which to blog. What we do have though is assured rest and relaxation, lots of books to read, and an awesome log cabin to stay in - one that was built by Dad and a host of others (including Dave) over 18 years ago. We're off - next time I see you there'll be lots of pictures of our time "up north at the cabin."