First family bike ride of the year

Smiles and fun wrapped in pink.

The weather today was simply terrific. Sure, I know that in this geographic setting we really shouldn't have a 65 degree F day in mid January, and I know it is likely indicative of much larger macro-scale problems, but it is certainly nice on the micro scale. So, we did something with what we were given.

It turned out to be the first family bike ride of the year. Preceding the ride itself, Lil Sis had her first experience sitting on the back of the Big Dummy. At first I just wanted to see if she was big enough to sit in the seat, so I plopped her down and fastened the seatbelt. She immediately started making appreciative noises and grabbed the handlebar. The girl is a natural bike rider!

Big sister hopped on the back to give some pointers, and I wheeled them both around the back yard. Though Lil Sis is not yet big enough to really ride on the Dummy, she's well accustomed to the trailer. I can already sense that this is going to be a big bike riding year for us all.

Snacking en route, comme d'habitude. 

Ever-ready co-pilot with me up front.

It's not really possible to get us all in one shot using the camera phone. Julie brings up the rear.

Post ride, the girls tested the accommodations in the wagon.

In other news, as happens around here from time to time, another bike has joined the fold. Not inordinately surprising, I'm sure. Those of you who happen to be vintage mountain bike junkies may be able to discern some info from the following photos, but specific details will have to wait for an upcoming post. In short, the nearly pristine blue Miyata seen below represents something of a white whale for me.

Okay, it's a 1984 Miyata Ridge Runner.

If you were to think the tire seen here is a Miyata branded stock original that's been on this bike for the past 29 years, you'd be right. 

Gratuitous cute kid pics, with a fatbike thrown in for good measure

This evening, the girls were ready early for trick-or-treating.

October has been sparse in activity here, but not in real-life activity. Rest assured things have been quite busy around the old bike ranch, so busy in fact that this oft neglected blog has once again nearly shriveled up. So, to make up for the neglect, at least in part, the following are a bunch of photos that are chock full of seasonal flavor. Enjoy!

To start, a couple of weeks ago, our local farm had its annual pumpkin patch sale. As has been the case in the past few years, it was a cold, wet, muddy event. We quickly dashed in, grabbed our pumpkin and got out.

Our furry little creature seems to enjoy sharing the ride with a large vegetable.

We braved the drizzle long enough to have a little fun along the way.

A week or so later, the weather was nicer. I took the opportunity to test out the Daddying capabilities of the Pugsley. The results were quite positive, however riding in rain or dust would undoubtedly result in dirty, unhappy conditions for anyone riding in the trailer. A nice layer of snow, on the other hand might be different. I have a set of kid-sized skis that quite likely have a future in place of the wheels on the Burley trailer at some point this winter. A fatbike pulling a ski trailer is something that I haven't yet seen anywhere else. You are correct in determining that my benefactors at the National Science Foundation are getting their money's worth out of me. They encourage us to color outside the lines.

Pugsley power. How does Big Fat Dummy Daddy sound?

Aww, how cute.

Scout has been with us for 11 months now, and is a changed, confident dog.
Though, we haven't mastered 'sit' or many other non-bike related commands quite yet.

Last night, we finally got around to pumpkin carving. Big Sis drafted the plans and I did the knife work. She decided to go with a classic design, talking of the design process of the mean girls who drew on Charlie Brown's head during It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown. Deftly, I avoided volunteering my sparsely haired, pumpkin-sized head as drawing material. By the way, this year's airing of The Great Pumpkin was asininely scheduled on Halloween night at 7:00 by the brainiacs at ABC. Don't they realize that's exactly the wrong time to air a traditional Halloween special, because no one will be at home to see it? This conflict is obvious to everyone except a network executive, apparently.

In any case, I'll have to say that the results of our pumpkin project turned out quite good. As is the case with most farm-raised pumpkins, the seeds were perfect for roasting.

This is what happens to eyes when a flash illuminates an otherwise completely darkened room.

The girls' eyes aren't so bugged out in a room with the lights on.

This morning, the girls were up early to get ready for the day-long sugar fest that is Halloween. I continue to be astonished at how the holiday is an entirely different experience as a parent. I confess that Halloween and Valentine's Day are not as popular with me as I edge ever closer into becoming a grumpy old man.

The costumes turned out pretty good this year. Julie sourced the pumpkin costume and parts of the Word Girl costume. As the seamstress of the family, I sewed the satiny cape and constructed the Word Girl emblem on the red shirt. Her venerable red rain boots filled the role as superhero boots. For those who aren't parents or at least viewers of afternoon PBS programs, Word Girl is actually a quite entertaining and intelligently written show that is a gem among programs aimed at children. It's well worth checking out, especially for the quirky villains.

All dressed up and ready to go. 

Our little pumpkin.

Word Girl is ready to fly.

This coming weekend is fatbike Halloween for the Denver area. At least, that's what I expect the Unicorn Petting Zoo as advertised by Surly and Salvagetti to approximate. I'll bet on more beer and fewer pumpkins, however. I plan to make my way over to meet some of the Surly goofballs from the mothership, rub elbows with many of my fellow fatbike colleagues from the region, and throw a leg over a Krampus or two. If I survive the encounter, you can count on a report right here at some point in the future. That is all.

Waterton Canyon family ride

The girls at the Waterton Canyon trailhead.

We went out on a grand family outing today, lasting much of the day. This ride was originally slated to happen yesterday, but a few things cropped up to delay it until today. Apart from the fact that it takes roughly the same amount of preparation for a ride like this as it did for the D-Day invasion of Europe, we missed certain windows of opportunity associated with nap time.

In any case, we were all loaded for this morning, and got to the trailhead at a good time, for us that is. However, the little issue of one of my crank arms nearly falling off almost resulted in disaster. I had decided to ride my single-speed Surly Cross-Check, and in preparation the previous day I'd swapped some 130 BCD cranks with a 46 tooth ring for some 110/74 BCD cranks with a 34 tooth ring. This was something that I'd been meaning to do for some time, but the prospect of towing a trailer uphill for several miles spurred me to action. Yet, apparently I had insufficiently tightened the non-drive side crank arm bolt, and the damn thing decided to mutiny on me after a few hundred yards. After a hurried trip to a bike shop for a wrench and a crank arm bolt, while I left girls temporarily stranded on the trail to have lunch, everything was once again in order. Off we went.

The shades are for speed.

My bean green, single-speed Surly Cross-Check as the tractor towing the Burley trailer.
Note the custom cowboy shirt sun shade. 

During the heat of the day, the shade of the canyon was refreshingly cool. We took our time, which, as anyone with kids will know is the only really viable plan of action, and stopped whenever we felt it necessary. It's a slight, but consistently uphill ride all the way to Strontia Springs Dam, and I new that maintaining positive morale among the ranks was essential if we had any chance of going all the way. Luckily, spirits remained high and muscles held out. It didn't hurt that the scenery was terrific and a light, pleasant breeze was working in our favor. The miles rolled by under our tires.

Rolling past ancient rock.

The Cross-Check tugging the trailer under a full head of steam.

Waterton Canyon is idyllic this time of year.

We had a bit more extended break at the bridge, where we snacked some more (thanks for the gingerbread, Oma), threw a few rocks in the water, and took some photos. It's easy to get used to being out of town with some dirt beneath our feet.

The convoy taking a break.

A rare photo of the whole crew captured in one shot.

Me and the girls. I'm happily Semi-Rad today, and actually living up to it.
For what it's worth, I'm definitely in favor of doing over watching.

This can be taken at face value.

The girls. Yes, we're living the dream.

We made it to the top with everyone still smiling, with the exception of the baby who was happily snoozing away. It seems like she's always slept a bit better with a little bit of jostling, whether in a stroller or in the bike trailer. Big sister showed her climbing prowess by sprinting the last several hundred meters just before we stopped for a little rest at the turnaround spot near the dam. Then she got off her bike and climbed any rock she could find. This girl is a climbing fiend.

The whole crew assembled in the complimentary self-portrait mirror thoughtfully installed along the trail. 

A friendly little flying beetle of some sort. Can you I.D. it Tarik?

A couple of sisters having a good time.

Getting down the fundamentals of drinking out of a bike bottle.

Boulder, conquered.

The girls in front of the Strontia Springs Dam.

On the way back down, we got to enjoy the fruits of our labors, alternating between coasting and pedaling for miles. Initially, big sister sought out any ruts or washboards she could find, because as she noted, "I like the bumps." After a while, she concentrated on speed, finding the smoothest parts of the gravel road. She also discovered the 'aero' position by crouching behind her handlebars. I must say that she can scrunch down into a pretty small profile; not much of a target for the wind to hit.  She really cooked up some speed.

Coasting.

Speed demons.

Just when you're least expecting it... 

...she springs into attack mode.

The views along the canyon continued to be impressive, even more so into the late afternoon. A few clouds moved in and diffused the light in ways that neither my camera nor limited photographic talent could capture. When we were most of the way down, we encountered a small group of bighorn sheep grazing along the banks of the South Platte River. A little further down, we saw several mule deer crossing ahead of us.

It's hard to top views like this...

...or this.

This sheep was sporting a radio collar.

They seemed not to be concerned with the human users of the trail.

On the other hand, the deer remained more aloof.

By the time we got back to the trailhead, we had logged about 12 miles. This was a milestone ride for a lot of reasons. It was little sister's first trail ride and longest ride ever. It was her's longest ride while riding on her own bike. It was Julie's longest ride in probably about 10 years. In addition, she also acknowledged that it wouldn't be bad to have a bike with fatter tires for these types of rides, so I may have a to put together a mountain bike for her.

As for me, it was my first ride in which I packed up the whole family in the van to go to a trailhead, as opposed to just leaving our house on bikes. Ordinarily, I am not strongly in favor of driving somewhere to ride. However, in the end, driving was worth it. We've got great places to ride immediately adjacent to our neighborhood, but it wouldn't have been feasible to leave from our house on bikes and get to Waterton Canyon. Perhaps in a few years things will be different. In the mean time, I foresee quite a few more rides like this one, where we are able to explore more of the family friendly trails in our part of the world.

As a postscript, after we got home, we encountered another milestone. Lil' sis did a number of perfect, stiff as a board, Marine Corps pushups and seemingly tried to figure out how to coordinate her arms and legs in a locomotive motion. She is likely only a short time away from crawling. We're simultaneously excited and frantic about the prospect of a self-mobile baby in our not yet fully baby-proofed house.

This kid will be crawling in no time.

Labor Day picnic ride on the High Line Canal trail

View from the Big Dummy.

I'm not ready to acquiesce to the common perception that Labor Day is the end of Summer. It just doesn't feel like it. For the past week or more, the temperatures have been in the 80s and 90s, and look to maintain at roughly that level for some time. Besides, the calendar says it's still Summer until September 22, and I'm sticking with that date.

Regardless of my peculiarities with acceptance of seasonal change, the rest of the family seemed ready for a ride. With the day off from work and school, we assembled the necessary items to have a nice ride to a favorite picnic spot. While I was packing the cooler, filling water bottles, and checking tire inflation, Julie made sure that the baby's fuel tank was topped off. Lil Sis has recently taken up the big girl pursuit of eating food. On the menu today was a first experience with carrots, followed by sweet potatoes, the old standby of her food eating career, which now spans a little more than a week.

The only problem she has with eating is when the spoonfuls don't arrive quickly enough.

Once we were loaded and fueled, we hit the trail. We selected the High Line Canal trail as the focal point of the day. The High Line Canal trail system meanders about 66 miles throughout the Denver Metro area, beginning at the outlet of Waterton Canyon, where just a couple of days ago Nicholas and Lael entered the Colorado Trail. The High Line Canal system is one of the best easy recreational features of the region, and has a long history in the development of Denver and surrounding communities.

The canal and a parallel maintenance trail were originally built in 1883 for the purpose of agricultural irrigation. As agriculture gave way to urban development in the modern era, the canal is only intermittently filled with water, but the trail has become the premier non-paved trail system in the metropolitan area. Because the trail runs parallel to the canal, any changes in elevation are very slight. The trail only occasionally intersects with streets with motorized traffic, and often underpasses have been constructed to facilitate crossing major roads. Parks and recreational facilities are located throughout much of its length. Additionally, the High Line Canal has long supported more vegetation than ordinarily occurs in our semi-arid region, meaning that much of the trail is shaded by Cottonwood and various other trees lining its course. All of these features make the High Line Canal trail an excellent choice for recreational family riding.

Our little bike convoy cruising along the High Line Canal trail.

Shady parking for the trail train.

Hungry riders chowing down, while an alert dog makes sure nothing goes to waste.

Most of Denver and its suburbs have views of the mountains of the Front Range. Though peaks and forests may appear to be crystal clear and not too distant, for us, the mountains and even the foothills are just too far away to be readily accessible without hopping in a car. Little verdant oases like those sprinkled along the High Line Canal trail and elsewhere within our part of the metro area are easily accessible by bike, and allow us to feel as though we got away from the city, at least for a little while.

Our first objective was lunch, and as I was carrying the bulk of the food, I was more than happy to redistribute it to everyone else. After putting a big dent in the food, we spent some time looking at crayfish and other aquatic life while cooling off near a section of Big Dry Creek. During the heat of the day, finding a little bit of water for cooling off makes a ride just that much more fun. Both human and canine components of our group took advantage.

Darting little fish hide in the shady outcroppings along the banks of Big Dry Creek.

For a cattle dog mix, presumably with an ancestry in parched, landlocked environs, Scout sure seems to enjoy being in water.

Smiling in a snazzy bike outfit, thanks to the ever stylish Fixed Gal.

There were plenty of people out on the trails today, many of them riding bikes. From an informal accounting, the majority of bikes seen were mountain bikes of multiple vintage, but a wide range of other variants were represented. Single-speed cruisers, skinny-tired road bikes, and recumbent trikes, all plied the unpaved trail.

However, our bikes, loaded with kids and equipment, a sizable cooler, various picnic paraphernalia, and a dog pacing alongside, still deviated noticeably from the norm. After four years, the Big Dummy still draws about as many looks and questions as it did when it was new. Julie's Breezer Villager is now more than 7 years old, and remains her favorite bike of all time. It has a comfortable upright riding style that is perfect for her purposes, and has required remarkably low maintenance. It's just about the perfect Mommy bike.

The Surly Big Dummy continues to be a do-it-all family truckster of a bike.

The Breezer Villager carrying its share of the load.

As we took our time, alternately riding and stopping to check out playground equipment, we started to get hot. At some point, some of us began to accurately predict when "rain" might selectively shower individuals in our group. Of course, the source of these showers was quickly found to be errant streams from water bottles, arched just right to drench unsuspecting riders. This degenerated into an all out soaking of everyone involved, with some protest but little complaint.

Just prior to a full-scale escalation into a water fight.

Scout knows that at the end of every ride...

... a welcome dip in her water tub is awaiting.

So, that was the bulk of our Labor Day. Just remember, Summer is not over. Here's to its continuation for at least the next 19 days.

Our girls, little and big. Ages 6 months and 7 years, respectively.

Lest the occasion slip by unnoticed, welcome to the double 20-year old club, Jennie. Drinks are on me, next time you're around.