Hardscrabble Times

OK. So I rode something that doesn’t have long ears. And with all due respect to Dr. Seuss, it was great fun.

Today we received a used Trek Mountain Train tag-a-long bike, a gift from The Great Divide in Pueblo and one of the store’s customers. We had told Harrison we were getting a “Zike-Bike,” which you might recall from “Marvin K. Mooney, Will You Please Go Now.”  I immediately hooked it up to one of my mountain bikes and we gave it a try on the dirt roads around the house.

Boy howdy — talk about having to learn how to ride a bike all over again! Remember, I’m a 50-year old fossil and have a hard enough time keeping my own self upright on two feet. Keeping a 45-pound autistic boy (he doesn’t seem to understand the consequences of shifting his weight around, and pedaling is entirely optional for him), plus another half of a bike, balanced on three wheels is, well, let’s just call it a reawakening of the senses of balance and danger.

Back and forth we pedaled on the flat dirt road southwest of the property. Then I tried the cul-de-sac, and even managed to negotiate the turn there without putting a foot down in the soft dirt. Harrison thought the ride was a blast, particularly when we hit bumps in the road.

It was actually a lot of fun for me, too, especially once I began to relax. My visions of cruising the nearby Adobe Peak forest roads may be a ways off, but I think this thing’s going to be a great addition. Still, at this point I must admit I’m more confident on the back of a donkey.

Easter Sunday kayaking on Dry Lake at Bear Basin Ranch.

OK. OK. All right, already. No, I didn’t turn 50 and run off into the sunset. The truth is I just haven’t had a collected thought in, well, more than a week. Give me a break. I can join AARP now.

It’s been spring break. Without much of the spring. Although during this staycation we did enjoy two trips to Pueblo Reservoir to check out the trails there with our burros. What a great trail system, with lots of Southwestern scenery, tall sandstone rimrock and not really a lot of people. The thermometer hit 83 there one day and 78 the next.

And then spring was over.

We lasted out the rest of the week battling the mud and the wind and the actual running and standing water.

For Éostre there was a little break in the weather. I got in a good run and then decided to try something we hadn’t done locally before — kayaking. There’s a little pothole called Dry Lake that holds water in some of the wetter years. This spring it’s about as full of snowmelt as I remember ever seeing it in 19 winters.

So we loaded up the boat and drove the couple miles over to Dry Lake. There I put on my leaky fishing waders and pulled Harrison around in the kayak. He thought that was just great fun.

Of course, I had to get in the boat and paddle around Dry Lake, too. Just to say I’ve kayaked in this place that many would think never holds water. I may be 50 now but I’m not exactly what you would call a grownup.

A late winter view of the Sangre de Cristo range from the Wet Mountain Valley south of Westcliffe. Click on the photo for a larger view.