Spring Break Training

I didn't expect to be going to Boot Camp. No one prepared me for this. Spring break training in Arizona. In the morning we hiked 4 miles around Bell Rock and Courthouse Butte. Three of the boys had bikes and the rest of us hiked. That worked fine until we got to the steep upgrade with a sign that said "No Bikes--$300.00 Fine." The 13 year old, the 5 year old and I continued the hike up, up and around Bell Rock. Did I mention up? My husband biked back the easy downhill with the other boys (he must have planned that). My 5 year old is pretty tough but 4 miles uphill in the heat is a lot. I had to give him a ride. Just 40 pounds on my back. No weight training needed today. My husband meets me at the van with water. "I thought you were going to be mad at me." I say nothing. I get in the van just for the sheer pleasure of sitting down.

After lunch, we headed out on what was supposed to be a scenic drive so we could all have a break. Sixteen year old had other idea. Let's ride the bikes on the Chuck Wagon Trail to The Devil's Bridge (a magnificent natural bridge) in the middle of nowhere. It was the nowhere part that caught me off guard. There I was mountain biking on a single track that wound up, over, down, in between. Rocks? Cactus? Hairpin turns? More rocks? Steep, sandy dry gulch? Yes, me and the 8 year old pushed our bikes most of the way. Isn't that what mountain biking is all about? Crusted in red sand, bruised, sun-burned and raked by sharp branches, we made it back before dusk. "Are you okay?" asks beloved husband when we finally make it to the van. In sickness and in health. Gotta love this family.

By mom.

Flamingo

Monday, March 12th.
Today we started off by walking/biking to Oak Creek. My parents and my youngest sibling were walking. The rest of us were biking. About a quarter way down, I traded with Mom. She biked. Aka, walked the bike. We had to go uphill instead of riding the bikes. The bikes were being carried. Once we arrived at a sign that clearly stated they didn't want bikes on the trail, we had a problem. We decided that the weaklings, my Dad, older brother and the second youngest brother would go the easy way back on the bikes. My youngest brother, Mom and me carried on. The terrain was quite steep in some places and we had to help Ellis.

When my Mom wanted to take photos of us Ellis would become a flamingo. We had to ration out what was left of the water. When Ellis was tired he would ride his "pony." Eventually, after walking 5 miles we arrived at the car. We returned to the hotel then went for a drive. The drive was supposed to be "scenic." Depends on your point of view. No pun intended. On our way to an undisclosed restaurant a battle erupted in the car. Where should we eat? I was all for a Mexican restaurant a teacher-friend of Mom's recommended. Elliott wanted a Ribs restaurant that the same friend had also recommended. The younger ones wanted a very cultural restaurant: The Golden Arches. We decided against the Ribs. So, Elliott wanted Subway. Another cultural restaurant. We decided to go Mexican. In the US. The food was delicious.

Ethan

Spring Break Training Continues

March 13th, 2012
Ha! And I thought yesterday was Spring Break training. That was simply the warm-up. Since I was still able to walk after getting out of bed in the morning, my 16 year old and I went mountain biking. All was good until I actually put my rear end on the bike seat. Bike seats were not designed to match the female anatomy. Oh, tender. As this is a family blog, I will forego an anatomical description of the raw (quite literally) details. I was in for the long ride. My son headed off with me chasing behind. This time, I was pretty determined to actually ride more than walk the bike. We went up, down, up, down, around and more up. "Mom, you need to pedal more." "Mom, you need to lean back behind the seat on the downhills." "Mom, stand up on the pedals." My quads screamed. So did my lungs. I was sure he was trying to kill me. I began thinking some not nice things about my son. No, these were not nurturing, motherly thoughts. And then we turned around and came back. He flew ahead of me. We whipped down Llama Trail, joined onto Bell Rock trail, hung left onto a side trail and flew down the curves, bumping over the rocks, flying along the slick rock. I let out a few wild yells. "Yee-haw!" Even the hikers moved out of our way. One hour and 45 minutes later, we arrived back at the motel. It was so-much-screaming-fun, I may never come back to work. I love my 16 year old.

Climbing up the steep Cathedral Rock

But that was just the morning. We checked out of the motel and headed over to Cathedral Rock for the short, but steep, "hand-over-hand" climb up to the top of the butte. Did you read "hand-over-hand?" Yes, this was a strenuous rock climbing adventure. The 8 year old shot up the face of the rock with the 13 year old chasing. "Stick with him," I yelled. "Make sure he doesn't jump off the ledge at the top." My husband and I flanked the five year old and up we went. The 16 year old bounced back and forth between our groups. Up, up and up. More up. Slick Rock. Smooth. Steep. Only a crack to go up in places. Steep, red, glowing rock. And at the top, a sheer ledge overlooking the valley on the other side. Of course, the boys all took turns walking out to the tip of the ledge and hanging off it. See picture. See mom freak out.

Coming down was a slippery challenge but it was a fabulous thrill of a hike.

We are in love with Sedona.

Cathedral Rock

Tuesday, March 13th.

Early in the morning, my mom and older brother ditched the rest of us and went biking. We had to pack the car. Then we left the hotel. Next, we went to climb a mountain. We hiked climbed crawled up Cathedral Rock. Except me, I ran up and jumped down. We went up about 1500 meters. Then we took some photos that resulted in us getting into places which caused Mom to wring hands, bite fingernails and generally be very anxious and nervous. We got really high up but then Mom wanted to go back. On the way down I just jumped down cliffs. Pretty fun. And pretty worrisome for Mom, which made it all the more worthwhile. And then we left Sedona. I'd love to go back there.

Ethan