Making memories

By Sunday the kids were going stir crazy. We decided to get them out of the house and do something to burn off some of their energy, but something where they wouldn't be around a lot of other kids, just in case they were still contagious with the chicken pox. Nearby is Henry Cowell State Park, which has the San Lorenzo river running through, and a nice paved bike path along a mile of it. It was a little cool because the fog was starting to come in, but we had a nice time picnicking near the river, hiking across, and even floating one of our rubber duckies in the tranquil water.

Kevin and the kids crossed the river and explored the opposite bank. The train trestle in the background is where the Roaring Camp Railroad passes from Felton to Santa Cruz and back.

Kevin and the kids in the water.



















Riding our bikes along the path.

It took some persuasion to get K back on her bike when her little denim skort was soaked and cold, but she did it. What a trooper! I rode behind everyone else, taking shots of the kids as they rode along the river trail. This is the last shot I took before K stopped right in front of me. As bad luck would have it, I was steering my bike with my left hand (the "front brake" hand) and holding the camera in the right hand. You can see that the camera survived. I, however, had one of the worst 5 mile-an-hour bike crashes ever. I couldn't run over my baby, and I wouldn't let the camera hit the ground either, so I locked up the front wheel and when the bike suddenly stopped, I didn't! My groin and legs danced the tango with the neck and handlebars of my bike while the top half of me met the pavement with gusto . My elbows took a good scraping, as well as one knee. I think holding the camera saved me from breaking a wrist, because I wouldn't let those precious pictures hit the ground. What I really have to brag about are the fantasmic bruises I have on my inner thigh and groin! I think these are the best (or worst) bruises I have ever had. The kids had to ask me what they were when I first showed them. Maybe one of these nights I'll post a picture of the inner thigh bruise. It's a bruise to be proud of.

Kevin turned around after hearing K's cries. How disturbing for a 5-year-old to see her mama laying on the ground, bleeding! She was more upset than I was. He untangled me from the bike and helped me up, and we all rode back to the car.

When we got to the car, I gave the kids each a Bactine towlette to clean my scrapes. It made the whole crash worth it, to be nursed by my babies. And they loved helping mommy. It's my hope that little things like this will keep them from getting squeamish, too.

A little bike ride along the river to make some memories, that's all Kevin wanted. Well, I think the kids will have some memories of that trip. I do.