Dead Horse Point And More -- Big E

 

Me and My Grandpa. Couldn't beat the view or the wildflowers!

 

My snowman in July...Shel Silverstein would have been proud since he has a poem about snowmen -- no matter how hard they tried couldn't stay alive in July...and mine did! (I posted the poem at the end.)

 

Wild Daisies

 

Wildflowers everywhere! Which meant lots of butterflies, too. It was so beautiful. If only I could've been carried, then the day would've been perfect.

My Grandpa is a horrible driver. Lil' E can prove it. He threw up in the backseat, got car sick because my Grandpa drives crazy. He got sick twice. Threw up all those waffles Mimi made him. It was like being on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland was how crazy he drove...all bumpy and jerking. I felt car sick after about an hour of this but they never once stopped for me. Lil' E couldn't get them to stop either, until he threw up all over. Then, Grandpa stopped. Right after Dead Horse Point, which takes one way driving to a new level. Dead Horse Point, named after a pack of horses which fell down the mountain because it was so narrow, made me want to get out and walk. It was crazy. I could sit in my seat and look straight down the mountain, and I mean straight down. Of course, I wasn't scared of falling down the mountain; I was sick of having to drive crazy with bumps and bumps and bumps. However I noticed my mom stopped talking and focused straight ahead until we passed the turns of Dead Horse Point.

My story actually gets worse. Once we got to the top, we had to get out and hike. My mom didn't listen to me when I told her I was sore from our walk two days before to town -- four miles away. I had asked if I could come. She said it would be really hard and she didn't know if I should come. I reassured her that my legs were strong, me being a gymnast and all. Well, two miles in to that walk, my feet were killing me and I wanted to stop. Didn't my mom know that I couldn't handle four miles! I'm only seven and a half. She should have known and NEVER let me come. How was I supposed to know what four miles really looked like? I hear the word four and think, "Easy! No problem!" "Four-- three points down from seven." "I can handle anything less than seven." I did make it but not before needing to sit and rest about fifteen minutes from the end.

But, I've lost my story. I was telling my mom that I was still sore from that walk and I couldn't do a new hike. I wanted to stay home with the kittens. She said, "No, I couldn't stay home." (What else would my mom say? She's the one who doesn't know what the word vacation means.)

So, she drags me up to this mountain, 35 miles from Canada and made me climb to not one, but two ridges. My legs hurt. I could've stumbled and fallen down the mountain. (The trail was NOT safe; it needed to be wider!!) She didn't care. She just told me that I could do it and I needed to focus on parts of my body that felt strong. There were none!! Some help she was.

I admit, it was all worth it in the end because I got to make a snowman in July. This reminded me of one of my favorite authors, Shel Silverstein who wrote this wonderful poem about snowmen in July. (I'll write it at the end.) On the way back, I was first in line. I didn't complain one bit. My mom's position in the line? Last? Now who's the strongest? (It doesn't count that she stopped to admire the whistler, pica, and ground squirrels. I could have done that AND kept up.)

Next time, she'll have to let me stay. After all, someone needs to hold the kittens all day. They need me.

Still the Kitten Whisperer,

Big E

Snowman

'Twas the first day of springtime,
And the snowman stood alone
As the winter snows were melting,
And the pine trees seemed to groan,
"Ah, you poor sad smiling snowman,
Said the snowman, "What a pity,
For I'd like to see July.
Yes, I'd like to see July, and please don't ask me why.
But I'd like to, yes I'd like to, oh I'd like to see July."

Chirped a robin, just arriving,
"Seasons come and seasons go,
And the greatest ice must crumble
When it's flowers' time to grow.
And as one thing is begining
So another thing must die,
And there's never been a snowman
Who has ever seen July.
No, they never see July, no matter how they try.
No, they never ever, never ever, never see July."

But the snowman sniffed his carrot nose
And said, "At least I'll try,"
And he bravely smiled his frosty smile
And blinked his coal-black eye.
And there he stood and faced the sun
A blazin' from the sky --
And I really cannot tell you
If he ever saw July.
Did he ever see July? You can guess as well as I
If he ever, if he never, if he ever saw July.

Shel Silverstein, Where the Sidewalk Ends