For a week, Husband and I explored parts of Colorado with Daughter and Son and their families. “First stop tomorrow is the Poudre River,” Son announced and the Grands giggled.
“Did Uncle Eric say pooter?” eight year-old Elaine asked, then she put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
“Actually, it’s the Cache La Poudre (pronounced pooh-der) River and you’ll like it. It’s a good place to throw rocks.” After breakfast the next day, six adults and eight children, ages 4-14, loaded into three vehicles. One carried bicycles on top so Son 2 (aka son-in-law) and the four older kids could ride the Poudre trails and the rest of us prepared for a fifteen-minute walk along a dirt path toward the river.
Carrying water, snacks, sunscreen, and insect repellant, we adults walked in front and back, and the two youngest cousins, Ann and Jesse, held hands as they walked. Ann, who has visited the Poudre River many times, said, “We get to walk on the wiggly bridge!”
Six and eight year-old cousins Neil and Elaine paired up and rocked the wooden suspension bridge from side to side. “This is more fun than walking!” said Elaine. She and Neil hopped across the bridge.
The Poudre ran full and swiftly. Its shoreline was covered with rocks, from small gravels to rocks big enough to sit on. A large willow tree with exposed roots and low branches grew beside the riverbank. The Grands immediately threw rocks in the water and challenged each other. Who could throw the farthest? Whose rock made the biggest splash? Who could throw five rocks at one time? And Elaine and Neil often said, “Watch me throw this rock in the Pooter,” and then laughed.
After a bit, the four kids wandered from each other. Jesse, age five, found a walking stick and walked the tree roots, nature-made balance beams. Four-year-old Ann collected the shiniest, tiniest rocks. Neil and Elaine threw leaves and sticks in the river and then tried to hit them with rocks.
Husband and Son skipped rocks and all four Grands counted loudly the number of skips across the water’s surface. The kids were determined to find perfectly flat rocks and master skipping. Over and over they slung rocks into the water and when one skipped, even once, all celebrated with applause and cheers.
Another thirty minutes passed before Daughter and Daughter 2 declared it was time for snacks and water and a second sunscreen rub down. Afterwards, Jesse used his stick as a shovel to dig softball size rocks from the ground. The same size rocks lay on top of the ground, but with Ann’s encouragement, Jesse dug several and then together he and Ann made the biggest water splashes or so they claimed.
A different trail from the river led us through marshland and the Grands stopped and squatted to watch ants scurry around a huge anthill. Back at the parking lot, we met the bike riders and our eight Grands talked at the same time. All were sure they’d had the most fun. They were wrong. I did, but I didn’t tell them.
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Filed under: Grandchildren, Uncategorized | Tagged: Colorado, Poudre River, Skipping rocks |
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