Sharing a slice of Rocky Mountain life

July 4--Independence Pass, Colorado: Windblown snow fell heavily, cutting our visibility to a few yards. Frigid gusts of wind rocked our loaded tandem as we slipped our feet into the toeclips and started our descent. As we gathered speed, I reached back with a numb hand and patted Cindy's arm. Behind Cindy, Bitsy was bundled inside a down vest, pillowcase and stuff sack; she was the only warm one on the bike.

This past summer Cindy (my wife), Bitsy (our Yorkshire Terrier) and I toured the Colorado Rockies by bicycle. Our route included the highest paved passes on the continent and immersed us in spectacular scenery. It took us to the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, the San Juan Mountains, Mesa Verde, Aspen and Vail, Ouray and Georgetown, and the Rocky Mountain National Park. Along the way, we descended to less than 4,800 feet and struggled up to over 12,000 feet. We shivered through snow and wilted in 100deg heat; we were burned under cloudless skies and buffeted by thunderstorms.

Riding in style. On the bike, Bitsy rode in a discount-store wire basket strapped to the rear rack over our sleeping bags. The basket had a wire and nylon cover that could slide up for protection from rain or sun and down for more open sight-seeing.

Riding high on the back as she did, Bitsy attracted a lot of attention. She had her picture taken constantly; wherever we stopped, people gathered around, exclaiming how cute she was and asking if she was enjoying the trip. Near the Dillon Reservoir, a passing car slowed so that a woman could lean out to take a video of Bitsy cruising along, face in the wind, scanning for ground squirrels. Bitsy took all of the attention in stride, calmly allowing people to pet, fondle and nuzzle her. She didn't even get a swelled head.

One of the best things about our trip was the characters we met along the way: dreadlocked mountain bikers in Telluride, sophisticated craft store owners in Steamboat Springs, fifth-generation Mexican workers in Silverton. We ate pita pockets in vegetarian restaurants served by tie-dyed, crystal-wearing ex-hippies; we ate fresh steaks in cafes hung with elk heads and signs that contentiously proclaimed, "We have no non-smoking areas." Wherever we went, we found Coloradans consistently friendly, generous and open, as if people there have not yet "discovered" big city bustle and stress.

Sharing the action. We like to bring a taste of this different slice of life back to the students at our urban girls' school, The Bryn Mawr School, in Baltimore, Maryland. We also want to share the very best part of our trip with our students: that Cin and I did it together.

With its grueling grades and capricious winds, Colorado really made us work for our miles, and we earned them as a team. There is no better feeling than reaching back to grasp your mate's hand as you glide down a spectacular valley after climbing a pass, two feeling as one.

While every trip Cin and I take gives me photographs and rock samples to use in the classroom, I hope students also learn that fossils and slides of folded mountains will mean more if they get out and explore the world for themselves. The concept of air pressure will become real if they breathe the thin air of the high passes themselves. Past glacial action will mean more if they crawl up the face of a headwall on their own. If, while climbing a pass, they rest among Aspens, snack in Spruce and top the pass above treeline, they'll see the relation between vegetation zones and altitude.

Lessons in life. By bringing elements of our journeys back to our school, we also hope that we encourage kids to see their world on campus as just a tiny part of a whole. If they hear about places where people herd cattle and grow Bing cherries for a living, where stuffed coyotes are run-of-the-mill decoration and cars sport "Have a Spotted Owl for Lunch" bumper stickers, it helps them gain a larger perspective.

We also teach them that you can be 40 years old with a resting pulse in the forties; that you can climb the highest mountains or sit in the shade and read all day as you wish, if only you keep fit. Most of all, we tell kids that every step we take is richer for sharing it with a loved one. If we encourage kids to travel by using our travels in the classroom, we do an important job. If we influence kids to share life with someone they love, why, that's the best job of all.

Bill Nelson teaches middle school science at The Bryn Mawr School in Baltimore, MD.

Copyright Early Years, Inc. Nov 1994
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