Tour de Parks

Yes, it's October, but it's a beautiful sunny day, and this puts me in a mind to thinking back about some of the things we did this summer that I haven't yet posted about. So let's go back in time to July and a dazzling Saturday afternoon! This day was Cousin *P's birthday, so after helping her celebrate at a pizza 'n play place, we went to Downtown Hillsboro for a fun family event: the Tour de Parks! This is the fourth year that they've held this kid-friendly bike ride, where families can choose from three different lengths of courses that take you all around Hillsboro and through the city parks. We ended up on the medium-length route and saw six different parks while we rode through town.First order of business, we got Alton settled in his child seat on the back of my longtail bike with a water bottle and snack--I have made small "leashes" to tether his water bottle and snack cups to the straps of his seat for trips when he'll need them. In the picture below, you can see him holding his water bottle while the snack cup (with spillproof lid!) is the small white circle dandling just above my left heel. The stretchy leashes are just long enough to give him freedom of movement with munching or sipping, but not so long that they actually get in the way of my pedaling. He likes to drop whichever item he's currently not using to the side, then tells me that he's "going fishing" when he reels his eatware back up.

Andy held our small digital camera to take pictures on the ride. Here you see us riding in line with some good friends, the Zawalski family. The orange child seat is mounted onto my friend Fabi's bike--she has an extended frame bike, like mine, also equipped with bags so that she can haul gear, groceries, and more! Unlike my bike, however...she carries two kids on hers! One child seat mounted behind her for her daughter Alton's age, and one smaller seat balancing the weight by being mounted to her frame in front of her seat for her younger son. I ride ahead of her with Alton in his blue seat, and Fabi's husband Gabe takes the lead in front of me in his orange t-shirt. We were quite a parade!

Here you can see the two "big" bikes riding in a line!

Through Walnut Street Park.

Turning off of Baseline Road, one of my favorite major streets to ride in Hillsboro because it has a dedicated bike line and runs East-West through the whole city. It can get me many places!

At the end of the ride, the City of Hillsboro was hosting an awareness event on Main Street about environmentally-friendly choices. Information was dispersed about green power choices, saving water, etc. There were also food vendors and free popcorn for kids. Alton was happy to sample!

After some relaxation in the shade beneath the trees to eat our snacks, it was time to load the kids onto the bikes again and head home. Below, Alton and I pose with our Xtracycle "Radish" next to Fabi's Surly "Big Dummy" (no, I don't know where the brand came up with that name, although it's a honkin' big bike frame) with her two kids. Matching bike baskets and all! A fun day to ride with friends, and we're so glad that we have buddies to share our hobby with.

Birthday Bike Tour to McMinnville

At the beginning of this month, Andy and I took a small bike tour sans child. It actually started as simply a "getaway" weekend, generously made possible by Andy's mom, Jennifer (Grammy to Alton). Asking us what we'd like for birthday gifts (both of our birthdays are in September), we queried whether we could exploit her newly-retired status and have her babysit Alton at our house for a few days. Since we were no longer working around her teaching schedule, she very kindly made herself available to us and we were able to find the most inexpensive flights with no school days to accommodate. Score! A very, very big thank-you to Jennifer Rhyne for making this whole birthday trip possible; Alton had so much fun!
Once we knew that our few days alone together had been carved out on the calendar, we started researching where we'd like to go. The one and only other time that we were both away from Alton for a whole night when my Mom and sister stayed with him, we'd ventured into downtown Portland for wining and dining, but we decided that with two days at our disposal we wanted to go someplace new. We looked at the Columbia Gorge, the mountains down in Bend, the coast...but I was researching the fun and historic McMenamin's Hotels when I found our perfect spot. The "Hotel Oregon" is located in downtown McMinnville about 40 miles south of us, and saving our trip to the Evergreen Air and Space Museum, we'd never even ventured down to this city to spend any time.
A couple of times, as we were suggesting possible destinations for the trip, we'd tentatively suggested the idea of making it a bike tour, but there were so many variables to consider before lodging that decision in the affirmative. How far was our potential destination? What would the weather be like? Would there be anything to do nearby, or would we have to mount up and ride miles and miles just to get to a restaurant? All of these are surmountable obstacles, certainly, but this trip was meant to be romantic and relaxing, not a motocross challenge. Aha, our Hotel Oregon! A quick search online found it to be about 35-40 miles away, with a previous bike-friendly farm road route posted by another bicycle tourist. The weather seemed wet but mild as far out as we could predict it. And the hotel's corner roost in the middle of historic downtown McMinnville proved to be easy walking distance to myriad shops, restaurants, and diversions. Sold!
Since we didn't have to worry about packing any camping or cooking equipment, Andy offered to haul the weight of our bike trailer carrying just our clothes bags and other road essentials (bike tools, patch kits, etc.) and keep the majority of the weight off our bike frames. We outfitted my rear rack (usually occupied by Alton's seat!) with a small trunk bag for maps and essentials, then threw our snacks into my new bike basket, a birthday gift from my parents. For this trip, both Andy and I opted to take our hybrid bikes, the ones with the lightweight frames and larger wheel diameters for extra nimbleness on our short tour. Mine had been recently outfitted by the aforementioned new basket and other birthday gifts, including fenders from my in-laws. This baby is as comfy as she's going to get!
We left home on a Sunday morning (we initially planned our away dates in hopes of taking advantage of slower weekday hotel rates), ready to hit the road by 9a.m. I was poking through our pantry and refrigerator, searching for portable-but-filling snacks to take with us, and Alton was clamoring to Andy to read him a book. Andy had the trailer packed and was pumped and ready to go, so he giddily checked his watch and asked me, "I'll just read him this book quickly, and then you wanna go?" Um, what about breakfast?! I was not about to begin our journey with no food in my stomach. Andy is always worried about too much food settling like a lead weight into his midsection, but I knew that the country roads we'd be traveling would offer little or nothing in the way of sustenance. After some quick bowls of cereal, we were ready to shove off.

We headed off to the farm byways south of our house, double-checking our turn-by-turn directions against the signposts. Happily, on an overcast fall Sunday morning there was hardly any car traffic, so we rode easily within earshot of one another to chat about our plans and surroundings. Early on, we hit a couple of short-but-steep hills beside horse pens and farmhouses that left us sore in the legs and panting, then swept quickly down one long, curvy grade that felt extremely ominous when we contemplated its position in the last quarter of our mileage on the way home. Aiming our bikes down, we passed swampy inland grasses, sloughs, trees, one or two small produce stands (if they'd been selling anything but gourds and tomatoes, I might've stopped!) and finally took our first real stretch break beside a tangle of wild blackberry bushes. With half of my morning coffee still warm in my insulated Klean Kanteen bottle, I carefully navigated my bare calves past thorny vines and stretched my hands out to pick the last of the season's juicy blackberries. Some were good...and some were tart!

As the hands of my watch neared 11a.m. and we wound our way down on the country roads, I kept my eyes open for signs that read..."Open!" McMinnville is part of the Willamette (remember: Wil-lamette, it rhymes with "dammit") Valley wine country, and we'd be wending our way past some wineries to reach our destination, too. Since it was already October, it might be that these tasting rooms were already closed for the season (not all of them stay open for public tasting through the winter months), but on a Sunday morning there was a good chance that the weekends-only places would be ready for customers. So I kept my peepers peeled for evidence that the wineries we were passing had not shut down already. I told Andy, "We're here to have a good time, not make good time, right? How about the next winery we pass...we stop there?"
Well, as with all simple, easy plans...you can imagine this went straight down the drain. The next winery was a beautiful sage-green shingle posted right on the edge of the country highway to mark a gravelly driveway, with gold letters pointing the way to "Penner-Ash." We turned our bicycles in, shuddered and juddered across the gravel until the rocks gave way to another paved section, then cycled right past the huge barnlike structure on the side of the road that I'd taken to be the winery (it was actually a private residence). Here, the road turned up...and up...and up. Straight up. We had to walk our bikes, it was so steep. We're walking the bikes, peering hopefully around every curve in the road, expecting to see the warm lights of this elusive tasting room...but nada. A couple of cars passed us going down the road, but they were going just fast enough to make it awkward to try to flag them down and ask, "How much farther?!" (In retrospect, we should have realized that their speed was due to relief at zipping downhill on the way back to civilization; i.e., this place is in the freakin' Boondocks.) We persevered for far too long, then gave our pathetic climb up for lost and coasted back downhill to the main road to continue our journey. Clearly, what we'd taken for a driveway was a mere mile marker, and a glance at a map of local wineries confirmed that, even on the "not to scale" drawing, this Penner-Ash place was shown quite far off the beaten path. Darn.
Undeterred, we pressed on and before too long found another contender, a winery whose elegant, subtle "Open" sign was at odds with the kitschy, merlot-hued flag snapping merrily in the breeze and punnily urging passers-by to "Wine a Bit." We could see the building, the real one, from the road, so we turned up yet another gravel drive and parked our bikes on the vacant deck outside.

At Laurel Ridge, we availed ourselves of restrooms and water bottle refills before sampling some wines and purchasing a souvenir bottle to haul home (thanks, Andy!). With our Penner-Ash detour of futility and our lingering with sore tooshes standing up at the tasting room bar, it was time for us to scurry down the road to get to civilization for a real lunch (at this point, we had not passed any towns' commercial areas). We crammed some crackers into our mouths, the last of our road snacks, and pedaled on.
Up, down. Up, down. We cycled up and down hills, envisioning the turns of our route and where the cities would lie. I could feel myself getting cross and crabby with hunger (taking care to warn Andy of my cranky mood!), and finally we rolled into Lafayette, a teeny hamlet just a hiccup away from McMinnville. We passed a small Mexican grocery/carniceria and immediately turned into the parking lot, a few fat raindrops splashing around us. Luckily the rain kept to a drizzle while we hastily ordered a little food (quesadilla for Andy and tacos for me) and wolfed it down, unsure that we'd find any other open restaurants (or restaurants, for that matter) on this little main drag on a Sunday. Temporarily fueled, we hightailed it the final 10 miles into McMinnville.

Before the trip, I'd done a little restaurant research for the McMinnville area, and was dying to go to a French bistro that my friend Elizabeth had told me about. A quick check on their hours had revealed that they were NOT open on Mondays, the fuller day of our trip, so if we wanted to patronize this establishment it would have to be on Sunday, our arrival day, or not at all. But they were only open for dinner from 4-7pm--would we make it???
After getting to the hotel, checking in, availing ourselves of the hot showers and securing our bikes, we had plenty of time to stroll down the street (The restaurant was located just a few blocks away in the historic downtown! Great, because even with Advil I couldn't have mounted that saddle again....) and still be the first people to arrive at Bistro Maison for dinner.

Despite the splashy rain accompanying us on our walk, we got to the restaurant perky and hungry. We seized our menus and over-ordered wildly, selecting a fondue appetizer, charcuterie plate, salads, wine, pasta, cassoulet.... At one point between courses, we sat and sipped ice water as the hostess passed our table, then leaned in and assured us that she was "pacing our meal, because [we've] ordered quite a lot of food!" I was abashed enough to assure her, "We rode our bikes 38 miles to get here; don't worry, we're hungry!" And hey, we still looked great!

However, we were stuffed to the point that we had to pass up dessert, reminding one another that there was an old-fashioned ice cream parlor just across the street from our hotel for later treats. No need! Andy crashed out on the bed with all the lights on by about 6:30pm, and although I tried valiantly to stay awake later so that I would not be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at three in the morning, I was also asleep a little after 8p.m. Riding and eating take it out of you!
The next morning, we hit the internet to see what businesses were open, since we were finding that McMinnville was a small enough town for places to be closed on Sundays, Mondays, or Tuesdays. I have mentioned that the hotel's location in the historic downtown was very convenient for walking tours, and I'd definitely recommend this place to anyone looking for an inexpensive, short-term stayover. Although the hotel offers a few rooms with private baths, the "vintage" status means that many more of the rooms have a shared bathroom down the hall, with private toilet and shower cubicles in separate men's and women's facilities. While this was a little less than luxurious, the hotel provided two pristine white robes to each room for modest passage to the facilities, and we were staying for such a short time that we knew we'd spend most of our time sightseeing and little time in the room lamenting our lack of a bathroom. With a Sunday/Monday stayover, we had nearly the whole floor to ourselves, anyway.
Plus, they let us keep our bikes in the room! No worries about overly securing and rainproofing our rides out on the street or in some out of the way storage facility. We were able to wheel them into the tiny elevator, park them next to the heater, and leave them in place until our departure to give our tender bums a rest. Andy borrowed a "fisheye" lens from his coworker, which enabled him to shoot a picture of our entire spartan room at once.

Above the wicker basket of my bike, you'll notice a blurry portrait painted on the wall. All of the rooms were both numbered and named after people, whose stories were inscribed on the wall in paint as well; ours was the namesake of a former midcentury hotel chambermaid called "Rosie." She and her portrait creepily kept an eye on us while we were in the room.


Our rough plan for the day in place, we set out on Monday morning, first to the bakery next door for coffee and breakfast rolls, then down the street to find the adorable local toy store to find a present for Alton. The most major streetcorners have these hand-painted hands to guide nonlocals on their way in the direction of things like "Public Library," "Fire Dept," "Evergreen Air Museum," etc.

Presents in hand, we dropped them off in the room and consulted our maps once more to decide where to go for lunch, settling on a local microbrewery called "Golden Valley Brewing." With a hot lunch in our stomachs, we covered our heads and set out in a downpour to a tasting room a couple blocks away for vino sampling and respite from the rain. Andy snapped photos of the wine barrels with the winemaker's adorable dog on his heels, then we selected another souvenir bottle to take home.

Back on the downtown main drag, we availed ourselves of that old-fashioned ice cream parlor before making our way eventually to the hotel's historic rooftop bar. After our day of walking to and fro, I elected to bring a book for our afternoon relaxation, while Andy stalked the outdoor deck between raindrops to try to take panoramic photographs of our McMinnville views.


We were finally hungry again for dinner despite stuffing ourselves all day, so we walked just across the street to 3rd Street Pizza, where second-run movies are shown on a single screen in front of movie seats equipped with low counters in front of them--you can order and eat your pizza while you watch! We saw the comedy "Horrible Bosses" while we dug in to our pie, a definite treat to add to our weekend away since we rarely go to the movies.
Similar to our camping bike tour, after the first night's rest I felt exhausted, sore, and so stiff I was sure that I would not be able to move most of the day. After popping some Advil, doing some easy walking, and going to bed early on Day 2, I felt better, but still grumpily wondered how I would fare after our second night's stay, when it would be time to ride home. What if I just couldn't do it? What if I got on the bike, and my butt was so sore that I cried and had to call someone to come drive me home?
Worried as I was, the ride home was great! We were better fed, prepared with plenty of snacks, and the thought of returning home to our little dude was galvanization to keep the ride momentum going rather than dawdle at little roadside stops or wineries (not that any of them were open on a Tuesday morning). We made much better time, the Advil kept my soreness at bay, and since we were prepared for the hills and dips of the route, I think we paced ourselves much better. We opted to return home through a slightly different end to the route to avoid that long incline that would've shattered us in the final 10 miles of the trip, so instead we rode through the towns of Forest Grove and Cornelius, which had the added benefit of giving us a place to stop for a much-needed bathroom break. It seems that for my level of experience and the distances and types of routes we've been taking, the M.O. of arriving, having a day in the middle to kick back with NO biking, then returning home is okay!
We were welcomed by a huge downpour as soon as we hit Hillsboro city limits, but we were too pumped up to care. We made it! What a fun trip, and one we'd definitely make again.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I know, I've been super-slow on blog posts lately. It's my hope that I'll have a little extra time to work on them now that Alton's started preschool and he'll be extra-busy for a few mornings a week. But first I wanted to say a big thank-you to my wonderful and handy husband, Andy, for my early birthday gift.
As you might have noticed, with the addition of some new rides in our gear lineup, we've been riding our bikes more and more lately, choosing two-wheeled power not just for cruise-around trips to the local park, but for things like
grocery store shopping...

camping...

reading...

having fun...

...and even pizza delivery?!

Right around that good 'ol tax return time, Andy purchased a commute-ready lightweight hybrid bike, with just enough mountain bike suspension and stylin' to make it fun for him to ride. My new one is more of the "station wagon" of bicycles (and as someone who has owned and loved her station wagon, this is a positive thing), an extended frame "longtail" bike equipped with cargo bags, leaving enough room for Alton's child seat, a full grocery store trip, and even (as you see above) an extra-large pizza!
But what about our old bikes, you might ask? Andy's old "mount" was a heavy-framed mountain bike originally owned in high school by his brother Zach, so he used some heavy-duty hooks to hang it from the ceiling of our garage, ready to get muddy and dirty the next time Andy has the opportunity to go mountain biking on a local trail. When I was ready to get my new bike, I tried hard to figure out a way to fit the sweet carryall bags on my old bike, but it was a no-go. When the Portland bike shop owner suggested that I just keep my old bike and get a new one to serve my cargo purposes, I thought she was nuts. Two bikes?! Who owns two bikes?
Well, welcome to Portland, Katie. If I was going to try to bike more and drive less, I soon saw that it made sense to keep my own nimble hybrid bike around for trips when the heavier "mom bike" would be too much (plus, Andy and I agreed that if we sold my old bike secondhand we'd never be able to get as much as it was worth). I was now the proud owner of two awesome rides!
Which brings me back to my birthday gift. Seven years ago, Andy bought me this silver Marin hybrid bike for a birthday gift, back when we were newly engaged and living in California. We would ride together around city streets and country roads for fun and for exercise. Here is what the bike used to look like (photos of me with Alton three years ago, when we'd first purchased his "baby" bike seat in June 2009!):


But my hybrid had also been built to appeal to a wide range of users, including the mountain bike crowd. With straight handlebars that left me slightly hunched over and pedals covered in big pointy plastic spikes (great for muddy shoes on offroad trails, but ready to tear up the skin on my calves every time I accidentally bumped into them while riding around town), I found myself reluctant to ride the old Marin when my new upright cargo bike was so comfortable. Enter Andy, former bike mechanic! For my birthday this year, he pimped my ride, with nice swoopy upright handlebars, smooth, skid-free pedals, soft cork hand grips, a second water bottle cage (two bottles for two riders--now Alton and I don't have to share the same one!), and even a spiffy new bell. Throw in some longer cables to extend the brakes and gears and follow the curves of the new handlebars, and this baby was ready to go! Andy purchased everything a few weeks ago and surprised me, then got to work turnin' wrenches so that my bike makeover was ready in time for my birthday. Can't wait to take her out on the roads! Thank you, sweetie!

Edit: I spoke too soon! Here is my bike with the sweet woven basket that my parents gave me for a birthday gift. Add in the fenders that I'm going to get while shopping with my mother-in-law this weekend, and I think that my sexy city bike is ready to go, ja!

Alton's First Day of Preschool

Today was Alton's first day of preschool! I have lots more to tell you all about our summer, and I'm sure I'll have plenty to tell about the preschool itself, but here's a quick post just to show you how much fun he (we) had today.
We take the seminal picture at home before leaving to go to school on the bike. For this first day, only half of Alton's class (9 kids today, but usually 18 total) attended school with their parents accompanying them all morning. I got to have fun and play with Alton the whole time.

He and his good buddy *K from our playgroup. Happily, *K is going to the same preschool as Alton! The preschool is a co-op, which requires a lot of parent interaction, including parent-teaching in the classroom twice a month. I'm good friends with *K's mom Marinda, so I'm glad to get to see my friend at preschool, too! Below, *K and Alton ease into their first day at school with some parallel play. The table is filled with dried corn (currently, but the teacher periodically rotates what item is inside the table to heighten interest and help them learn new things) and also has many containers nearby in which to scoop or pour it.

Alton gravitated toward the transportation section of toys, of course.

He filled this wooden plane with Duplo people and nnneeerooom! It was time for takeoff.

This large wooden truck has a removable lid, so Alton zoomed smaller cars and trucks into and out of it with the lid serving as a makeshift ramp. Then he and his little friend *K put the lid on the big truck and rode it around!

Alton's teacher takes his picture.

The two of us on the first day.

Alton sneaks a glance at his fellow classmates during a fingerplay song.

Storytime on the carpet.

He gets a hug from the teacher's raccoon puppet.

He was enthralled with the group interaction time!

Outdoor playground time! We were "warned" ahead of time that the class goes outside to the playground pretty much every day, rain or shine. It's a good idea to keep boots and a raincoat at school at all times! We've been experiencing overcast fall weather in the high 60s this week, despite our 99 degree heat wave over the weekend.

He snags a wheelbarrow and looks for some dirt.

The teacher laid some wooden boards across a stump and a platform, then stepped back to see what the children would make of this. Alton and his friend Kasen fearlessly cross the elevated path, then later grabbed trucks to drive across it.

Dump truck time!

He hugs his teacher goodbye on the first day!

The Other Vancouver

So just to clear up any confusion, we are talking about Vancouver, BC, Canada, NOT Vancouver, Washington. The latter sits on the Oregon-Washington state border, just across the Columbia River from Portland, so when you tell locals that you are going to Vancouver, they are not sure whether to gush to you about British Columbia's lush greenery, or ask, "Why, do you need pseudoephedrine cold medicine from Washington?"
We departed from Victoria in the morning and rode another car ferry about 90 minutes to Vancouver. Following our poorly-photocopied map, we navigated our way through traffic to get from the city where the ferries dock over to downtown Vancouver. This was to be our last hotel stay out of only a scant few along this whole trip, so once again we were looking forward to relaxing in a slightly more luxurious setting.
So you can imagine my shock and fear when I stepped up to the front desk of our tiny "boutique" hotel and they had no reservation for us. Nada. Due to some Expedia.com glitches on Expedia's part, the hotel had record of a cancelled reservation for us while I held a confirmation number from Expedia (not to mention a charge on my bank account) that led to nowhere. Ordinarily, this might not be a big deal on a Tuesday night in a busy downtown area full of hotels, but Vancouver's hometown hockey team, the Canucks, were playing in the Stanley cup for the first time in about a million years. Their first game was tomorrow night, at home, naturally. There wasn't a hotel room to be had in all of Vancouver.
Luckily, the young, chain-smoking Turkish gentlemen who ran the hotel were professional and sympathetic and managed to rearrange things so that they could accommodate us. We had to switch rooms after the first night of our stay, but the remaining three nights were all in the same room AND they gave us complimentary parking. They were delighted to hear Alton's name, because "altin" is a Turkish word for "golden," and was the name of one of the women on the housekeeping staff! Alton could not figure out why everyone at this hotel did such a great job remembering his name all the time.
Phew! After finally getting the car parked in the underground garage and our luggage up to the room, we walked down the street to dinner and picked up some tourist pamphlets in the hotel lobby to begin planning our activities for the next few days. Our hotel was situated on a busy street crowded with shopping (right on the edge of one of their city fashion/shopping districts), tiny delis and hole-in-the-wall restaurants, fancier bistros, grocery stores, and high-rise apartments and hotels. We selected this place mainly because of its proximity to Stanley Park, a giant city greenspace on the north side of Vancouver that houses museums, walking/hiking/biking trails, the boat marina, some playgrounds, the seawall, and the Vancouver Aquarium. Seemed like a perfect place for a sightseeing family to decamp and enjoy themselves for a few days. Once we parked the car, we never moved it the entire four days we were in town; we walked to every meal and activity! (And besides being a great city for strolling, we were so impressed with how "green" Vancouver is. Very ecologically-minded, and pretty much every city cab we saw was a hybrid vehicle. No ancient sedans idling at curbs around here!)
With Stanley Park being at the peak of our interest, we spent the first day at the Vancouver Aquarium. An easy stroll on paved walking trails past the boathouse and marina, we arrived at the aquarium to great Nemo fanfare:

One of the things the aquarium is known for is its great northwest mammal exhibits. Dolphins, seals, sea lions, otters...

...and beluga whales.

The four sweet beluga whales (including one baby beluga...hee) had viewing areas both under and over the water. We sat bathed in bluish light down below for awhile, watching them swim back and forth.

Then we headed abovedeck for the whale show, where the trainers with microphones got to introduce the belugas to the crowd and talk about some of their species' traits. Of course, the whales also got to show off how well they can spray the onlookers.

Besides our blubbery white friends, Alton was also fascinated by the touch pool, where Daddy lifted him up to stroke a finger on sea stars, sea cucumbers, and other squishy creatures.

Some of the indoor displays were pretty stunning, too, like the jellyfish.

Although he was so entertained by the fountain out front, for a minute I wondered whether we should have saved ourselves the admission fee and just played all morning in the water.

Our walk back to the hotel.

The next day, it was up and dressed in our best rain gear to walk a few blocks up the street to another hotel, where we caught a free trolley ride!

The trolley took its travelers north just on the edge of the city, where concrete jungle gives way to trees, trees, and trees, and the Capilano Suspension Bridge.

The bridge began as simply a way for a landowner to get across the Capilano River back in the late 1800s, but preservation of land and historic points of interest eventually turned the Capilano Suspension Bridge into a small park of adventure that looks like something out of Disney's Frontierland.
The biggest draw of all is obviously the bridge itself. With reinforced steel cables anchored in 13 tons of concrete on either side of the canyon wall, you inch across the gently swaying planked path 230feet up above the rushing river below. Add in the steady rain of our morning's visit (although the bridge is well-prepared for this, with great traction the whole way across) and I had to hold Alton's hand to keep him from running across the bridge. Let's goooo!

Once across the bridge, there's lots to see and do, including the Treetops Adventure, which is a series of little tree platforms connected by more suspension bridges, about 100ft up off the forest floor. You scurry from tree fort to tree fort like a squirrel!

Peek-a-boo Alton refused to wear his rain hood--he's from Oregon, after all. His hair clung damply to his forehead as he giggled and hid behind trees and wondered why all these people around him were bundled in free plastic ponchos.

Huck Finn, hanging out at a little fakey river house on the creek.

Heading back across the bridge; Andy waited for a clear shot to give you some perspective of how high, far, narrow, and steep the suspension bridge is. Any acrophobes ready to puke now?

Time to get this pud muddle back home! We wait for the trolley with hoods on after a stint under the hand dryer in the bathroom to dry out a bit. Notice the yellow poncho-ites behind us; Andy and I were stifling our giggles when one gentleman tried to put on the poncho, lifted the skirt of it over his head, then couldn't find the head-hole and stood peering up into a yellow plastic expanse and "swimming" his arms around trying to find the hole to poke his head through. Hee, hee.

After our soggy day in the rainforest, we braved the wet weather once again and walked to a fancy French restaurant to warm up over soupe a l'oignon and white wine. One sweet waitress produced a piece of butcher paper and some crayons for Alton, which he proceeded to color, and color...and color. Some of his best work, and we rolled it up to take home with us since it had finally stopped raining!

Our chipper walk home in the wild northwest summer daylight: is it 9pm, or 3pm? Who knows?!

Alton does his best Gene Kelly impression, even if he's not technically "singin' in the rain."

The next morning, my two guys went on a very considerate coffee run and decided to make it a photo tour as well. Alton expressed interest in using Daddy's big, heavy (expensive) camera, so Andy took some strap-wrapping precautions and let the little guy snap pictures of things he thought were interesting. In addition to lit-up, scrolling signs, Alton expertly framed this shot of a tree outside our hotel...

...and a picture of Andy...taking a picture of Alton...taking a picture.

Our last full day in town called for some two-wheeled sightseeing.

We decided to rent bikes to circle the 5.5mi seawall path around Stanley Park, and it turned out to be a beautiful sunny day for our ride. We were really missing our bikes on this trip and didn't have too many exercise options ("hiking" at a toddler's pace is what most people would call...shuffling), so we were excited to get a chance to wake up our leg muscles. Alton was hitched to a small trailer attached to Andy's bike, and we snapped a quick photo op before closing his little "door" and setting off down the trail.

The trails in Stanley Park are great: one-way, for the most part, so you don't run into much oncoming traffic, and clearly delineated which side is for walkers and which side is for cyclists, so no worries about running into pedestrians. Then there are plenty of small side areas with benches for you to stop and take in the view. Here we paused just outside of the marina, where we got to see a few seaplanes taking off and landing.


Lion's Gate Bridge, which we'd ridden over in the trolley the previous day to go to the Capilano Suspension Bridge. At the base of the bridge on the park side is Prospect Point & Lighthouse.

We perch on the low wall overlooking the water for a picture; I'm clutching Alton's arm!

The snowy hills surrounding the city of Vancouver--anyone up for skiing? (Heh, not me.)

A little more riding and we came across a playground with such a cool old-fashioned fire engine to crawl all over!

More pictures.

This narrow plastic beam is actually a groovy slide!

One more pose before hopping on to ride 'round and return the bikes; everyone's in helmets, naturally.

We earned our last dinner in Vancouver, which was at a lovely Italian place a few blocks away.

We partook of their amazing antipasto appetizer (a little of everything--we didn't get all of this, unfortunately!).

Alton was ready for a giant plate of pasta of his own...

...while Andy and I feasted on gnocchi, carbonara, and Italian libations. Delicious!

The next morning, it was time for a quick coffee and muffin while packing up, then southward to the U.S. border! Unlike the dusty chaos of the Mexican border, our farewell to Canada involved a picturesque "peace arch" and lots of well-tended green lawns.

We're home!