It sounded like a great adventure.  It was.  It became another great lesson, too. 

When I first heard about my son's field trip to Hanging Lake, I jumped at the chance to go along.  An autumn hike,  3 miles almost straight up/down to a gorgeous lake along a spring fed creek?  Of course.  With forty 1^st and 2^nd graders?  Not gonna miss that.

I've done the hike countless times, and I wouldn't hesitate to take my son on a family-style trip, but I have to admit, picturing those little kiddlets being carpooled to the trailhead, climbing the trail (including that scary part at the top with stairs cut into the rocks and a thin metal rail along the edge), learning about the area, and having a picnic lunch all in a half day trip seemed more than a little optimistic.  I know about the concept of little kid excursions being similar to herding cats from teaching skiing, and this was no small adventure.  I anticipated a late start, scattered kids needing help over the rocks and multiple steep sections, and the possibility of a turn-around half way.  I pictured car sick kids and blistered feet, lost lunches and tears (from teachers and chaperones, not kids).  I imagined dirty looks from independent hikers expecting a quiet trail day mid-week in early fall, shocked to encounter our group.

I was completely wrong.

Kids organized adults before we left, and the teachers were ahead of the game with rides, lunch coolers and positive attitudes in place.  We got to the trailhead, directions were shouted, and the kids started plowing up the trail. I have to admit, my kid probably listened better than I did, I was busy taking pictures and being distracted, and ended up at the back of the group at first.  I did my best to motor up the hill with them; it was a bigger workout than any other time I've done that trail with visiting family members (or even on my own, to be perfectly honest).

Once again, I couldn't avoid the fact that my 6 year old son if fast becoming a strong, smart individual without me.  He didn't need my help on the trail, grasped the information from the teachers better than I did, and still had energy for a bike ride later at home. 

It reminded me that this ski season will be interesting if not somewhat bittersweet.  This will probably be the season where he wants to ski with his friends more than his ski instructor mommy, and I can see a time in the near future where he waits for me at the bottom (if I'm lucky).

So who has the bigger lessons ahead?  I think it's becoming clear, rapidly, that I'm the one who needs to stay after school...and to start ski conditioning.  And if you were one of those hikers not with our group that smiled at us, big thanks from the young mountain goats (the kids) and us old goats.