I wouldn't be against trying some. I appreciate the voices of peace now entered. There really is no reason, as I said much earlier, for this Desert Loon to create too much of a stir in the minds of forumites happily treking along with high tech sticks.
When my son Carter was very young, perhaps one and half years old, I carried a red wagon across a 'raging' stream. I had my son strapped in a carseat on the ground, and he wasn't going anywhere. Still, as I crossed the stream again to fetch him, I felt a little guilty for risking him in the slight way. The stream was not too deep or fast for me to fish him out if for some reason he did fall out of the chair, and I would not let go of him. I knew some people would consider what I was doing crazy.
Anyway, on the other side I reassembled the child with seat onto the wagon, a Radio Flyer, strapping the two together. So I set out upon the wilderness trail in the Big Horns, the 41 Ruger Bisely strapped to my hip, and my friends Marine Panama campaign hat on my head, pulling the wagon behind me.
I made a couple miles, it was just an afternoon walk after all. There were roots and rocks and obtructions in the way, and the wagon made an awful racket. It was densely forested, in some places a tunnel. I had to lift boy and wagon many times. A pair of high tech hikers met us coming down the trail as we were coming up. I'll never forget their faces. Initially friendly upon seeing a person on the trail, they entered into a kind of shock as they took in the hogleg, babyboy, and red wagon.
How did this man and his child get here? What was going on?
Taking baby with me was the only way I could get out of the house and see the sights. If a couple treking poles enable a forumite to get going to the high country, and it works for him, it works for me.
munk
When my son Carter was very young, perhaps one and half years old, I carried a red wagon across a 'raging' stream. I had my son strapped in a carseat on the ground, and he wasn't going anywhere. Still, as I crossed the stream again to fetch him, I felt a little guilty for risking him in the slight way. The stream was not too deep or fast for me to fish him out if for some reason he did fall out of the chair, and I would not let go of him. I knew some people would consider what I was doing crazy.
Anyway, on the other side I reassembled the child with seat onto the wagon, a Radio Flyer, strapping the two together. So I set out upon the wilderness trail in the Big Horns, the 41 Ruger Bisely strapped to my hip, and my friends Marine Panama campaign hat on my head, pulling the wagon behind me.
I made a couple miles, it was just an afternoon walk after all. There were roots and rocks and obtructions in the way, and the wagon made an awful racket. It was densely forested, in some places a tunnel. I had to lift boy and wagon many times. A pair of high tech hikers met us coming down the trail as we were coming up. I'll never forget their faces. Initially friendly upon seeing a person on the trail, they entered into a kind of shock as they took in the hogleg, babyboy, and red wagon.
How did this man and his child get here? What was going on?
Taking baby with me was the only way I could get out of the house and see the sights. If a couple treking poles enable a forumite to get going to the high country, and it works for him, it works for me.
munk