Somehow, we started off ominously when someone forgot his boots. No problem, I have lots of boots. Too bad I have "hobbit feet" (according to Amy) and poor Eric rivals Shaq. Still, we found him some boots and made it to the trailhead with only a tiny bit of off-road snow driving.

There was about six inches of snow, which was the perfect amount that allowed the girls to bombard me with snowballs.

Wait... Where was Henry? This sounds like exactly the type of mischief he's into it. Well, he and Eric were way up the trail. I was only able to catch up when I shouted ahead that I would be opening M&Ms.

Higher, the snow was deeper. Well, if you can call rock hard, super slippery, frozen water "snow." Most people call it, "ice," or "iiiieeaaaagggghhh!" (The latter name is onomatopoeic, of course.) With only a few falls we made it through to more usual snow with better traction.

Still higher we came into an open area where we recognized that between the wind and falling snow we were risking death. Not the kids' death, but our own. At our wives' hands.

So... pictures. More snowballs. And then it was a race to get off the mountain.

When we made it home there was hot chocolate for all and whatever bad feelings we had engendered up high were left there. Good thing, too. I'm hoping for a bunch more crazy trips with the kids this winter.

Total distance was about 2.8 miles and about 1,000 feet of gain.