"It's a Sweater!" — The Wee Wanderer

In 1986, when I was nine, my mom took me and my brother to see the movie The Three Amigos. I think you had to be between the ages of 7 and 9 to appreciate this gem of a film to the extent that my brother and I did / do. Almost everyone else thought it was so-so. But all of you 44-to-46-year-olds out there know what I’m talking about. “In-famous?” “I think it’s a male plane.” “You killed the invisible swordsman!” “Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?” And my personal favorite line: “It’s a sweater!” If you try hard enough, you can make any piece of literature relevant to your current situation. There are zero connections between parenting and The Three Amigos, but for some reason, I keep thinking about this ridiculous film lately, and how it pertains to my life as the parent of a 50-pounder. Read on if you somehow have any remaining interest. (I’m lookin’ at you, Uncle Josh!)

For those of you who haven’t seen it (and are somehow still invested in this post), the plot revolves around three aging actors -- played by Steve Martin, Chevy Chase, and Martin Short – who travel from Hollywood to Mexico, where they think they will be starring as the heroes of a new cowboy film. They envision the film as a blockbuster, and take it for granted that participating in it will launch them to stardom and earn them wealth enough to last a lifetime. Little do they know, there is no movie, no fame, no money. What they think is a harmless movie set is an actual town that genuinely needs their help, as it has been besieged by a real-life bandit named “El Guapo.”

The parallels to our situation as parents should be totally obvious, no? Travis & I – like the oblivious Amigos – were caught completely off guard by this whole parenting thing. Like the Amigos, I saw our future as parents as nothing but rosy and rewarding. For instance, previous to having a baby, I only ever imagined having a baby baby. Like, a very small one. Someone portable and without intelligible opinions. I hadn’t thought about having an irritable roommate for 18 years. And now, 6 years and 50 pounds later, we find ourselves cohabitating with and constantly besieged by our own little outlaw, who rarely wants to do the things we want to do. And now that he’s officially too heavy to haul, we’re basically trapped.

When Travis informed me he had put our running stroller on Craigslist, the reality of our parenting situation became as real as El Guapo’s bullets, which finally convince the Amigos that what they think is a movie is actually the real thing. (The fine print said the stroller could carry 75 pounds, you guys! By my calculations, we had 4 more years of strolling to go! Turns out, Levi is a vertically-growing human, not a dumbbell, so my math didn’t work out the way I wanted it to.) I was as deflated as the Amigos when they realize that their situation is real. Their trip to Mexico – like our journey to this stage of parenthood – previously considered a singularly uplifting experience, could actually be the death of them.

Shit’s getting real, you guys. Levi – once a silent partner in the Menaul Family business – is now an active contributor who cannot be ignored. He’s got capital, and an excellent vocabulary with which to discuss matters. And he’s big. No longer can he be placed in a backpack, trailer, or stroller to accommodate our wants and needs. We pushed those days to the limit (See my post, “Hiking With A Threenager 101,” for details.) Now, if he can’t walk there, we can’t walk there.

Travis’s final haul: the 13-mile return trip on the Route of the Hiawatha (Summer 2022)

In the movie, there’s a moment when you think The Three Amigos are going to drop out. They tell El Guapo he’s won, and they’re going home. But then they decide to stick it out, and become real-life heroes in order to save the town. Similarly, Travis and I could throw in the towel on our outdoor pursuits. We could admit defeat, tell Levi we’re going home for the next 12 years, and confine our adventures to the living room rug and the World Wide Web. But, like the Amigos, we decide to go for what we want. This is what we do: every time we think we have things figured out, we have to come up with new tricks. This latest twist – Levi’s departure from the world of portability – is just another test of our outdoor ambitions.

In the movie, the Amigos capitalize on the villagers’ skills in order to beat El Guapo. Asked what they can do really well, the town’s matriarch replies, “We can sew!” and they devise a plan based on this seemingly random talent. Coming up with Operation Keep Going Outside, it was easy to name things Levi was already really good at, which we could enjoy as a family without the use of a mule, or other carrying device:

He can ski! I’m convinced that one of the main reasons Travis wanted a child was to create a life-long ski partner for himself. Me, I like a good Nordic trail, with zero adrenaline involved. I would have been content to live the rest of my life never having “hit the slopes.” But when Levi learned to ski last winter, I had to choose between binge-eating fig bars at the bonfire (fun in its own right), or getting some actual exercise. So, I rented downhill skis for the first time, and became the oldest frequenter of the Magic Carpet. While I will never be able to keep up with Levi (he’s a little ripper, just like his dad), I did manage to graduate from the bunny slope before my 46th birthday. I call that a win.

Mom & Dad riding solo, with Levi & friends in the background

He can bike! Having a built-in biker buddy is the other reason Travis became a father. Levi spent so much time in the bike trailer when he was a baby, just watching his dad ride, it’s no wonder he was tearing up the trails like a pro as soon as he started pedaling. Levi inherited Travis’s passion for mountain biking; personally, I like smooth, flat surfaces. But for my birthday (46 was a big year for me!), the boys got me a mountain bike, so I could come along. What some call exhilarating, I still call horrifying, but I’m getting the hang of it. I’m not too proud to admit that Travis used Levi’s tow strap to haul me up part of a mountain on Mother’s Day. It occurs to me that if we ever did get an actual mule to facilitate our family outings, I’d be the one riding it most of the time.

Levi on the TowWhee bungee tow strap (yes, Travis has towed me with this thing)

Spoiler Alert: In the movie, the Amigos win. They end up becoming real-life heroes, and saving the village from El Guapo. I have no idea if Travis and I will share their triumph. There is little heroism in the charade that we call Outdoor Pursuits With A Six Year Old. But I do know that every time we come back from a reasonably satisfying excursion (and I use the term “satisfying” loosely), I feel like I earned every last nacho on the platter.

Because, as readers of this blog know well, there is never not a bump on the road to outdoor pursuits with a child. There’s always something – persistent crying, insufficient snacks, general refusal to comply, etc. etc. – that makes your planned adventure seem impossible. There were times in the early days when I would promise myself a glass of champagne if I simply made it to the trailhead. The point of this blog is not to make things seem easy, but to prove that they are possible. If the Amigos can do it, we can do it.