The Green Helmet

We all made it to Lagos de Tres, and I got to enjoy
a moment without my helmet before the hike down.

Carmela and Sofia admit that my green helmet distresses them.  Isn't it my job as a parent to embarrass my kids whenever possible?  I remember being 8 years old and mortified by my mom's singing as she belted out the hymns in church.  Thank you Jesus for giving me this opportunity to horrify my kids!  Whoot! 

It is a novelty to wear a crash helmet in Argentina when the majority of bike riders, motorcyclists, and climbers keep their heads uncovered and unprotected.  On our treks in the Andes, I was the only person sporting head armor.  I get why people looked at my green beret first before bringing their eyes down to meet mine with a questioning look.  If I wasn't missing part of my skull, I wouldn't be wearing a helmet either, but I am sure glad I had mine.  

The trail one the left side of the hill in front was the last kilometer.
A lesson in switchbacks would be greatly appreciated!

It provided reassurance, especially during our hike to Fitz Roy, the "Half Dome" of Argentina.  The trail is arduous and crowded.  

The first 7 kilometers include 1200 feet of elevation gain, hardly preparing one to encounter the final vertical kilometer with another 1200 feet of elevation.  That last 100 meters felt like it was straight up.  There were places we had to use our hands and scale the rocks.  With one arm assisting Caleb, and the other flailing by my side, wearing the helmet brought piece of mind as we scrambled along.

 The view was spectacular, and I am proud of the kids for pushing on and getting it done. Carmela, our trekking champion arrived 20 minutes before the rest of us and kindly declared, "Yes Mom; your helmet is embarrassing, but I am glad you are wearing it."  Me too Carmela!  

Why are turnstiles so much fun?