Sons first trip to BPW one June. Nice and sunny, uplift booked out but no problem, we spend an hour pootling up to the top with snack stops and a few pushes.
Just as we arrive at the top the mother of all storms blows in out of nowhere. Proper sleet, really windy and very very cold. The trails turn to little rivers and he was really struggling to hold the brakes. He got properly blue lips cold and was shivering uncontrollably.
To be fair, it only took an hour to get back down and while it would have been quicker and safer to walk he refused to even discuss it and instead sucked on bits of snickers to “keep my teeth warm dad”.
The real ‘bad dad’ bit? He was 4 and on a Cnoc 16.
I feel/felt stupid for putting him in that position… Something I wouldn’t have done with anyone elses kid. Still not quite sure why I decided that another trip to the FoD wasn’t a better idea.
Luckily he wasn’t bothered at all and loves riding. We have returned to BPW.
There’s a fine line sometimes between ‘adventure dad’ and ‘idiot dad’. It seems on my bad days i walk on that line :)