I’m blogging from Colorado today. With John Denver’s sunshine literally on my shoulder and a few cloudless days of skiingbehind me. I would take a moment to lament the fact that my legs ache, my back hurts, and my lips are chapped, but those of you who ski will not have sympathy for me. Three days of sunshine in the mountains with good friends are worth the muscle aches.

Spending time in Colorado is always a boon to my soul. Majestic landscapes can do this to us, whether the shoreline of Maine or the grandeur of Lake Tahoe.

Pulled out of my midwestern slumber and chair lifted up to 11,000+ feet made my heart sail. One afternoon I took some solo time and made my way across the 5000 skiable acres of Vail. Heading to a place they call the “Blue Sky Basin” I took my time hopping on and off lifts to plop myself atop a snow covered peak (ironically, the site of a formerly famous act of eco-terrorism).

As I slid off the lift I was reminded anew of the vast wilderness space that is so accessible to many of us today. I shuffled my way over to the edge of the summit and took in the views. A majestic panorama, miles of open space. Jagged peaks, ridges that jut up into the sky, avalanche gulches where only thoughtless trees dare to grow. All this with perfect blue skies as a canopy.

I leaned on my ski poles and took a deep breath. It was quiet up there too. Sure, there were other skiers sitting at picnic tables, adjusting gear, crunching on snacks. But the overarching silence of the place was awesome. The backdrop was not the hum of a freeway or the clanging of construction equipment, but a sort of quiet that almost presses down on you. You cannot help but hear it, even with closer, smaller sounds nearby.

Anyway, it was pure bliss. And as I skied away I felt a little boost to my spirit.

As I made my way down the mountain and back to rendezvous with my friend, the moment had passed. We grabbed some coffee and within a few moments had tossed our gear into her truck and began the journey back to Denver with the other thousands of Saturday skiers bound for home on I-70. Which, can probably boast the country’s highest, weekly traffic jam.

Tourists, natives, locals, vacationers etc., all plodding along through Summit County and beyond. All who crept up to the mountains to sneak a view of the landscape or to hear the silence. All who took a gasp of clean air and grabbed a glimpse of blue skies, only to find themselves tailgating an 18-wheeler a few hours later.

As we snaked along I-70 I noticed again the landscape that is covered in increasingly brown and dead trees. Millions upon millions of dead lodge pole pine trees cover the hillsides of Summit County and other areas throughout the state. A voracious pest called the Mountain Pine Beetle is eating its way through the Rocky Mountains. From Montana to Wyoming, from Colorado all the way up through British Columbia, this pesky little bug is killing the forests.

After millions of dollars in research and seemingly endless hours of time, the USFS has largely determined that there is not much they can do to prevent the spread of the outbreak. And while it is a naturally occurring event that should simply clean out the forests and make room for new trees, this outbreak is particularly nasty for many reasons.

First, the average winter temperatures out West have increased and where the beetle once would eventually die with a long enough cold snap, a warm up of just two degrees or so has helped the beetle carry on. Second, our decisions to manage forest fires (often for very good reasons) has left us with overgrown forests that should have burned naturally long ago. This means that there are too many trees of the same age and they are so dense that the spread of the beetle is easy.

I could go on for days about the fight against this pest, that is expected to take out all of Colorado’s lodge pole pines in the next 5 years. But, what I realized as I headed down I-70 was that I was caught in between two worlds and I could not find a way out of either one.

You see, if indeed climate change is to blame for the beetle, then my chugging along, spewing CO2 from the car after a day of skiing is partly to blame. My desire to spend time in nature is harming it as well. But on the flip side, I do believe that we are designed to enjoy and marvel in open spaces and wild places. Not submit them to our insatiable appetite or destroy them, but to hike them or enjoy their silence is not a bad thing.

You see the dilemma then? Killing the very forest I went to enjoy definitely defeats the purpose. Is it naive and idyllic to want blue skies on a day of skiing and all the trees to be intact on the way home? Probably. But what is the alternative? Not to go at all? Some extremists would say yes here. I respect that. But will also confess I am selfish enough to want to play. So what do we do? Any thoughts?

It is officially winter in Chicago. Even though the calendar won’t reflect this reality until two more weeks, there is snow and wind, ice and sleet, and single digit temperatures. The frozen tundra that is my home 4 months each year has arrived.

Last week I hauled my little bundle of people to the grocery store. This is normally a formidable feat as dragging three children anywhere can almost bring me to tears. But since the turn toward winter, simple tasks like this now require boots, hats, gloves, socks, etc. It now takes an additional fifteen minutes to get anywhere.

Add to that a generous allowance of time for winter wonder, for kicking snow drifts, picking up ice-chunks, and for drawing smiley faces with your finger on the side of our salt and dirt covered car, and you have yourself a day long outing just to get milk.

Earlier this week the weather hit with a bit more fury that we’ve had this year. It had snowed about an inch over night. The actual air temperature outside was 7 degrees. The weather person on television blabbered on about wind gusts that were upwards of 30-50 miles per hour. Which, brought us to a nice wind chill of twenty degrees below zero.

I eyed this little situation with warm coffee in hand as I debated whether or not to make good on my vow to always walk to school. I made more than a big deal about this decision in another post titled “Drop Off and Run.” http://traceybianchi.com/drop-off-and-run/

As I looked out my window at naked tree branches and ice chunks, watching the tire treads of all the other commuters slice up the snow in the street, I wondered how bad it could really be to walk. I was born and raised in the midwest after all. We may not have mountains or much in the way of beaches, but we are hearty, stubborn folk. So I decided we would walk.

My six year old was elated. His eyes actually welled up with tears when I stated out loud my original thought, that we would drive. When I sang a different tune and declared a walking day, he was giddy. Then I looked up the street one more time. The sidewalks were covered in snow and ice. Few of my neighbors (ourselves included) had been out to shovel their walks yet. And while the storm accumulation was just one inch, much of it ended up in drifts that covered the sidewalks. And all of it landed on top of a sheet of ice, as it had rained and then dipped into snow.

Remember that slow moving gaggle of kids? We have to take a stroller to school or it would be May before we made a round trip. It’s one mile round trip so a stroller is a necessary part of our morning commute. I suddenly realized there was not way we could get our wheels up the street that morning. And the little legs of a just-turned two year old in boots, through the snow, will not make it to school on time. The stroller would not make the trip. We were driving. Especially since all this deliberating had already inched into the time it would take to get dressed up into our gear.

And I will confess, that I was phenomenally relieved by this decision. I am ashamed to say it. I was cold. It was cold outside. Driving to school was like a little dream that day. My son was truly heart broken over the decision and begged me to change my mind. But I was determined to get there on time and warm.

So I share this with you not because it is a particularly interesting vignette, but to assuage any eco-guilt that you may carry around. I have friends who confess their eco-crimes to me all the time. Stressing about forgetting reusable bags in the car, meeting me at the door during birthday parties to warn me that “there are paper plates here.” And most of my friends, while confessing on the one hand, are doing the best that they can in other places. They often state that greener living is also loaded with guilt.

Rest assured, a more sustainable life is not a contest. I am always in awe of others who live, what I suspect, are super-sustainable lives. People I read about who are like ecological super heroes to me. The Barbara Kingsolvers or Doug Fines of the world who ditch cars and homes and set up shop without wheels or the trappings of urban life.

But I suspect they cheat too. Sure, if you are Doug Fine you do not have a car and cannot drive to school. But I am fairly certain they have moments in their days that are less than sustainable. And this gives me hope. Not because it also gives me freedom to cheat, but because if a greener life becomes less about sustainable perfection and more about every day people like you and I doing what we can, then the whole world wins.

Because, there are a lot more moms who drive to school when the windchill is negative 20 than there are moms who ditch their cars altogether. So if we can remove the guilt and help people understand that doing everything green is not the point, doing whatever we can is what works, then the little efforts of billions of people can impact the world in a greater way than the most valiant and noble efforts of a few. And sure, along the way, if you feel led to ditch your automobile, more power to you! I mean that, absolutely do it!

But for most of us, we need to rest in the opportunity to simply what we can, whenever we can. And lost the guilt that comes from believing that we can somehow do it all. For that guilt may stop you from every trying anything. And if that happens, no one will ever walk to school again.

The walk to and from school each day gives me such an amazing window into the world of my children. My six year old wants so badly to walk. He never complains about it. Never remarks that the half-mile trip (one way) is too long or too boring. He absolutely loves to walk to school.

On the few mornings that we need to drive (the days when I work and have to drop him off to make a meeting), he lets out a long sigh and moans.

Yesterday, we left the house with a little spring in our step, lots of pretty leaves all over the place and it was a bit balmy outside. Felt wonderful. I pushed a stroller with my two youngest while my six year old walked next to me and said this “Hey mom, I love it when we walk to school.”

“Why honey?” I asked.

“Because I get to talk to you.”

Okay, seriously people, does it get better than that? I could not make this stuff up.

It’s like in that one statement all the horrible parenting moments of the last week were erased. Like the giant pink rectangle eraser they use in school. My walking to school and simply talking with my child wiped out an entire week of my short temper and “I need coffee before I can be nice to you” moments. Just like all the eraser dust on the paper, we walked to school and it all just sort of blew away.

So we walked. We talked about Star Wars and how many pockets he has on his backpack. We talked about why leaves fall off trees and why some people rake them and others do not. And, again, I kid you not, he asked me what people do with the leaves and I got to explain to him what composting was. seriously!

And know that not every moment is like this. Like right now, while I am blogging and it is pouring outside, he is watching the Deadliest Catch and is mesmerized by crab fishing on the Bering Sea. So yeah, not the best afternoon.

On the way home from dropping off my oldest, I was in a rush. Trying to get home so that I can get things done. We passed another mom cramming kids into a mini-van as quickly as possible, backpacks flying around, doors sliding shut.

We passed another woman trying to scoop up leaves off her driveway as quickly as she could. She looked like she was trying to make a quick dent in the raking before work.

Another woman came bolting out of her house, grabbed her Chicago Tribune off her sidewalk, and raced back inside as fast as she could.

I was panting and sweating from walking home so fast.

My middle son, my three year old then asked me this, “Mommy, why are all the ladies in such a hurry?”

Ahhh, very insightful, I thought.

“Why are all us ladies in a hurry?”

Now I am a feminist sort of gal and I have male friends who stay home with kids and mom friends who work. And this is not a discourse on gender roles. But at that moment, that walk home, everyone scurrying about was female.

And I was no different.

And I was suddenly aware that on the one hand, I was “Mom of the Year” as I had just walked to school and offered a discourse on composting (that was actually well received). And then in a matter of five minutes I was sprinting home with the stroller, launching my kids over cracks in the sidewalk. Sailing past other women fretting over the school drop off or the leaves.

“Why are all the ladies in such a hurry?”

I was in the driveway cramming them into the car for an errand when it hit me that I had suddenly stopped being that walking mom, that talking mom. I was now psycho, screaming mom. Hollering at them because they climbed into the car and then over the seat and were walking all over the front seats of the car with wet shoes.

I was upset because we’d lost a sippy cup somewhere along the way.

I was short-tempered because we had places to go, errands to run, and had less than three hours to do them before I needed to be the walking mom again and pick my oldest up from school.

I was no longer the walk to school and change the world mom. I was crazy, neurotic, drive all over the place mom.

And I chose to drive those errands that day. I had legitimate reasons. And this is not a blog post on why you should walk everywhere (although that does help).

But it is simply an observation of how crazy life got the moment I added my car into the picture. When my destination was a leisurely walk to school we were calm and collected. When my goal was to get home as fast as I could to jump in my car and drive all over town, it was chaos.

And if I walked some of those errands, I could not have accomplished as many tasks, but we could have continued to walk and talk. And if I can manage to walk and talk, then life is not such a hurry. And conversations that change little lives can happen.

I confess. We drove to school today. We live 5 blocks from school and we drove.

It was our third official day of Kindergarten. It was raining. They air was chewy and gross and when I looked out the door at 7:55 it was drizzling with a bit more spite than I had expected. I have to pull the trigger on walking to school by 7:55. There are shoes to find and bags to grab, strollers to snatch and kids to herd. If, by 7:55, that train is not rolling, we are driving.

I looked outside and sighed. Everyone was tired. They had milk mustaches and messy hair. I had messy hair too. It was raining. there was not a matching set of shoes in sight. I sighed. “Let’s drive today okay?”

Which, is no excuse at all for a green mama. Rain or not, forget those carbon emissions! And my son let me know it too. “Mommy, why aren’t we walking to school?” “What’s wrong?” he said. “Oh, I sighed, it’s raining.” “Big whup” I could almost hear him groan.

But if saving a bit on my CO2 output was not reason enough to walk those five blocks, HOLY COW, dropping your child off at school on a rainy day is reason enough. SUV’s everywhere, umbrellas everywhere, moms running across the field to hand off forgotten backpacks while they leave their doors wide open. 

Nice people willing to let you in and out of the drop off lane. Not so nice people bound and determined to pin you into that lane until your Kindergardener graduates from High School. Seriously. people are mean. Aren’t we all on the same team? Trying to get people our of the car and off to learn?

So for those of you who read along with me only because you like the mom stuff. For those of you who bristle at the climate change facts and shrug them off as inconclusive. Let me be clear.

Forget CO2, walk to school so that you can save your very soul!!!

There is nothing like the tension that claws up your back at the drop off. You whip around the corner and hear the bell. you look ahead and all you see are tail lights and stopped cars. The bell rings again. Kids are running into the building. Yours are still in the car asking when you are going to let them out. 

Ahead you see fifth graders just jumping out and running. As if jumping from the Titanic or something like that. Doors fly open, kids dive out. Moms wave and they are off. But me, I have a newbie with a fresh backpack and his third day of school ever. He has a special door to go into and he won’t be jumping from my ship anytime soon! So I wait in line.

We are late. My heart starts beating. I’ve got two other kids in the car. I see the special Kindergarden door open. The school staff waiting with umbrellas to bring these little kids in. I stop, whip open the door. He jumps out. I run him across the lawn and yell “go, go, go.” I am parked where I am not supposed to be. I have two kids in the car. I am only like 10 feet from the car but it feels like I ran to Iowa and left them all there.

Slow motion, running to Iowa.

I close his umbrella and manage to poke him in the eye. “Go, go, go” I yell. 

I race back to the car. Less than one minute has passed but I feel like I’ve been gone for days.

My heart is racing, my adrenaline is going, we’re now all jacked up with nowhere to go. It is 8:25 in the morning. I am in line of traffic. I broke the rules. all of them. I will play the rookie card.

Needless to say we walked for the pick up. and will walk again tomorrow rain or shine!

So forget the CO2, save your heart and your sanity. WALK TO SCHOOL!

So Monday I was away from home for the evening and had to grab dinner on the run. I started to drive through the aimless suburbs that surrounded me, foraging for food. Love the Trio Salad at Corner Bakery and just happened to see one as the hunger pangs kicked in. Three cheers for Cous Cous, Asparagus, Chicken and of course the mixed greens. Once I saw their little striped awning I yanked my steering wheel and pulled across three lanes of traffic to make the proper turn. It was either that dramatic driving maneuver or spend the next four months circling the massive strip malls in the area that all seem to forbid the left turn that I would need to take.

As a side note, that drives me INSANE, the no turning and keep on driving thing. Why spread ourselves across two driving lanes and two turn lanes in both directions. And all the little arrows telling me I cannot turn anywhere. Makes me want to jump curbs and drive like the Mini-Cooper scene the Italian Job.

I pulled in. Turned off my car and got ready to open my door when another car raced into the vacant spot next to me. Almost took my little door off. The driver jumped out, yammering away on his cell phone, slammed his door and left his car running (with no one else in it) as he headed into the Corner Bakery. I stood there, thankful I still had a door, and seething at the fact that he was idling his engine. It was not cold out (meaning it was 30 degrees in February, a virtual heat wave in Chicago). There was no reason for this. 

Of course I did not have the guts to tell him how ridiculous he was. He stood in line chatting on his phone, wearing an enormously puffy North Face expedition weight down jacket. Totally unnecessary in the Chicago suburbs (especially when he would be getting back into a warm car). Everything about him screamed obnoxious. 

Of course I am being super wrong and judgmental here, but tell me you have not had those moments. The ones where you look a person up and down and snap to a sudden judgment, it’s not right but some people are begging us for these looks. It’s like they woke up in the morning and said “hey, how can I get you to notice me.” This guy was big and loud and obnoxious and he liked it that way.

It took forever for the gal at the counter to ring him up and another 5-10 minutes for his carry-out food to arrive. It was a full 20 minutes before he left. I wanted to walk up to him and tell him that he owed my kids 20 minutes of fresh air. Wanted to tell him that his coat belonged in the Himalayas on some deserving sherpa, not on his back. Wanted to tell him to pay attention to the world around him. 

But I am mostly a wuss in moments like these and truth be told, he was sort of scary, so I just glared at him and prayed that he would stop idling his car next time. 

So my thoughts on that day end up here. One, what does it take for me to say the things that need to be said. What if that guy was not scary at all and what if my little tap on his shoulder followed by a green tip was actually well received? Maybe I owe my kids 20 minutes of fresh air here too. Two, let’s not idle our cars. Sure, they burn less gas idling than they do racing 65 (or 75 or 85) down the interstate, but idling them releases unnecessary CO2 into the air. 

So let’s turn them off. Off in the pick up lanes at our schools, off as we wait for our kids to come out of the library or the dance lessons, off as we dash into the post office for just a quick minute. And in case you are wondering “well, if I am idling for just a short moment, won’t it waste more gas to just turn it on and off so quickly?” I’ve read and talked to a few car experts on this issue and rumor has it that with the technology in cars today, unless you are idling for less than 30 seconds, you should shut it off.

So let’s shut off the cars. Wanna be crazy green? Consider a campaign to make a “no idling” policy in front of your child’s school. What an odd thing to pick them up from a school, the place we hope fosters a better future for them, while we burn through their oxygen. Doesn’t make sense. Gentlemen, stop your engines.