Hill Cart

Now that James is comfortable using power tools, he can build pretty much anything he can think of. Last Fall/Spring, it was an enormous garden box and a variety of weapons. 

James' garden box this morning totally loaded with potato plants, sunflowers, and a cedar tree. Yesterday, he also planted walking onions in there somewhere.

James' wall display of all the sharp and pointy things he created from whatever materials I would let him use.

This summer, it's a hill cart.

No steering.

No brakes.

Just you, a hill, and gravity.

He used a 55 gallon drum, four dolly wheels, an assortment of plywood, PVC, metal tubing, couch cushions, ratty towels, a pool noodle, and about a million screws. I think a few of those screws ended up in our van tires, but the mechanics didn't save them long enough for me to do the forensics.

This cart has been a lot of work. James had to figure things out from scratch at every step. He had in mind what he wanted to, assessed the materials on-hand, figured out which tools he needed to accomplish the task, and did it. Minimal input from any of us. I can't tell you how much thought and sweat labor went into each component. Seriously, folks, I'm crazy proud of this kid.

We took it to Colbert Park this week, to the tallest, longest hill for miles around. It's a man-made hill designed for sledding and it took more than one of us to get the cart to the top.

Safety first! Here's James at the top, about to take his first ride.

The first run was an incredible success. It was a smooth and terrifying ride. The cart veered strongly to the left, which, on a steep hill, would normally mean a rollover, but James had designed the cart with a wide wheel base for just such occasions (we had learned a few things from the St. Anthony sand dunes). He was thrilled! We all were. Matthew took a ride, too, screaming and laughing all the way. Then James decided to try the "bumpy" side of the hill. It's built a little like amphitheater seating with regular stair-step formations. He went really fast and ended up veering so far left that he turned onto the steepest, steepest, crazy steepest part of the hill, which only made him go faster and farther. Scary AND hilarious.

I said to James, "This would make a great picture way up here with the land, sky, and clouds! I want you in it." *click* Um...thanks. 

Both boys were exhausted after two runs each (it's a really steep hill, and the cart isn't light). We loaded up the cart and drove home theorizing how to address the veering problem. James got a few ideas. He spent hours in the garage the next day tweaking things. Every test run down the driveway proved that he hadn't solved the problem yet. He got pretty frustrated. Grouchy. Angry. Then he'd get another idea and try again.

Just the other night, after several sweaty hours in the garage working with power tools, when he felt he had FINALLY got it all figured out, he asked me to watch the test run. Turns out, he still hadn't fixed the problem. It was just as bad as it ever was. Like he had done NOTHING. He was incredibly disappointed. As I pushed the cart back into the garage, he saw something he hadn't seen before. Suddenly, he knew what to do next! We chatted about it and decided this was the next thing to try. We didn't talk specifics, though, about how to accomplish that change. When he asked where the level was, I furrowed my brow. I wouldn't use a level. I would use a square (a large, L-shaped ruler). I pulled out the square and showed him the geometry and marked the cart with a Sharpie showing him how to align things just so. I stood up and looked at him with an excited smile and asked, "Does that make sense? See how to do it?" With the level still in his hands, and a look of mischief, he said, "Mom, let me do this my way." 

"But the level won't work because..."

He playfully whacked me with the level and said, "Let me do it my way." Then he shooed me out of the garage with the level saying, "And if it fails, I'll be sad for 20 minutes, and then I'll figure out another way to fix it!"

Ten minutes later, he stomped into the house with a sour expression on his face and wouldn't tell me why. He wasn't out there long enough to make the fix he was planning. I'm guessing something else went wrong in the process. Such is life on this planet!

This kid. Sheesh. Just the other day, as we drove past Art Mart, James said that all the kids in his class loved that store. It's kind of a weird, hoity-toity international grocery store and pricey art/clothing/toy store. I asked him why they liked it. He said with a shrug, "Because the other kids like it." I burst out laughing, "Holy moly, that is the essence of Junior High! I can't believe you saw that." Give this kid a gold star. 

Well, the cart is still a work in progress. I asked James if maybe he would be okay with it just the way it is. It's a great ride! He said no. It would bother him too much. In the meantime, he'll keep at it and we'll keep heading to the hardware store (our favorite outing together!). We took Nova to the hardware store with us last time. She wore her "therapy dog in training" vest. She did a great job!! 

I'll have to tell you later about her surgery, but I'll leave you with this photo of her and James. She's been on sedatives post-op to keep her from accidentally tearing out her stitches. The kids have looooooved this extra sleepy, extra tolerant version of Nova: