Last summer, my kids -- Peter, 11; Henrik, 9; and Luisa, 6 -- announced they wanted to travel to a different country. My husband, Walter, and I did, too. But unlike our children, our enthusiasm was dampened by the fact that we couldn't swing five international plane tickets.
Our solution was to pull out our passports and hit the road -- to Canada. From our home in Minneapolis, we took a 10-day car trip to Toronto and Niagara Falls by way of a few spots on or near the Great Lakes. When done right, we discovered, a family road trip doesn't have to be a literal hell on wheels. In fact, sharing a minivan day in and day out with your kids can be a meaningful way to take in places you've long wanted to visit, especially those that don't necessarily warrant a trip by themselves.
When I say "done right," it goes without saying that we've done it wrong. Five summers ago, when the children were 7, 5 and 2, we decided at the last minute to visit my dad in Park City, Utah. We rocketed through Iowa and Nebraska, the kids strapped into their boosters and car seats, sobbing over who got to hold the lone malfunctioning DVD player. By the time we pulled into our garage two weeks later, having absorbed the glory of not only Utah's high desert but also Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone and the Black Hills, at least one child was completely naked. I was so spent from yelling that I didn't care.
This time, we vowed, would be different. Instead of just jumping in the car, we came up with several strategies to make the journey more enjoyable for everyone.
Give the kids a say
Our first improvement was to realize that simply announcing "we're heading east!" doesn't work for our kids. We wanted them to be able to visualize where we were going, so we sat down together as a family and plotted our course using Google Maps. We'd get to Toronto by looping south around Lake Michigan, crossing the border into Ontario at Port Huron, Mich. On the way home, we'd follow the southern shore of Lake Erie on our way to stay three nights with friends in Chicago. We agreed that the kids could use the maps feature on my phone to check our progress and that each family member would choose at least one attraction they'd like to visit.
My commitment to that concept was almost immediately tested when, after enjoying 3-inch-high sandwiches at the funky Acoustic Cafe and a tour of the exquisite Victorian-era Mabel Tainter Memorial Theater, both in Menomonie, Wis., Henrik announced he wanted to stop in Wisconsin Dells to ride the Army Ducks.
While Walter takes the kids to the Dells every year to cement his status as Fun Dad, I have refused to visit the waterpark capital of the world since I hurt my neck inside a gigantic water funnel five years ago. I could tell by the way the kids were putting on the hard sell -- "We've never gone on them!" "The river is supposed to be awesome!" -- that they thought their odds for persuading me were slim. But reflexively saying no, a specialty of mine, would defeat our intention to empower the kids to help plan the trip.