02 july 2005
Road Trip
By Nanci Olesen
A couple of years ago, I told another mom that I was about to drive from Minneapolis to Philadelphia with my
three kids (ages 4, 5, and 9) and another friend's kid (age 10). I would be the only adult. The woman looked at me
and said, "Oh my God! Be sure to rent one of those TVs with a VCR—it was the only way my husband and I
could even think of driving cross country with our kids."
“Oh, we'll be alright," I said. "We don't need a TV."
What this woman didn’t know is that the trip to Philadelphia would be my sixth cross-country drive with children,
and my second long trip as the only adult. I have driven, with my husband and whatever kids we had at the time, to
the West Coast and back three times and to the East Coast and back three times, and I've done at least six other trips
to places like Michigan, South Dakota, and Montana. Last winter my friend Barb and I drove with my middle daughter
(age 6) 2,200 miles to Yellowknife, in the Northwest Territories of Canada.
I like driving with kids across the country. One of the greatest things about a cross-country trip is how long it
takes. I'm serious. Yes, my children squabble in the car. When they were smaller they cried, even wailed, for miles
at times. And it's true that we've been unable to find a campground to stay in at 9 p.m., when the baby was poopy
and we’d been in the car for 11 hours straight. Just as people say you don't remember labor, when every moment
of your 25-hour labor is emblazened into your head and body, I remember all the excruciating moments of travel. I
remember when the car stunk like old bananas and we took the wrong turn and my legs felt numb from being cramped in
the back seat and I was tired of singing "Little Rabbit in the Woods" with all the actions.
Yet I would get in the car again in a second with all of my kids. Because, out on the road, you create your family
again. If your children fall asleep, which they most certainly will at some point in a 29-hour drive, there is time
for two adults to talk. If it’s your partner you are driving with, you might begin with a conversation about
everyday things like bills and house payments. But after a while, if you’re both still awake, the road does
a number on you and you find yourself confessing what you really think about life after death or that you just found
out that your great-great-grandfather was gay. These topics, along with the night air and the unfamiliar road and
the snores and sniffles from the backseat, can brew into a welling up of tears or the kind of laughter that you might
not have had for a while, where one of you says something that seems so ridiculous that you lean forward, gasping,
almost peeing in your pants. A road trip can really take the edge off an impending midlife crisis.
But there are also hours and hours when the kids are awake and the adults are simply wranglers: One is driving (that's
the easy part) and the other is doing the many things that need to be done to keep it all going, like passing out
apple slices or starting a game of "I spy with my little eye."
Our kids each bring one daypack full of pleasures for the road. The things they love most are paper, pencils, and
books. We have some car bingo, some magnetic baseball games, and a few other made-for-the-car activities, but it is
the paper and pencils that always rule. When you bring too many things, they just get in the way. The car gets messy,
you can't find anything, and you are hampered by your possessions. It’s important to have time to stare out
the window. Maybe a conversation will start between two kids, or some kind of game of pretend. If there are too many
distractions, too many items in the car, the kids won't really get to see just how big Nebraska is. Didn't you like
the chance to stare out the window when you were eight, thinking about whatever came into your head?
Late on the night before a road trip, I am usually at the grocery store, buying bags of those tiny carrots that
are already washed and peeled, the carrots that liberated us all. I also buy chips and crackers, but I'm big on carrots
and apples and any other fruit that's in season and can travel well. Those individual yogurts are handy. A jar of
peanuts. Peanut butter and jelly. And some exotic chocolate (only for the adults). A good thermos if you're a coffee
drinker. And a big jug of water. (Juice is sticky. Juice spills. Juice makes people nervous and squiggly.)
I like to pack a cloth tablecloth and cloth napkins, real (plastic) plates and real silverware and real cups. You
can't convince me to stop washing my dishes right at the picnic table, using a little plastic tub that I pack with
a sponge and some dish soap. (I have been called an eco-prude.)
What we really love to do is leaving the interstate and driving into towns, following the signs to the school or
the city park. There are so many wonderful cafes still thriving in towns across America. I swear the best places in
the world are out there, in every little town along the way, with those old-fashioned doughnuts, and eggs and hash-browns
for $2.50. True, the coffee is usually less than memorable, but the formica and the metal napkin holder and the waitresses
who learn the names of your kids—those are the important things.
The love affair that I have with road trips with my kids is the way we spend time together. The way we switch seats.
The way we fall asleep on each other and drool on each other's sweaters. The way we open the window and stick a towel
in and roll it up quick so that we have shade from that powerful and unnerving Nevada sunlight. The cassettes we listen
to that become the theme of the trip.
My husband and I like to drive through the night and then find a way to take naps by lakes or rivers the next afternoon.
(In case my mother is reading this, we do exercise caution, and we make solemn vows never to drive if we’re
too sleepy.) We look for local campgrounds if we're camping, so that we can walk around the town at night. Or we look
for the mom-and-pop motels, the ones with painted metal chairs in front of each door. There are still a lot of those
and, if they're reasonably clean, they're usually the best thing in the world. If they have a clean pool, yippee!
Life is still very sweet out on the road in America. There is a great deal to explore. Sure, there are more strip
malls and more signs of rapid change. But in one town in Nevada we followed the signs to a small county museum that
told us the story of the families who had walked alongside their covered wagons from Illinois to California in the
1860s. We spent an hour there, talking with the elderly volunteer and gathering Xeroxed information for our children's
classrooms.
My favorite poem is Gary Snyder’s “For the Children,” and its last three lines are a good mantra
for any road trip: "Stay together. Learn the flowers. Go light." So head out to see what's out there and
find those great places to stop…and dare to use a different route than the interstate.
TIPS FOR ROAD TRAVEL
- Get a cooler that plugs into the cigarette lighter of the car. You don't have to deal with ice anymore!
They have an adaptor to plug into the socket at a motel or at your cousin's house.
- I’m a coffee snob, so I try to find the best coffee house around and fill up my whole thermos. And
I have to have half and half in our cooler or I can't go anywhere. To find quality coffee, go to the more trendy parts
of town or explore around college campuses.
- I don't own a cell phone, but I borrowed one for the trip I took alone to Philadelphia; it was a great reassurance.
- Last year, for a trip from the West Coast with my mom and my kids, we made advance reservations at campgrounds
and motels, because it made her feel better. But I still think that half the fun is just heading out to find out what
you'll find.
- Keep a stack of Post-it notes in the glove box. Kids enjoy drawing on them and using their window for their
own gallery of drawings.
- Be sane about the number of hours you spend in the car at any one stretch. Finding playgrounds, pools, and
parks should be part of your routine. Remember, getting there is at least half the fun.
- Take time beforehand to learn about where you are going. Check books out of your home library; you could
read aloud a chapter book that pertains to the region you are driving through. Stock up on free brochures at rest
areas and chambers of commerce.
- Plan stops at friends' houses across the country. What a thrill it was to pull up into the driveway of my
friend Lizanne's house outside of Chicago for an overnight stay with her and her twin girls!
- We keep a little notebook in the glovebox to record the gas mileage, the name of a favorite restaurant or
a campground we wished we could have stayed in. The notebook becomes a kind of journal and a handy reference for next time.
—Nanci Olesen
producer and host, MOMbo: 1990-2007 |
