Making road trip memories with the kids

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 22/08/2022 (1370 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

We took our kids on a road trip. We drove through three provinces (four, if you count Manitoba) and three time zones, bought snacks and wandered through what seemed to be about a thousand gas stations from Winnipeg to Vancouver, all part of one hell of an adventure.

We reasoned that our kids are getting older, and the opportunities for piling into our minivan and venturing on this kind of family vacation are numbered. We’ve never done anything like this before, and we figured if there was ever a time to do this, now is that time. So off we went, with my partner, Chris, driving, and me — as the 1990s group TLC sang in their hit song No Scrubs — hangin’ out the passenger side of (my) best friend’s ride.

We encountered a lot of nostalgia along the way. The Fuddruckers restaurant in Saskatoon looked the same as the one in Winnipeg in the 1990s. Memories hit us as we chased the sunset west. While trying to give our kids some incredible memories and experiences, we were sprinkled with the ones our parents gave us when we were young.

I’d never done this trek. My partner had. Every once in a while, as we drove that long stretch of highway, he’d tell a little story, or imitate one of his parents’ mannerisms that he remembered from the backseat of a vehicle as their family made their way across Canada.

I can only hope our kids will have those memories when they’re older.

Other bursts of nostalgia were packaged and sold to us at high-end candy stores in downtown Vancouver and Banff that offered treats from our childhood, such as Franken Berry cereal or Neapolitan taffy. They’re selling us our memories at a premium rate.

We listened to a playlist that ranged from John Prine and Post Malone to big band music and the Beatles. A little bit of everything, and a newfound soundtrack for this summer. When we got into the mountains and out of cellphone range, we switched to audiobooks, gobbling up the contents of Funny Farm: My Unexpected Life with 600 Rescue Animals by Laurie Zaleski and The Storyteller: Tales of Life and Music by Dave Grohl. It turns out the Foo Fighters frontman is the coolest, most likable person on the planet.

We listened to a playlist that ranged from John Prine and Post Malone to big band music and the Beatles. A little bit of everything, and a newfound soundtrack for this summer.

I found the audiobooks relaxing (or, as relaxing as they could be) as I gripped my seatbelt and the door handle as we drove along the busy one-lane highways on the western end of Alberta and in British Columbia. Driving along the highway feels like you’re on the edge of the world in some places. There are massive valleys underneath, filled with heaps of giant trees and a ground so far down that the streams and paths look minuscule.

The view is breathtaking, even through gritted teeth and a body so tense I was almost standing up straight (on an angle, of course) in the passenger seat. As it turns out, I — a born-and-raised Prairie gal — am not the best passenger on long highway drives, especially when they are not flat.

The turnaround point on our nearly two-week adventure was Vancouver, where my sister (the favourite auntie of kids and nieces) and my aunt Rose live in the heart of downtown, surrounded by skyscrapers and people.

As it turns out, I,  a born-and-raised Prairie gal,  am not the best passenger on long highway drives, especially when they are not flat.

While the destination (and the visit) was the big prize, and the place we stayed put for the longest, it was only part of the journey. When it was time to leave, it was hard to say goodbye. We crammed a lot into those three days.

Leaving Vancouver meant leaving a piece of our hearts behind. It also meant the first part of the road trip was over. The anticipation of the big city and the reunion with our favourite aunts had passed. Slowly at first, then at warp speed. Three days wasn’t enough, but three years wouldn’t have been, either.

We tried to make every moment count, whether we were watching parts of Canada whiz by or somehow taking part in life outside of our element. We had bellies full of road-trip food — takeout and gas station offerings from stops along the way. We cycled through the same couple of outfits. (This was the first time in my life that I did not pack enough.) The kids’ backpacks were full of their prized possessions and a couple of little trinkets we’ve collected on our journey.

Real life didn’t exist during vacation time. There were no bedtimes or alarm clocks. No looming deadlines or meeting requests. (Though Chris and I checked and responded to work emails a few times.)

The world gets a little smaller once you’ve figured out which direction you’re going.

The only expectation was to have a good time and see and do as much as we could. It’s thrilling to see new things and be in brand new places. It’s stunning to realize how quickly you can become familiar with a new place when you’ve only been there for a tiny fragment of time. The world gets a little smaller once you’ve figured out which direction you’re going.

As far as road trips go, I think this one was good. Of course, we had our share of tense moments when something didn’t go our way, or we bickered. As much as you love your family, five people in close range in a minivan or shared hotel room for days can be smothering.

But, we took our kids out, showed them a little sliver of the world and made some memories we hope will last a lifetime.

shelley.cook@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter @ShelleyACook