How to survive summer road trips
TAKE TIME TO ENJOY THE SIGHTS A little preparation in advance can avoid a lot of consternation after departure
The kids will be out of school in a week or two, and you will be deluged with list after list of how to get ready for a road trip. Whether the trip is for the day or a week, well-intentioned editors will lobby for — and get — extensive tips and tricks for keeping everybody happy and healthy, or at the very least, alive. You only need to know five things. Everything else will be like all the stuff you learn in Lamaze classes; great in theory, but out the window when the pain really hits.
1
Get your car checked
Today. Not the day before you go, but now. An hour with your mechanic might save your entire trip. Ever been by the side of the road in Buttfuzzle, Pennsylvania? Ever seen that look on the tow truck driver’s face as he tells you he has a cousin who has a garage? Most new cars come with a roadside assistance program, and most of us forget when it has run out.
You might know in theory how to change a flat tire, but make sure you know how to do it on your specific car. I spent half an hour looking for the jack on an expensive luxury SUV a few weeks back, only to discover it was made of toothpicks and straw. How much you pay doesn’t always translate past the leather interior and howdy-doody navigation system.
2
Give children power
They are basically being held hostage back there, often in car seats. I’ve been in traction and had more mobility than my kids had in those things. I used to be one of those preachy people who said I’d never let my precious angels tangle their minds with movies and video games. Then I had kids and realized I was prepared to buy peace at any cost, and I also realized growing up, our favourite car game was counting roadkill. My Mom wanted to sing; we wanted to play guess the carcass.
If your teens are mopey and sulky, congratulations: They’re normal. Don’t make them sit at the same table when you stop for lunch, and yes, your daughter probably is flirting with that guy who looks like a carny, but she’s been trapped with her family in a space the size of a rowboat for a week — do you blame her?
3
Zip-lock bags
This gets its own number, it’s that important. They come in lots of sizes and they have uses you haven’t begun to imagine. You can put a wet bathing suit in a zip-lock bag. You can put barf in a zip-lock bag. You can put garbage, medicine, snacks and shells in zip-lock bags. If you don’t, you will have wet things making dry things wet; you will have fighting over one bag of pretzels; you will have shells and stones that sure weren’t
4
Stop the car
that stinky when we collected them; you will have things handed to you while someone says, “What do I do with this?” Zip-locks are a barrier against all things wet, smelly, leaking or gross.
You’re not only making time, you’re making memories. Oh, nobody will appreciate it in the moment, but one day, as you sit around dinner or give toasts at weddings, these are things you will reach for. If you’re the Smiths driving through Smithville, stop and take a picture at the road sign. There is a huge rock painted like a snapping turtle near my cottage and not only do I think people should take pictures of their children on it, I think people should have their wedding photos done here.
5
Do not open the cage
Generally speaking, children must learn things for themselves. The fact you know better doesn’t matter; true life lessons are never second-hand stories, they’re all experienced up close and seared into your memory bank.
At 14, I learned a lesson that I carry with me to this day. When you travel with a cat, there is a reason you put it in its cage. It is for safety of the creature and the sanity of the voyagers. The problem? Nooly (don’t ask) hated his cage. As he yowled and cried, cage perched on the seat between two of us, we whispered and comforted him and believed he was being tortured. We sat in stop and go traffic en route to cottage country, windows down because air conditioning was for other people.
My father was already cussing the conditions, and when he started panting — Nooly, not my Dad — we truly believed our cat was on the edge of certain death. Quietly, carefully, my sister and I eased open the cage.
The plan was a cuddle and a whisper of love, calming our baby only for a moment to remind him all would be right with his world in an hour or two. Before the catch was fully free, the cat rocketed out of the cage and dove under the pedals beneath my father’s feet. That was the first time we’d ever actually been grounded at the cottage.