Road Trip Gene

Life is a journey, not a destination.
― Ralph Waldo Emerson

We are a family of road trippers.

My life BC (before children) is a series of road trips.  BH (Before Hubby) I would take solo road trips across the province, meandering across backroads accompanied by my two dogs, cup of coffee and trusty map book.

Romantic partners were judged based on road trip worthiness.  That guy who blares loud industrial grunge music (circa 1996) for a two hour drive – dumped.  That guy who believes in detours, small town gas stations and conversations with southern rock playing in the background – I married him.

I think it is notable that while Hubby and I were dating, we had to drive two hours (one way!) to see each other.  We both loved the drive.  Once he was in in my city what would we do?  Road trip!

I lived in London, Ontario (shout out to Southwestern Ontario!) at the time.  We drove to Chatham, Port Stanley, St. Thomas, Stratford, St. Mary’s, Grand Bend, Bayfield and the Pinery Provincial Park – and every stop in between.  I would pack a picnic lunch and we would be off.  We looked at countless farms, old houses and small towns.  Everything was an excuse to see the unknown – I wonder what’s over there? 

When I visited him – you guessed it.  Road trip!  The GTA and Southeastern Ontario was ours to explore – hello mighty town of Lindsay and city of Peterborough.  And all the stops along the way – Brooklin? You bet!  The neighbourhoods of Toronto?  Those were more of a walk/drive affair.  But, it’s about exploring the unknown, even in your own backyard.

For our honey moon what did we do?  Road trip!  Add a canoe and we travelled the islands and waterways of Northern Ontario together.  Wawa, population 400? That was our honeymoon destination.  I don’t think the folks of Wawa knew it.  Of course there were countless stops along the way as we cruised along together – countless ancient gas stations, picnic stops, and public washrooms.

When I was a teenager I once wanted to write a book about public washrooms across America – that was another road trip I took, with my parents.  They packed three kids aged 17, 15 and 10 into a minivan and drove from Toronto, Ontario to Arizona, with stops in California and Mexico.  (I know it’s not a linear route, but heck, it’s a road trip.)

As a child my fondest memories were driving in our family’s motorhome (a remodelled school bus called the Moose Caboose – I kid you not).  Of course we travelled across Northern Ontario, stopping wherever we wanted on the way.  You see, we all have the road trip gene.

And my kids?  Well, the crying stops when they get into the car.  Because you know it – we all have the road trip gene.

At the age of 18 months Mr. Sensitive demonstrated a superior sense of navigation, he would order – Go this way mommy.  Little Miss Adorable recognises the farms on the way to Nana and Poppa’s house – who are about an hour’s drive away.  A visit is a great excuse for a road trip.

And ‘date night’ with Hubby?  We pack the kids in the car and drive the backroads until they fall asleep.  I sit with my feet up on the dash, mapbook open to whatever sideroad or small town we’re cruising through.  Hubby drives and points out the window at the brickwork in the old stone farmhouse we are driving past.  Roap trip!

This summer what are we doing?  You bet – road trips!  Lots of them, all over our province.

Although Mr. Sensitive says he wants to go to China.

(Looks like I need to pull out the mapbook for this one.)

Are there any road trips in your plans this summer?


About Angela

Super-powered, Special Ed teacher and special needs mama to FOUR (!) children with an assortment of special needs; including Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy and Prader Willi Syndrome. Our family features a heavy dose of good ol' ADHD). I blog about our halfpastnormal life.
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2 Responses to Road Trip Gene

  1. We have the road trip gene too. We once borrowed a portable Dvd player for our 7 year old and. She neglected it the whole time. She wanted to follow our progress on the map instead.

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