This is Why We Travel

“We travel for this moment. We travel, even when it’s hard and uncertain because our curiosity tells us we must. We travel to see our children’s eyes light up when they first discover something so new and amazing they can’t help but shout “LOOK!” We travel so we can experience the world through their wonder, like the first time, again and again, leaving us with nothing left to say but wow.”

“This is Why We Travel” for Twin Cities Mom

In April coming off the high of hope and a vaccine, we scheduled a summer of yes. Yes we’ll join you for that camping trip. Yes, we’ll take a 40 hour road trip to visit Mesa Verde National Park. Yes, we’ll go to our cabin in Colorado with twelve people crammed in a one bedroom space. Yes, we will sleep on the ground for a week. Yes, we’ll keep our plane tickets to Alaska and yes we are taking the kids with us. Yes, we’ll visit Wisconsin and then Chicago and then Ohio and then Chicago again and then Wisconsin again because we want to see you and you and you and you. All of you. We just missed every single one of you. And we missed new places and new faces and new other things that rhyme with aces although I’m coming up short at the moment but you get it. This was our summer of yes and yes, we said yes to nearly everything.

On August 23 we pulled our car into the driveway, brought all of our bags into the house for the final time that summer, and then we lit a match and set our car on fire, or at least we did in my exhausted imagination.

We were so done—with the packing and the unpacking, with the pre-packing lists and the post unpacking hangover, with the snacks and the arguments and the indulgence and the unknowns. It was a lot for our family. And for this highly sensitive person (hi that’s me) it was a lot of everything.

“So you’re setting an alarm for February 2022 that says PLAN LESS NEXT SUMMER, right?” my friend asked me in the backyard one cool evening as we debriefed the highs and lows and “what did I miss?”s over a bottle of pinot noir.

“Well, no, not really. We already started planning for next summer.” Insert nervous teeth showing emoji.

It sounded ridiculous when I said it. But the truth is, when all the laundry finds its way back to the drawers and the car airs out and we settle back into home, the summer lands differently. That’s when we start scrolling through all the pictures. That’s when the stories pop up, the ones that keep us all reminiscing at the table together weeks later. That’s when we remember why we travel with kids.

I wrote about this for Twin Cities Mom Collective, on what a park ranger taught me about wonder and travel.

“But as I walk behind their energetic bodies up the path, I am smiling. This moment—the oohs and ahhs and excitement so big it propels them forward—this is why I travel with my kids. It’s my favorite part. And no matter what memories they retain, I know for certain this I will never forget.”

I also know collecting memories in word and image is another way to remember why we travel. And so that’s what I must do.

Today I’m remembering:

how good it felt to dip our toes into a cool lake after a 12 hour day of driving.

mixing up a fancy cocktail on a humble broken down table.

how much i love to do dishes when I’m camping, and only when I’m camping.

the middle of the drive pit stop where we got to give my brother a quick hug in the middle of his work day.

finding the perfect camping site when we thought every good one might be taken.

how amazing pizza and mac n cheese tastes when cooked over a campfire.

sipping hard cider in a quiet town overlooking a slow river.

watching them learn and ask questions and get excited about places we’ve talked about for months.

taking a pajama drive and witnessing an unexpected sunset that took our breath away.

the rainbow over a deep canyon.

that first “I see it mom!” exhale upon sighting the palaces we’d studied for so long.

ice cream surprise after a successful hike.

the quiet of three children watching their favorite shows, eating all the snacks, and the comfortable peace knowing our own bed is only a few hours away.

We did it. Another trip. Another reminder it’s worth it.

Until next time, holding on tight to these memories.