Highway to heaven

Clothes (check), accessories (check), shoes (check), sun hat (check), sunglasses (check)... ready to roll? Off we go on yet another road trip.... 

Cross-country odysseys weren't really a part of our childhood growing up. When schools closed for summer, we packed our bags, sat in a bus and headed straight to our grandparents home. We spent the entire summer nestled in nature's arms (no regrets on this whatsoever). 

As I grew up and entered my college era, a few of my friends got hitched early and relocated to the United States. One of them posted on Facebook about taking a road trip across the US. I thought this was insane... how could someone spend hours and even days huddled in a little car. Fast forward to now and here I am making at least 4 road trips each year. 

My husband loves driving and can stay glued behind the wheel for hours. I still remember how he bravely planned an impromptu trip to Ottawa a month after he got his Canadian license and was brand new to driving in the snow. We made it through that one and there's been no looking back... we simply need a reason to hit the roads.  

Our road trip culture is straight forward. We head out at the crack of dawn, we pack decently healthy snacks (so we're not bloated), I don't drink any form of fluid to avoid the bathroom runs and the gals mostly refrain from banter when in confined spaces such as the Nissan Rogue. We love our little chats; there is always plenty of good-natured leg pulling, forced rounds of 20 questions (thanks to Samara's game requests), debates over the next pit stop or the jukebox requests. Once the trip comes to a close, we always ask each other what our favorite part was. 

There is something magical about getting the house ready, packing carloads of luggage that never need to be weighed and filling snack bags with our favorite treats. No matter how many trips we've taken, the excitement never fades; every time we plan a new adventure, the butterflies in my stomach break into the same happy dance. 

For the Ullas', its not the destination alone, but each moment of the journey that matters. I hope this family tradition continues long after the gals have flown the nest. I hope that when Ullas and I are older and a little frailer, the gals will swing by, shove us in their back seat and drive us to a new adventure. And when that trip comes to an end, we go around the table answering the same question: "What was your favorite part of the trip?"