Hit the road! Thoughts on road trips, ideas for good ones

Road trip!

Time to hit the road. Even if you're not Jack.

Those two simple words can send all kinds of emotions running through your brain. Depending on your own experience with road trips, those thoughts and emotions can be anywhere from ecstatic to fearful - with everything in-between.

I'm sure most of us have had road trips that could be best described by an old Clint Eastwood movie - The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.

If you look it up in Google, you'll find all kinds of references - to best road trip movies, best 10 road trip lists, road trip music, great drives, and so on. You don't find a definition right away - and that's not surprising. The phrase "road trip" can mean different things to different people.

When you look up "road trip definition," this is what you'll find:
1. a journey made by car, bus, etc.

2.

 (North American) in sports, a series of games played away from home

The first I heard the phrase used was in a sporting context, as in, "the Toronto Maple Leafs are on a western road trip, around the NHL's expansion teams."

One of the first "road" trips I ever took was a combination of the two. Broadcasting varsity sports contests in the Maritimes on student radio at UNB always involved travelling to a distant location, so we had to take a "road trip" to get there. I have some amazing memories - most of them good, and even a few not so good - from those trips.

Sometimes, you hit the road to see sports.

Probably my first really long road trip involved a journey from Westlock, Alberta (an hour north of Edmonton) to Seattle, Washington - and back - in the space of three days. My buddy Peter Kilburn and I wanted to go see an NFL game, so we headed off first thing Saturday morning and drove all the way to Abbotsford, B.C. in his new Trans Am. Well, he drove; I was in charge of making sure we always had music. The next day, we drove to Seattle, watched the Seahawks play the Kansas City Chiefs, drove back to Hope, B.C. after the game, slept there, then hit the highway back to Edmonton the next day.

 Pretty whirlwind. But lots of fun.

That wasn't the longest road trip, I ever made, though. Many years later, I drove from Fort St. John, B.C. to Toronto in the space of a week (with a five-day layover to do a canoe trip in Algonquin Park), camping in national, provincial, and private parks along the way.

Ten days later, we made the return trip.

Most of the trips I've described above involve travel to get somewhere or do something. But there are many road trips that involve travel just for travel's sake, with no end destination in sight. That's why circle tours have become a popular facet of travel that tourism boards and operators promote to draw tourists and travellers to spend time in their areas.

Still, that has a bit of an element of "destination" to it. Sometimes, people just need to get away - and it doesn't matter where, they just need to "get gone" anywhere but where they are. Think, Thelma and Louise.

Now I could list my top favourite road trips (you've had a glance at a few of them), or list the top road trip tunes (I burned a whole CD of "road music" once, songs that ALL focus on the road - but everyone has different tastes), or any manner of "great drives" - but instead I'm going to give you an idea of what I think the most important five elements that go into any successful road trip. Of course, that excludes obvious elements like a car that works, money for gas, a valid drivers' licence, etc. which are no-brainers and would be included on a more comprehensive list.

1. Good company. This may seem like another no-brainer, but you'd be surprised how many people ignore this -and at their own peril. Spending days on end in a confined space like a car even with someone you love can sometimes get testy. So if you're neutral about the person, you might not survive the road trip. (Or your travelling companion might not, if you murder him/her).

Make sure to pack food - so you don't have to rely on roadkill.

 2. Great tunes. The importance of this cannot be overstated. A road trip without tunes can be boring - and dangerous. If you run out of things to talk about and don't have music, you might end up in scenario like described in No. 1. Or, if you get into a heated debate, music may save you from killing your partner, like No. 1, again. Best to try to have something everyone on the trip enjoys, too. Just don't include anything that's going to put the drive to sleep. The Travelling Wilburys or Blue Rodeo almost always trump anything "New Age."

3. A map (and a route plan). In this day of GPS and mobile map apps, it's still a good idea to have a real paper map. Your device my die; you may be out of any kind of reception in some areas. So take a road map. It also helps if you look up your route online and print it out to complement the map. It also helps to have a rough idea of where you're going to stay and what hotels are available. You may even want to pre-book hotel rooms, too. You could substitute guidebook for this, as many of them have maps included, and give you an idea of what there is to do, where to sleep, eat, etc. in the area you're visiting.

4. A charger for your device. See No. 4 above. Even if you have printed maps, a cellphone can come in handy for emergencies, etc. Plus you'll probably want to take photos and videos of the trip, and most people do that with their phones before.

5. Food and drink. Although you will be able to eat on the road, it helps to have plenty of pre-packed snacks and beverages so you're not ruled by the dictates of your stomach. Or lack of good dining options along the way. Water, juice, soft drinks and some fresh food as well as packaged food can at least take the edge off. So you don't get too hangry and ... you know, do a No. 1.

Okay, that's my take. Now get ready to hit the road.

And remember what Tom Cochrane said.

Travel memoir entertains, leaves us with hope for planet's future

To label Cameron MacDonald's book, The Endangered Species Road Trip, a "travel memoir" does not quite do it justice.

It is that, but it is more, as well.

It contains elements of humour, science, environmentalism and even a pinch of soap opera.

The book is based on the Vancouver professor's summer-long Odyssey around Canada and the United States to try to see 34 different species - plant and animal - that are endangered, or at the very least, threatened.

Depending on where you look, you may find slightly different meanings (some more convoluted than others) about these two similar but different terms.

To put it simply, according to FactMonster.com, "extinct" means the entire species has died out and can never return; "endangered" animals are those in immediate danger of becoming extinct; "threatened" species are likely to become endangered in the future.

The idea for this journey germinated while he was teaching a freshman course in environmental sciences at Langara College. Students kept asking him if the slides of endangered species he was showing were his photos, and he kept saying "no." That prompted him to plan a trip around the two countries to try to see as many species as possible, given time and distance constraints.

A daunting task, when you consider he planned to make the 114-day journey with his wife, a toddler, an infant, and their dog. In a second-hand van. And poor wifi access for much of the trip.

The tale starts out a little bit slow, a little bit ho-hum, but picks up the farther south he goes down the U.S. west coast. His sense of humour starts to seep out and the story begins to become much more alive and personal when he shares his inner feelings, frustrations and doubts about his family relations (we all have difficult family relations), particularly when they stop in his southern Ontario hometown. I can personally relate to some of the angst he describes, having experienced similar emotions regarding my own relations and situations with my parents.

Those are not the only situations I could relate to, either.

At one point, he describes an issue their van has with respect to keeping bugs out. They bought it second-hand for the trip, but it's not designed to sleep in when you're camping in an area that is insanely muggy and hot - and there are mosquitoes galore. They needed fresh air, but didn't want the bugs. So they rigged up some mesh screen with duct tape across the passenger and drive windows, rolled them down and voila! Instant screen door. Of sorts.

The Divine Ms. K and myself did the exact same thing back in 1996 when we drove across Canada in a second-hand van. Necessity truly is the mother of invention. Often a source of duct tape sales, too.

And I get the feeling he was practically channelling me, in the following passage from the book:

"...we stop at the Ojibway Prairie Complex in Windsor, Ontario, to take a quick peek at this unique habitat. However, the park interpreters are rude and lazy - too busy stuffing their faces with coffee and donuts and being miserable to discuss the ecological importance of the park and its locally endangered species. Completely disappointed, we leave without even walking a trail. I quietly fume about those useless assholes all the way to Florida."

Yep. That would be me. Except I might not me so quiet about it...I'd probably be ranting about it out loud, then posting it on Facebook and Twitter.

I could really empathize with MacDonald regarding his fear of grizzly bears in Yellowstone, a fear made worse by the fact his family was with him.

Although they did not see every species on the original list (he saw 27 of the 34), he did not really expect to; animals like Florida panthers and Arizona jaguars  are very difficult to see, and no one really knows if the ivory-billed woodpecker still exists in southern forests, or if it has gone the way of the Carolina parakeet, a now-extinct parrot species.

As a conservation biologist, he has some very interesting views on the whole global-warming issue, views that many probably share, as that issue is not as black-and-white/cut-and-dried as people on both sides of the divisive issue might have us believe.

After completing his journey, he leaves us with a message of hope for the future of our endangered species, a hope he himself feels. His views are quite different from some environmentalists, although they are tempered with reasonable skepticism and a recognition of why things are the way they are in the battle for the environment.

Time will tell if that hope is misplaced. Like the author, I hope it is not - and that his next journey of this nature holds true for him, and for our planet.

Although he did not see any gators while paddling in Florida, 

the author did spy some alligators in Big Cypress National Preserve.

Early travels full of fond memories

June is always a very difficult month for me. My father's birthday was today, June 4. Father's Day is also in June.

It just so happened, by father passed away on the eve of Father's Day, 1992.

So you can probably understand why June is not really one of my favorite months.

For that matter, the whole April-May-June quarter kind of sucks, from where I sit.

Mother's Day is in May. My mother's birthday was April 3. I put her to rest on April 5, 2007.

Suffice to say, I'm always glad when we roll into July.

So what's this doing in a travel blog, you may ask?

Well, like many people, my first memories of travel involve traveling with my family. As an only child, that meant jumping in the car and driving somewhere with my mom and dad, or sometimes, just with my dad.

Dad and I did a bit of travelling together, just the two of us, as I was growing up. Just us guys, hangin' out. It was pretty cool, actually.

My very first "road trip" took place when I was seven years old: my dad and I drove from Newmarket, Ontario to Niagara Falls. I remember anticipating the trip for weeks before school ended. Then, the second week of July, we were off.

I distinctly remember looking forward to not just seeing the falls, but also looking forward to eating a hot dog by the falls - which I did. I've eaten many, many gourmet meals over the years, but none more memorable than that one. Eating a hot dog (with mustard and relish), standing by the railing looking at the falls with my dad, the memory will never fade.

To quote that old beer commercial, "It doesn't get much better than this."

Our road trip took us across the border into New York state and into Grand Island. Why there? Because my dad was taking me to Fantasy Island.

I'm not talking about the one populated by Mr. Roarke and his sidekick Tatoo, but rather an amusement park with a decidedly western theme, rides, the whole deal.

In the early 1960s, a Saturday morning TV show on the Buffalo NBC affiliate featured hosts and a studio located at Fantasy Island. The hosts were dressed as cowboys, and they always plugged Fantasy Island in between the cartoons they showed. 

Three-year-old Cowboy John, ready for action.

Like most six- and seven-year-old boys, I loved the idea of being a cowboy. My dad decided that summer was a good time for a father-son bonding experience (although no one labeled it like that back then) and we made our plans.

I loved it.

I got to spend time with my dad, went for a Mississippi paddle wheeler ride, visited an old "saloon," went for a stage coach ride with real horses (I kept hoping bandits would try to rob us like the brochures said they sometimes did - so I could save the day like Ralphie in A Christmas Story - but they never showed). The day was capped off with a live shootout in the western town streets.

I remember much more about the trip: about teasing my dad when he had more spaghetti spots on his shirt than I did, following dinner in an Italian restaurant...drawing superhero pictures on paper in our motel room...just hanging out with my dad. It was just so cool.

Over the next several summers, our family travels took us to places like Expo '67 in Montreal, Old Fort Henry in Kingston, Ontario, Upper Canada Village near Morrisburg, Ontario, a cool cottage trip to Lake Huron and visits to relatives in Detroit.

However, we didn't do another multi-day father-son trip for another five years, when my involvement in the Boy Scouts of Canada, coupled with three summers attending Camp Richildaca, motivated me to convince my dad to go camping with me.

He eventually acquiesced, and camping then formed the basis for many of our family holiday travels for years to come, at least until I became a teen-ager and just didn't hang around with adults any more.

Dad adjusts the tent flaps,
first camping trip, June 1968.

My most memorable camping trip with him took place the first summer we camped, in the summer of 1968, when we spent a week in Algonquin Provincial Park. I camped, hiked and paddled there many more times throughout the years, but that first trip was special.

During that trip, he taught me how to play poker, at our campsite picnic table, using match sticks as chips.

We hiked, we played catch, we went swimming in the lake, roasted marshmallows over a campfire at night ... if it sounds like pretty idyllic stuff, that's because it was.

What I really remember is my dad being sick the second half of the week, but he wanted to stick it out for me as much as he could, so I'd have a good trip, a good memory.

I think it meant a lot to him, because he never got to spend much time alone, doing things with his dad. He was trying to give me what he had missed growing up. So despite his cold, he sucked it up and slept in a tent for the entire week.

After I went off to college, my parents divorced, my dad eventually remarried. However, they both began to travel internationally much more as I finished university and became more of an independent adult, with my own life and my own travels to plan.

My dad visited places like Florida, Greece, Turkey; my mom journeyed to Florida, Hawaii, the Caribbean, Colombia, Venezuela, Brazil.

So you can see I came by my love of travel, my wanderlust, quite naturally.



Sitting at the top of Victoria Falls,
Zambia, Africa, 1993.



I never did get to travel internationally with either parent, which in some ways, is very sad. They were both still alive when I began to travel outside North America. My dad lived to see me take only one international trip, though. A year after I adventured in Belize for two weeks, he passed away.

His legacy for me became part of an amazing trip I took in Africa a year after his passing, as I used most of my inheritance to pay for a six-week odyssey through six African countries.

So even in his passing, even though he was gone, in a sense, he was still travelling with me.

And he still is.

Happy Travels, Dad.