Several years ago, our family established that in lieu of Christmas gifts, our children would get airplane tickets or a road trip to select locations where we have family members willing to host our rowdy crew. We have had grand adventures visiting the desert of Arizona, the mountains of North Carolina, and the hills of South Dakota. What’s been most noteworthy, however, is how the adventures follow us home.
My husband, Karl, was a world traveler during his growing-up years. His father’s vocation took them on trips across the globe. He’s seen the likelihood of Big Ben and the Eiffel Tower, sailed the Caribbean Sea and all of the Great Lakes, He’s a “been there, done that” sort of guy.
Karl doesn’t care much about traveling and is content to stay home. When you live on a farm and raise livestock, having someone willing to stay home is a blessing! It also changes the family dynamics of our trips because I can take two or three kids to one location and the rest of the kids to another. It has been a pretty sweet deal if you ask me.
Taking our kids in small groups has been a breath of fresh air! Keeping track of two kids vs. five is a significant change. It has given me more one-on-one time with each of my children, which is a gift. Also, traveling as a solo adult has forced me to learn how to rent a car, navigate getting a taxi, what to do when flights get canceled, and all the other traveling nuances.
A couple of years ago, Jonny, Easton and I were traveling to North Carolina in March. A significant amount of snow was falling, but our flight was boarded, and we were waiting on the tarmac for de-icing before takeoff. An hour passed, and the pilot assured us we would be moving shortly. Another hour passed, and by this time, the airplane’s temperature was uncomfortably warm. The pilot’s voice came on over the loudspeaker, thanked us for our patience, and assured everyone that we would be in the air soon.
Another steamy hour passed, then another. By the fourth hour of waiting for de-icing, the airplane began to smell like the boy’s locker room after a double overtime game: sweaty, stinky, and stuffy. After one last assurance that we would be in the air soon, the pilot finally told us that the passengers would be taken back to the terminal, where we could spend the night and leave the next morning. That night, I hailed my first taxi, booked a hotel room for the boys and me, and we took off the next day.
This winter, my dad and I traveled to Arizona with four of my children and two of my nieces to visit my sister and her four children. One of the days we were there was a weekday. My sister had to work, and her kids had to go to school, so Dad and I took the other six kids on a four-mile hike to Broadway Cave in the Superstition Mountains.
About halfway through the hike, my dad’s hip got the best of him, and he decided to turn back. The kids and I were determined to get to the cave. We had attempted the hike the year prior but took a wrong turn and got lost. We would not be defeated again!
The kids and I kept going up, up, and up! We got off the trail once, but our destination was in sight, so we hurried up rocks until we made it. The views were spectacular! The hike was worth a few tears that were shed and persevering through the “Can we turn around now?” laments. We already have plans to hike to another cave next time we visit Arizona.
Earlier this spring, my oldest son and I visited relatives living in the Blue Ridge Mountains of northwestern North Carolina, near the Tennessee border. The weather was perfect! Everything was in full springtime bloom, and we were high enough in the mountains so there were no bugs.
My son and I enjoy fishing and were staying in a world-class trout fishing area, so we decided to learn how to fly fish. We hired a guide who showed two Midwestern greenhorns the finesse and art of fly fishing. Both Easton and I were immediately hooked (no pun intended). We loved every second of it! Easton hit a grand slam by catching one of every species of North Carolina trout in one afternoon.
These adventurous trips are indeed the gift that keep on giving. We have been abundantly blessed to have relatives living in such fantastic places who welcome us into their homes and lives annually. Not only do I get to share having special time with my children, but we also get to share special time with our extended family. My children have fun relationships with their cousins, and they will forever remember going on hikes in the mountains and getting ice cream at fun little shops. Easton will go on to tell about having his first trout on the line and skateboarding head-first down a driveway with his cousins.
When the kids are all gassed from a big day of adventures, I treasure the quiet chats with my sister, aunt, and uncle during the evenings. We laugh about days gone by, cry as we tell stories of people we miss, pray for each other, and look forward to the next visit. And, of course, we share recipes!
As I mentioned earlier, the adventures don’t stop when we’re back in Minnesota. Our little out-of-state ventures have ignited a new zest for hiking the most beautiful places we can find locally. We’ve also found plenty of water to cast a fly on successfully. New friendships have also been made along the way as an added blessing.
Whitney Nesse is a sixth-generation livestock farmer who is deeply rooted in her faith and family. She writes from her central Minnesota farm.
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