Unfortunately, the radio has no such compunction about offending young ears.  I guess musicians assume that kids under the age of twelve are still listening to Raffi or Barney.  I wish.  My youngest son, now six years old, is enamoured with all songs Top 40.  The trashier the song, the more he seems to love it.  It is unnerving to hear a sweet looking little boy belt out lyrics like, “Boys try to touch my junk!”  And I’m pretty sure he thinks Katie Perry is actually referring to real popsicles when she sings California Girls (Lord, I hope so anyways.)  I find so many songs offensive that our family minivan has oftentimes turned into a battleground as I flip stations to find the most suitable music. 

“Leave it!” my boys will shriek, “I LOVE that song!” 

“It’s rude,” I’ll respond, “You shouldn’t be singing about this kind of stuff, much less KNOW about it.”

“No, we love it, we love it,” they’ll beg, my youngest always the loudest, his eyes filling with tears. “Turn it back!”

The problem with a car is that a screaming six year old cannot be sent to his room for a time-out and there’s no chance of reasoning with him when I have to focus on that BMW I’m about to ram into or the yellow light I’m racing through.  So my choice almost always comes down to: Do I listen to him freak out for the next ten minutes while I’m driving or do I just turn back to the song?  Usually the song wins (with my own f-bomb scratching at my throat to come out.)

At least the radio is kind enough to bleep out the curses.  But to filter out the songs about sex and drunkenness (gosh there’s a lot of them out there), I need to download hand-picked songs.  That’s when I realize that the songs that seemed “safe” are filled with swear words.  Little Lion Man is a fantastic song that I loved hearing on the radio.  I put it on a disc and listened to it with the kids.  I haven’t gotten around to counting how many times it sings the f-word.  I’ll let you know when I do.  And, we learned that Damn, she’s a sexy Bitch, not a sexy chick — nothing like your neighbourhood Whore?  Gee kids, let’s have a sing-along! 

There’s no winning this fight.  The kids wanna sing.  And heck, so many of these tunes are catchy!  We’ve created a compromise and the kids have agreed to use their own bleeps.  I just shrug my shoulders and smile when I hear my son belt out one of his favourite songs:

“When you see my face, hope it give you hah, hope it give you hah!  When you walk my way hope it give you hah, hope it gives you hah!”

Oh hell, what’s a mom to do?

My youngest son, however, spoke up after his brothers.  “I liked seeing all the things, Mom.” 

He is, of course, the one who cares the least for video games.  On the other hand, he’s also the one who asks every 3o minutes, “How much longer till we get there?” 

Regardless of whether my kids soaked in every moment of every experience we had throughout the road trips, the memories that matter most, that will sink into their very characters, are those of spending time together.  And that, my fellow road warriors, is going to happen with or without the DS Nintendos.

Our Montana minivan is as much a barfing receptacle as our bedroom floors.  And, what may appear to be a perfectly healthy child at the start of the trip could, in fact, metamorphose into a faucet of scrambled food.  Unfortunately, there are really no ways to prevent nausea (other than to slip Gravol into their peanut butter sandwiches, but let’s not go there.)  Thankfully, there is a way to prevent the worst part of throwing up -  the clean up. 

We always pack a barf pitcher.  Known by most families as a juice pitcher.  It has come in handy several times over the past few years when one of the kids has claimed a sore tummy.  “I feel like I’m gonna barf,” is the preferred statement uttered by my kids at least once every couple of hours in the minivan.  I will reach behind the drivers’ seat and grab the pitcher.  “Use this if you need to throw up, ” I’ll calmly advise the sick one.  The precaution provides peace of mind, even if the likelihood of the complainer filling it is close to zero. 

Our past road trip through the Maritimes, I was beginning to think the pitcher was no longer a necessary item on our packing list.  No one had actually thrown up in the van in five years.  However, during the final leg of our drive out of the Maritimes and into Maine, the undulating curves of the road proved too much for our six year old. 

He warned us of his predicament and, as usual, we pass along the clean pitcher and told him to use it if necessary.  After six episodes of vomiting, the pitcher was half full and the car reeked like a bad hangover.  When he finally had emptied his insides, we pulled over the side of the road and cleaned out the container with a bottle of water and some wipes.

The clean up took less than two minutes and our car didn’t suffer a speck of vomit.  I’ll never question the value of a barf pitcher again.

They proved correct, in most instances.  The beaches were beautiful from Nova Scotia, to Cape Breton, and of course, PEI.  Buying lobster straight off a boat topped our list of seafood thrills (of which there were many.)  Bon fires at night, mussel bakes, and the gentle Gaelic lilt of soft spoken Cape Bretoners were just a few of the experiences that painted a charming portrait of maritime life.  However, we were never convinced that these simple Eastern folk were a friendlier breed than the rest of Canada (or, at least Ontario.)  Sure, the hotel staff was courteous (it’s their job) and we didn’t come across a snooty waiter at any restaurants.  But based on what we’d been told, we’d expected personal invitations inside people’s homes where they would share their family’s history over a bowl of homemade chowder.

About five days into our trip, we both came to a similar conclusion: the friendly scale remained static from Ontario to Nova Scotia (well, it did dip slightly in Quebec City, but isn’t that part of their culture?)  We’d been slightly disappointed after all that we’d been promised, but shrugged our shoulders and patted our Ontario backs.  Torontonians weren’t so miserable after all, it appeared.  But then I drove through a small town called Liverpool.

Liverpool is a five-minute drive from White Point Resort, where we stayed.  It boasted two grocery stores, a liquor store, a few fast food restaurants, and a thriving telemarketing business (where employees loitered outside the front door with smokes every time we drove by.)  We attempted a stroll along its small downtown but quickly realized the stores weren’t all that quaint and that there seemed to be a general contempt for visitors.  The local Home Hardware sold derogatory “Caution: tourists” signs a few feet from the checkout counter.  I guess they’d never heard of the term don’t bite the hand that feeds you. 

The early evening that I’d set out to Liverpool, our wine selection was quite diminished.  I was elected by my husband to drive the minivan to town to pick up a few bottles, along with some groceries.  While most of the route was quite straight forward, I was unsure at a couple of intersections and found myself having to make a three-point turn a few minutes from the grocery store.  As is so often the case, when I began the u-turn, there were no cars in sight.  However, at the “second” point in the turn, a car emerged.  It was gunning toward me, as if to ensure that I would force it to slow down, thereby offer the driver an opportunity to be pissed off.

As I completed the third point in my turn, I lifted my left hand in thanks to the driver who’d been forced to slow down.  With my thule carrier atop the minivan, coated in bumper stickers from various cities and states, I figured he could appreciate my predicament – ”We’ve all been there! Hope you find what you’re looking for!”  Not so.

As I waved with a smile, my periphery vision caught a young man’s face sticking out of his window as he yelled as loud as he could, “Fuckin’ Foriegner!”  I slowly lowered my hand and kept driving.  Perhaps he hadn’t noticed the cargo carrier on my van.  Or the Ontario license plate – y’know that province that is part of Canada?  Maybe he’d mistaken my wave for an ancient language only known to a dwindling Zimbabwean tribe.  I don’t know.  But for one who has travelled through Europe, Asia, and the United States, the first time I’d ever been called a foreigner was in my own country.  It was disheartening.

I realize I cannot and should not base my impression of all Maritimers on this one particularly miserable individual, but he certainly eliminated any residual romantic notions of meeting those fine, chit-chatting, small town Maritimers that I’d heard so much about.  Or maybe it was just Liverpool.

In fact, spending a day strapped to a seat with abysmal lumbar support is a challenge to any human body’s tolerance for discomfort.  The act of sitting for any period of time applies more pressure on the back than any other position.  So, while strapped inside a car, any opportunity to lift the rear end off of a seat is a help.  Today’s seatbelt laws (that fortunately promote the safety and well-being of passengers) hinder us from allowing our bodies to find the positions are most comfortable for our bodies.

A lumbar support pillow is a relatively effective measure to prevent the tension that results in the lower back from sitting.  There are many brands and types of pillows on the market.  One convenient option is to purchase an inflatable pillow.  That way, each passenger’s pillow can be deflated and folded away during short drives and, depending on the size of the child, can be inflated to various pressures to suit his or her body frame. 

I recently started using an inflatable travel support pillow called Back Booster.  With some experimentation, I was able to find the most comfortable level of inflation.  When fully inflated, my upper back couldn’t rest against the top of the seat.  However, when inflated less than half its capacity, the pillow offered just enough support to mould into my lower back, thus allowing me to maintain a proper posture.  The same level of inflation turned out to fit perfectly for my six year old, as well.  His complaints stop abruptly as soon as he slips the pillow his back.    

A less effective, but easy alternative is to place a rolled towel behind the lower back.  Ideally, the driver should adjust the seat to be as straight as possible and close enough to the steering wheel to prevent leaning forward to reach the controls.  Just as important to spinal health, is to take regular breaks outside of the car.  Every few hours, pull into a rest stop for a stretch of the legs.

• Stop in Quebec City on the way and spend a day in Old Quebec.  Founded in 1608 by Samuel Champlain, this beautiful old city still boasts relics from its early days, including cobblestone streets and buildings aged in the hundreds.  Visit the museum, eat crepes, shop the artisan market and a day is quickly filled. 
• See Hopewell Rocks on the Bay of Fundy by Moncton, New Brunswick.  The kids will love to walk on the squishy dirt that was, only hours earlier, covered by ocean.  Wear flip flops or crocks for easy cleaning… They’ll get dirty!
• Drive your car up a hill backwards at Magnetic Hill in Moncton, New Brunswick.  This will take about fifteen minutes to do, so don’t plan your day around it – unless you wish to hang out at the adjoining amusement park and zoo.  We did not.
• Visit Mahone Bay and Lunenburg in Nova Scotia to see authentic Maritime living.  We visited both on one day trip, travelling from a resort called White Point in Liverpool. 
• Buy lobsters off a boat.  This may not be available every province you visit, so find out lobster season in advance for each region.  We finally found boatloads of them in Cape Breton.
• Cook your own lobster.  It’s easier than you’d ever imagine and more gastronomically satisfying than buying them already cooked.
• Eat lots and lots of mussels.  And learn how to cook these, too (add white wine and garlic for a sensational flavour.)
• Go whale watching in Cape Breton.
• Drive along the Cabot Trail, and better yet, stay in a resort or B&B along the trail for a truly rustic vacation.  I’d recommend the Celtic Lodge (higher end) or Glenghorm (the more digs in which we stayed for four days.)
• Sit by a bonfire twenty feet from the ocean.
• Attend a lobster supper in PEI.  We joined hundreds of other hungry diners at the New Glasgow Lobster Suppers, crammed inside the church hall for a sumptuous meal that included a pound of lobster each, all you can eat mussels, clam chowder, salads, boiled potatoes, and dessert for an incredible $30.  (Kids menu also available.)
• Walk the red beaches in PEI with the kids and swim in the warm ocean water (while dodging jellyfish.)
• Visit every art gallery, pottery store, and gift shop you pass - there are treasures to be found among the hundreds of Maritime artisans.
• Dig for clams in PEI, then cook’em up and eat’em.  (Okay, we didn’t do this… couldn’t fathom dragging three boys in the blistering heat to dig in hot sand for something they might not want to eat later.)
• Join a fisherman for a trip out on a boat.  My husband and ten-year-old son joined a fishing boat in PEI and each caught mackerel and cod that we later seared for a true fisherman’s dinner.
• Drive back to Ontario through a different route.  We drove to the Maine border and stayed overnight in Freeport.  Back in the land of commercialism, we embraced the outlet stores and added a few more “souvenirs” to our collection.

1. The beaches are beautiful, but the best ones are in PEI. 
2. Hotels don’t provide a good cup of coffee and the Maritimes don’t have Tim Hortons at every corner (much less Starbucks!)  If you’re a sucker for the good stuff, pack your own coffee maker and beans (or a kettle and quality instant coffee.) 
3. There is such a thing as McLobster (we didn’t try it, though.)
4. One map is never enough.  Collect as many as you can along the way.
5. When the kids’ electronic toys are banned in the car because of bad behaviour, the parents suffer most.
6. Don’t travel out east for the great weather.
7. You won’t find a guy named Mac selling seafood out of his van off the highway.  In the Maritimes, it actually comes right off the boat.
8. There is a lobster season for every province.  So, if eating lobster is a goal, find out the season dates and travel accordingly.  We missed it in Nova Scotia, but found it in Cape Breton and PEI. 
9. Sure, Maritimers are friendly, but no friendlier than anyone else in Canada.
10. Restaurant food is usually crappier than home made food, and a whole lot pricier – unless you’re ordering fresh seafood in the Maritimes.
11. Kids CAN eat hotdogs every day for two weeks and never get sick of it.
12. Quebec City really does not celebrate Canada Day!  We arrived there on July 1st and were promptly told by the hotel staff that there were no festivities.  So much for our Canada shirts.
13. The least commercial place on the planet has to be Cape Breton.  It’s the best place to embrace the beauty of nature.
14. Canada should do everything they can to protect the livelihood of their Maritime fishermen.
15. Hotels and resorts never provide cutting boards.  Pack a small one on your next road trip.
16. Whether you scream in a whisper or a loud voice (at your kids), you still get a sore throat.
17. The Maritimes isn’t about enjoying luxury accommodations, it’s about appreciating the luxury of nature.
18. Canada is a beautiful country and worth exploring.

Familiarize yourself with the three main types of carriers. 

• The cargo box – a very popular choice – is comprised of a hard shell and can cost up to $1,000.  To maximize its efficiency a set of bags that fit snugly within the compartment are available to purchase, so that no space is wasted. 
• The cargo basket is a metal basket that sits on the roof and can be filled with an array of parcels and bags.  It provides travellers a bit more flexibility than a box because items don’t have to conform to a particular shape and is similarly priced to most boxes.  The luggage can be roped in manually or held firm with netting made specifically for the basket. 
• The cargo bag is made of canvas and is collapsible when not in use, making it easy to stow away.  An added benefit is that this carrier won’t dent, or worse, become lodged should the driver accidentally enter an underground parking garage with a full load on top.  They are the most economical choice of all the carriers but are less durable. 

Consider your family’s personal needs.

• This cargo carrier may last for decades, so think about how your children’s travelling needs may evolve over the years.  Don’t base the purchase decision solely on the one major road trip the family undertakes every year.  Also think about the shorter distances driven for various reasons throughout the year such as for hockey tournaments, ski weekends, cottage stays, or camping.  Even though they are less packing-intensive than a long road trip requires, the more luggage that can be stowed on top for any length of drive, the greater the comfort for passengers inside. 
• Think about what types of activities you foresee your family enjoying as the kids grow older.  Are camping excursions in the horizon?  Skiing?  More road trips to visit the In-laws?
• Consider the pressures of every season.  Some winter sports, such as skiing, require a lot of space and families may want to buy a carrier that is long enough to fit them.  If bicycling is a cherished family outing then perhaps the carrier should be narrow enough to allow a second rack for bicycles, too.  In Canada, every season is as unpredictable as the one before and after it.  Summer days can range from blistering heat to rainstorms.  And winters can be cold and dry or a never ending tribute to the power of the shovel.  This means the Canadian roadtripper has to be prepared for every kind of driving condition, and this should also be factored into the purchasing decision (and therefore, may make the basket an impractical choice for winter driving.)   

When my husband and I decided to purchase a Thule rooftop carrier, our kids were very young.  Because the main purpose of the carrier was to accommodate our luggage during the long road trips from Toronto to Florida, we could have purchased a small cargobox for a reasonable price.  However, Ted and I planned to introduce the kids to skiing eventually and decided, therefore, to buy the longest Thule carrier available to fit the skis we hoped we would be lugging.  Last winter we drove to Ellicottville for our first ski vacation.  While the kids found plenty of reasons to squabble and complain during the drive, not one of them whined about the lack of space.  All the ski equipment was packed on top.

 ”When are we going to be there??”