Before we could officially declare the Grand-Kid 2026 Road Trip complete, we still had three wonderful days together back home in Lancaster. The scenery changed, but the fun certainly didn't.
Katharyne and Grand-mère enjoyed some well-deserved "girls' time," making pottery, visiting the nail salon, and tackling a variety of craft projects that required considerably more creativity than I could have contributed.
Meanwhile, Whit and I headed in a different direction—straight to the golf course. Over two days we managed to squeeze in 36 holes, and I was genuinely impressed by how much his game has improved. He even received a quick lesson from the club professional, and it showed almost immediately. Watching my grandson begin to understand not just how to hit the ball, but how to think his way around a course, is more rewarding than sinking a long putt myself.
Only then did it feel like our adventure had truly come to an end.
But, every road trip does eventually run out of highway.
Ours began in Abingdon, Virginia, with a night at the Barter Theatre, where we learned that during the Great Depression people could literally trade vegetables for entertainment. From there we crossed Cumberland Gap, followed the footsteps of pioneers, like Daniel Boone, into Kentucky, wandered horse country around Lexington, explored French Lick, watched the Cardinals under the lights in St. Louis, stood beneath the Gateway Arch, cruised the mighty Mississippi, walked with Abraham Lincoln through Springfield, paused at Decatur's moving 9/11 Memorial, and finished among the airplanes—even a TIE Fighter—at the National Museum of the United States Air Force.
That's a respectable amount of history for one week.
But here's the funny thing about travel. Twenty years from now, I may have to look up exactly how tall the Gateway Arch is, or which three states comprise Tri-State Peake. What I won't have to look up is the sound of Whit's laugh, Katharyne's quick wit, or the conversations that somehow bounced effortlessly from glaciers... to baseball... to whether Grandpere really knows everything he claims he does. (For the record, I wisely declined to answer that last question.)
I've discovered that traveling with grandchildren is different from traveling with adults. Adults worry about hotel confirmations, the next charging station, and traffic. Grandchildren wonder whether a tram inside the Gateway Arch qualifies as a ride, whether Lincoln would have liked smartphones, and why anyone thought paying for theater tickets with chickens was a sound business model. Honestly, those are the better questions.
If one were to ask me why I enjoy these trips so much. The answer is simple. Places are interesting. History is fascinating. But the greatest destination has never been a point on the map. It's spending uninterrupted time with two remarkable young people who are curious, funny, kind, well-behaved, and genuinely enjoyable to be around.
I never grow tired of that.
Someday they'll have adventures of their own, and perhaps they'll remember a few stories about their grandfather who wanted to stop and read every historical marker. If they do, I hope they'll also remember that the real purpose of the trip was never just to see the World.
It was to see the World... together.
Never tiring of adventure, we've already started planning a trip for next year. So, until the next one, thanks for coming along for the ride.
