NASHVILLE — When my daughter’s family made the decision to move from northern California to central Tennessee, it peaked my always-up-for-an-adventure interest with an inner voice shouting, ‘road trip!’ My fellow passengers: my daughter Kathryn, her husband Mark and their three children, Cassius (age 9), Laney (8) and Quinn (6), and their lively sheep poodle Hans (age 1.5).
Preset road rules included near-dawn takeoffs, the girls’ car (plus the male dog) and the boys’ car, no following, no ‘let’s meet for lunch,’ simply drive to the day’s end spot to rendezvous — always long before dark and always with time to explore.   
So let’s hit the road!

 

Above: Hans, the family pooch, gets a front row seat while Quinn's bubble bursts.

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Day 1: California to Utah

All packed at 7 a.m., we drove for the last time from their West Lane home for the past 12 years. “I was born in this house,” Quinn lamented, though in truth her birth was at the local hospital. However, I got it — it was all she had ever known, and it was sad to say farewell.
Travelling east along I-80 through the Sierra Nevada Mountain Range, it was adjacent to Lake Tahoe’s Truckee River and past downtown Reno.
At about this time our first potential hiccup occurred. Mark called. A caution symbol in his vehicle (aka the boys’ car), a Ford F-150 truck, indicated tire trouble — certainly an irritation but typically not an obstacle unless jam-packed with heavyweight items, including a full-size washer and accompanying dryer. Thankfully, the tire shop’s diagnosis was a faulty warning light.   
Back on track and on approach to Lovelock, Nevada, road signage was direct: “Prison Area, Hitchhiking Prohibited.” Laney’s request: “Can you please lock the doors, ma’am?” Her mother explained: “We’re moving to the south so we’re working on manners.”
From California’s evergreen-covered mountains to the stark simplicity of Nevada’s high desert, the terrain seemed to instantly change at the state line, an observation we continued to notice as we travelled west to east and from state to state (in addition to lower gas prices and cleaner bathrooms). Northern Nevada was characterized by rugged mountains, flat valleys, occasional mesas and scattered desert regions. In Utah, our location was visually announced by the salt-encrusted surface when approaching Great Salt Lake.
Though brief, the evening in Park City was beckoning. As a former silver mining town, now luxury destination, Main St. brimmed with restaurants, boutiques and galleries — many kid-friendly and many dog-welcoming. Near the in-town ski lift we discovered Marriott’s Summit Watch and its assortment of outdoor dining — from sushi and Thai to pizza and more.

Above: Skipping rocks with dad during a pit stop kept the kids entertained.

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 Day 2: Utah to Colorado
 
“Here comes our second day,” announced Laney as we hit the highway. We learned over breakfast that passengers in the boys’ car drove in silence. Conversely, we girls had fun — stopped for photo ops at state welcome signs, held our breaths when driving through tunnels, timed bubblegum efforts and played the U.S.A. license plate game (Kathryn and I were thrilled to spot an Alaskan vehicle; the girls, not so much).
The route took us from a Utah forest of Christmas trees and butte-filled typography into Colorado’s Rockies; but not before discovering Vernal, Utah. Because of numerous fossils found in the area, the small town is Utah’s designated “Dinosaurland.” We knew we’d arrived when life-size dinosaur replicas (including a Pepto Bismol-pink reptile with eyelashes) appeared along U.S. 40, the town’s main drag.  
We arrived in Vail mid-afternoon and took Hans and the ‘other’ kids on a walk along the river where Cassius and the girls skipped rocks with their dad, while their mom and I watched from a ring-side restaurant table. From walking through its iconic covered bridge and listening to live music to frolicking in the Children’s Fountain (don’t forget the kids’ swimsuits), the village seemed designed for family fun. Continuing a bit further east, day two concluded with dinner and a walk-about through the ski town of Breckenridge, followed by an ice cream finale at Higgles (a local’s recommendation: coffee flavour in a freshly-made waffle cone).

Above: The girls trade their California flip flops for some cowboy boots.

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Day 3: Colorado to Kansas

 It became noticeable that each time Hans hopped into the car first, our 50-pound pal took a front-row seat. Travelling from Colorado to Manhattan, Kansas — my husband’s hometown where his great-grandfather homesteaded — we went from endless mountains to fields of sunflowers, cornstalks and cow pastures — true Americana. After hours of driving through what could best be described “the middle of nowhere,” Quinn said, “We’re somewhere, but I don’t know where.”  
Though I had remembered Kansas as primarily flat terrain, it was instead defined by a pictorial rolling hillscape. Home to Kansas State, the university’s signature royal purple was visible, and its allegiance proclaimed throughout the town of 55,000. The highlight was seeing the Dial family home on Deep Creek Road built in 1895 (the date etched into the limestone above its entrance). “See the kitchen door,” I said to the kids. “That’s where your great-grandfather watched a tornado approach and destroy the stone barn.” Family lore is that he stood in the door jamb — 15 yards away — drinking coffee.

Day 4: Kansas to Tennessee

We were concerned as the planned route along the I-70 corridor was through St. Louis, one day after historic flash flooding. But after speaking to a Midwesterner at breakfast we decided to maintain the plan, and our 10-hour drive was past well-known landmarks — the Kansas State Capitol, the St. Louis Arch and downtown “Music City,” Nashville, their soon-to-be home.  

Days 5, 6 and 7— End of the road

In Nashville, our little cowboy and cowgirls blended as if born there — whether it was the initiation to the GooGoo Store (the region’s signature chocolate/peanut/nougat/caramel candy), strolling South Broadway past its open-air music venues or shopping for their first pair of boots.
Cassius summed the sentiments of all when upon arrival he proclaimed: “This is the best day of my life.”