Where are you headed? Chit Chat #25
Do you have a summer travel tradition?
Memorial Day is this weekend in the states, the official kick off to summer.
I think there is immense value is exploring new places, even if it’s a new restaurant or neighborhood right across town. I also love creating travel traditions—going to the same place every year builds anticipation, forges relationships, and creates deep, meaningful connections and memories.
Is there a place you return to every summer (or did growing up)?
Where is it? What made it special? I want to hear about it.
Memorial Day for me was always about the end of the school year, the joys of childhood, heading to the beach. Hanging out with my buddies on Long Island was a big part of that. The carefree joys of a spoiled childhood.
But when I pondered this question for myself, I more specifically remember the joys of the over stuffed family station wagon. That weekend, that Friday night every year in the 60s was all about packing for weeks to cram bags into every inch of the old Buick. Big boxes strapped to the roof, we had to drive slowly through the city until we hit the highway. So much to bring out to the beach, because my mother and I wouldn’t return until Labor Day. The promise of a long stretch of time ahead, the not knowing… but the knowing of clambakes and sailing, of late night beach fires and sunburns, of baseball and birthdays…the familiarity of rituals and the mystery of it all.
So tell me: what’s your summer travel tradition?
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Wow, just flashed back to childhood….5 kids & parents packed into the station wagon…with the cool seats in the very back, we could hang our feet out the back window & wave at truckers! 😂 For years that trip was to the same cabin in Rhinelander WI with a bunch of other families we vacationed with. Cabin on the lake, swam, jumping off dock, and lots of fishing & waterskiing. With 4 brothers, learned young…if you want to fish…you bait your own hooks & clean your own fish. Would give anything to spend one more day fishing with my dad. Would love to cook a whole fish properly for him over fire.
When I was a kid it would be our adventure from California to Texas to visit family. We did this every other year. We'd pile in to my parents mustang II, along with our cockapoo, Fluffy, and hit the road. On those road trips was the first time I had bison, and sopapillas. Once we got into Texas we'd stop at a Dairy Queen and get a Dude sandwich - since Texas DQs were the only places that carried that chicken fried steaky burgery goodness. At my grandmother's in Clarksville, which is a small town in North East Texas, we'd have tamales swimming in grease but oh so good. We'd get them from Harrison Lee, who was also known for his bbq. In Dallas my great Aunt Mae would make THE BEST FOOD, but I always remember having biscuits topped with her strawberry fig preserves. She'd always send a few jars back to California with us.