We went dancin’ across the USA

Like most families, we try to take a vacation every summer. But constraints — those of money and time off from work, primarily — have conspired to keep our summer jaunts within the confines of the Lone Star State in recent years. It’s a great state, but you need to get away once in a while.

So, when we learned last year that our niece would be getting married in late June, I jumped at the chance to piece together a real vacation, with a wedding and family reunion as its centerpiece. I wanted something light-hearted and fun, a rambling journey across a swath of this country.

I had visions of la enfermera and I, a la Beverly D’Angelo and Chevy Chase, taking the Family Truckster “across the USA,” with Christie Brinkley waving to me from her flashy little sports car. Instead of California’s “Wally World,” we would be bound for Ohio.

It had been six long years since we last embarked on such an excursion in our Ford Windstar and, on that occasion, Beverly D’Angelo (la enfermera) had just one week of vacation time, so she flew to Ohio and missed out on much of the touring part. Still, that vacation became the stuff of family lore. Its memories — from beautiful vistas and spooky nighttime drives to playful bickering and childlike exploration — are still the topics of conversations for us and will be for our children, I hope, for the rest of their lives.

I knew that recapturing the magic of our 2001 trip was a longshot. Even the ability of all six of us to go was in question. Our two oldest children could have had jobs to interfere with their going but, as it turned out, they did not. The wife got two consecutive weeks of vacation for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-long. I was the driving force behind the trip, much like Chevy was, so I was on board, of course, and the two youngest kids, well, they had no choice but to go.

So it was settled. All six of us were going. But questions remained. Aside from our ultimate destination, exactly where were we going? And how were we getting there?

On the latter question, flying was out. The expense would be great and, besides, getting there is half the fun.

The Windstar’s best days are behind it, so we weren’t going to be taking it on a drive of more than 3,000 miles. Renting a vehicle big enough to haul all six of us and our luggage also would have been prohibitively expensive, so it was decided by my committee of one that the best solution was also the craziest one — take two vehicles, la enfermera’s Pontiac Aztek and our daughter’s Ford S100 pickup.

This caravan approach had its ups and downs:

Ups: 1) Kids don’t always play nicely, so having two vehicles meant we could separate some if they were getting along.

2) Two vehicles meant we could split into two groups and go our separate ways, like when the boys went hiking in the mountains and the girls went shopping.

3) Two vehicles meant enough space for us and our belongings. Four people and comfort items — pillows, blankets, totes and a big ice chest with food and drinks — went in the Aztek. The truck carried two people in its cozy cab and our luggage in its bed. There was even enough room during our return for a small fridge and microwave oven that were given to our dormitorybound daughter.

Downs:

1) Two vehicles meant two drivers at all times. With four licensed drivers, that was doable.

2) Two vehicles equals two gas tanks, which equals double fill-ups at every gas station. (The bills haven’t come in yet.)

3) Carrying our luggage in the truck meant a strenuous and elaborate process of packing the bed and covering it with tarps in case of rain. (And, believe me, it certainly did rain. Twice it rained hard enough to force us to pull off the highway and stop.)

All that was left was to plan our route. We knew that we had to be in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio, by June 29, the night of the rehearsal dinner. But where would we go during the week leading up to that night and what would we see?

Back in 2001, I made a point of taking my kids to two locales that I had visited years before with my parents and had enjoyed immensely — Natchez, Miss., and Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. I figured that we should seek new stopover points this time.

“How about New Orleans?” I asked la enfermera.

“Too depressing,” she said, as she clutched the Louisiana tourism guide that I had sent for. “How about this?” she said, pointing to an ad for Cajun Jack Swamp Tours.

I was happy for any input instead of the standard, “Whatever you say.” “Whatever you say” connotes agreement, but it still leaves you open to recrimination when your plans go awry.

So our first destination was set: Morgan City. La.

For our second stopover, I chose Gatlinburg, Tenn. My oldest brother — not the Ohio one — had visited there with his wife on numerous occasions. There must be something that drew them there, I figured. Besides, the mountains would make a great contrast to the swamps of Louisiana.

Our plans were set. All that was left was for us to travel 3,500 without killing one another.

Next week: We head north.

Davidson is the Star opinion editor. He can be contacted at 430-6289 or by email at