Fortunately for us, the breakfast buffet doesn’t close until 2pm—their loss! Brunch highlights: bottomless coffee, eggs to order and a full blintz-topping-bar. There was also complimentary 7-grain, pre-buttered toast. Outstanding. Our Canadian waitress remarks that she occasionally buys the New York Times in order to peruse the sex-and-the-city-type-listings.

It takes roughly four hours to get through customs and out of Canada. We pass the time watching Superbad and Ratatouille. Our cutting edge GPS device supports a Bluetooth connection. When there’s not too much static we run our laptop audio into the GPS device, like a handset, which can distribute all of its sound on unused FM radio channels. We arrive at Cornell after dark. The whole gang is there waiting for us: Andy, Hugo, Sammy. We dropped off Jack, but not a moment too soon.

The remaining six of us (dad, mom, Zoe, Em, Sam and Mike) could not have been prepared for our next reservation, the Binghamton Econo Lodge. We check in, pick up our keys, drive out back and enter the building. Mike was prescient in his initial observation of our room. “What is that smell,” he asked. “I don’t usually mind smells, but this is really something.” He couldn’t have known then that we (Mike and I) got the “good smelling room.” Room number two, we decided, smelled like rotten Brussel sprouts. The initial remedy, proved to be opening up the adjoining doors and letting the bad smells in each room (spoiled milk + cigarettes) mix and equalize. Zoe was an initial objector, but we were prepared to sit it out. After all, “everything is booked up in Binhamton” and we’ve been through worse. We began settling in when dad made a shocking discovery. He tempted the fates by slowly peeling back the comforter on his bed. And, as if he willed it, discovered a used, hairy bandage. And that was the gauze that broke the camel’s sense of dignity.

In no time flat we were back in the van, exploiting the Econo Lodge’s wi-fi to find a better hotel. At some point, Rietje woke up her parents in the middle of the night to see if we needed a emergency lodging. We decided to suck it up and do tomorrow’s driving tonight. Hello Bethlehem, PA, here we come!

The whole clan got up at the crack of noon (a trip motif). We moved swiftly to the International House of Pancakes across the parking lot and feasted as if there were no tomorrow. Some culinary highlights include: an amazing suite of flavored syrups, Emily’s chocolate chip pancakes, Sam’s corn beef hash omelet, Zoe’s dubious popcorn shrimp platter and the communal stack of multigrain pancakes. Our waitress was just lovely. She joked about giving dad’s omelet the Hollandaise sauce infusion he so feared. IHOP gets four stars.

After breakfast, we traipsed about downtown Holland, stopping at a furniture-cooking-clocks-welcome-mat-novelty-plaque store called Teerman’s. Now we visited Holland, MI at the same last year, but without Mike. It was time to show him the Netherlands of the Midwest. The kids each picked from a slew of culinary supplies for their respective apartments (things like avocado slicers and rocking garlic crushers). Mom bought a device which ensures you get every ounce out of each tube of toothpaste.

After splitting up—some of us visiting a bookstore, others a clothing and athletics store—we rendez-voused at a local, independent coffee shop and ordered smoothies, iced coffee (complete with “coffee ice cubes” which won’t dilute), and chocolate-covered espresso beans, all while consuming free wireless internet.

Zoe found a tent she liked!

Make way for fanny!

Everyone piled back into the van so we could go mini-golfing (Zoe and Jack prevailed in their respective teams), batting caging (including a few rounds in the 80 mph cage—no problem for the big guys) and travel to Holland beach.

After all the fun and games, we returned to downtown Holland to enjoy our last meal at the New Holland Brewery, an establishment known for its variable-beer tackle boxes. Favorite beers if you’re in the area: The Poet, The Tulip and Sundog.

From Holland to London

After dinner, our venerable DD (designated driver), mama becker, took the reigns and drove us four hours, deep into London, Canada. We arrived at a Four Points Sheraton around 2am. Mike, Jack and I fell asleep immediately after catching game five of the men’s volleyball semifinal: US vs Russia. Jack got the cot as he was one night away from his Cornell bed. Next up, Ithaca.

It’s August in the Midwest and that can mean only one thing. Road trip! All seven Beckers have gathered together under one roof to begin their yearly journey east. The lease has expired on our SUV of choice—the unrivaled, black GMC Envoy. In its stead, we have rented a massive, white 15-passenger Chevy Express super-van. The only thing missing is the Partridge outfits. The first destination on this freedom train? Holland, MI.

We departed around three o’clock. Our route takes us through Chicago and across Indiana. We made it as far as South Haven, MI before making our first stop. There we consulted the great blue cow oracle, better known as Sherman’s Dairy Bar. Just like last year, we put together an outlandish order of ice cream flavors: keylime pie, grasshopper, root beer, peanut butter and Sherman tracks—the distant cousin to the better known moose tracks. After eating our fill, we moseyed on down to the South Haven lakefront. After tossing around the Frisbee (‘bee, hereafter), we played a rousing game of butt-ball. The goal in this sport is to throw a sixteen-inch softball as high as you can while a recipient-in-waiting prepares to “catch” it somewhere on his backside. The closer you are to a cheek, the more comfortable the transaction. Hits in the lower back tend to mount up and increase in sensitivity. We invented this ingenious game, but hope to see it grow.

Needless to say, everyone worked up a mean appetite for the New Holland Brewery. Alas, our plans were thwarted by an unforgiving “early close” policy rampant throughout all of Holland. Everyone’s kitchen closes by 9pm, no exceptions. After much searching, we gave up and drowned our sorrows in a bountiful Applebees feast in the strip mall across from our Fairfield Inn. It was a close tie with the neighboring IHOP, but we saved that for tomorrow morning!

The Becker Lake House … a quick preamble to the road trip. We spent two days in Waterford, WI relaxing and drinking Beergaritas.

Incidentally, this is how you make this Southwest delicacy:

1 (12-ounce) can of frozen limeade concentrate
10 ounces of white tequila
3 (12-ounce) Mexican-style beers, such as Corona
Ice and Lime slices for garnish

And one long night on the deck before returning to Highland Park.

We packed the van and let ‘er rip!

Hello Tuscon, here we come!