Juliet enjoying the ride on the Jet Express Ferry to South Bass Island in Lake Erie
With school back in session next week, I took the kids on another week-long trip visiting six national park sites and much more. Here is what it was like to travel with my daughter, Juliet.
I have relayed in many of these travelogues how I share these trips here on a blog devoted to Down syndrome prenatal testing to show new and expectant parents and the professionals who care for them what life can be like for an individual with Down syndrome. This is what it was like traveling with an individual with Down syndrome through four states and over 1,200 miles.
Dayton, Ohio
I planned this trip so we could complete the remaining National Parks Service sites in Ohio en route to our furthest destination of Sleeping Bear Dunes on the northeast shore of Lake Michigan. It also happened that we would be staying in cities with minor and major league baseball teams and catch four games over the eight-day trip.
Our first game was the Dayton Dragons vs. the Lansing Lugnuts. The Dragons are the Single-A affiliate for the Cincinnati Reds, the same parent organization for our hometown Triple A team, the Louisville Bats. The kids have their routine at ballgames: upon entry, visit the team store and buy a hat for James and a t-shirt for Juliet, then get a pretzel and settle in for the game. After one of the Dragon players hit a home run, for the rest of the game, he was “My Guy” to Juliet, excitedly saying that each time he came to bat. After the Lugnuts scored the go-ahead and winning run that was an inside the park homerun off of a bunt (!) (due to two overthrows to first and third base), I was pounding the seat in front of me yelling for the catcher to hold the throw to third. After the debacle, I turned to Juliet and she just shook her head and said, “Too loud, dad.”
Toledo, Ohio
Another reason for this trip was an excuse to take the travel trailer out on the road again. Like the baseball games, we have a routine for setting up the trailer. James helps lower the stabilizers once I get it level, meanwhile Juliet makes us all peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for our lunch. I acknowledged these gender-stereotypical roles when asking Juliet to help with making lunch, but she didn’t mind, instead beaming with pride as we all three bit into our sandwiches. I had asked for mine to be cut into triangles, which Juliet did by cutting the sandwich into four triangles instead of just the two halves I expected. James seized the moment to chide her, and after I chastised him, Juliet said, “I have trouble with the triangles.” I told her I’d show her what I meant next time.
One of the challenges of being just a dad traveling with a daughter involves restroom breaks. Juliet can oftentimes linger while in the restroom; she likes to sing while she’s in there (likely due to the acoustics). This requires me to ask a kind female stranger heading into the women’s restroom to check on Juliet. I prevailed upon one of these nice ladies at the campsite one morning. I could hear her discretely calling out “Juliet? Juliet, are you in here?” No answer. I waited a little while longer outside and sure enough Juliet exited. Exasperated, she said, “Dad, someone was calling my name!”
Between visiting two NPS sites, we toured the impressive Toledo Zoo & Aquarium. For whatever reason, Juliet has a fixation with sharks. No matter how many times I assured her there were no sharks in Lake Michigan, she would still ask again, “Dad, are there sharks?” Well, at the Toledo Aquarium, there were sharks! When I asked her what her favorite part of the zoo was, without hesitation, Juliet said, “Sharks.”
The photo at the beginning of this post is from the first of two ferry rides we took. We drove to Port Clinton, Ohio to take the ferry to South Bass Island where we docked at Put-in-Bay, Ohio, the site for Perry’s Victory & International Peace Memorial. Like at each NPS site, the kids completed their Junior Ranger programs. This one included a requirement to pick up litter (an interesting conscripting of children for park maintenance). James shunned the manual labor, but Juliet liked putting on the medical gloves and gathering up sea gull feathers on the grounds. The picture of her enjoying the breeze on the top level of the ferry as it motored at top speed across Lake Erie was a lucky, pure shot for me to get of her reveling in the feeling and the moment.
Detroit, Michigan
The chair Lincoln was shot in at Ford’s Theatre
Before taking in the Tigers vs. the Reds, we visited The Henry Ford and Motown Records. At The Henry Ford, we saw a multitude of automobiles, train engines, an entire display of the various iterations of the telephone, but spent most of our time in the museum’s historical collection. The Henry Ford has the bus where Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat. It has a section on the Suffragette Movement, which the kids learned about when we visited D.C. in 2017. And, it has several items related to Abraham Lincoln: a cast of his hand, orders that he had signed, and the chair from the balcony in Ford’s Theatre where Lincoln was shot. Leaving the museum, I asked the kids what they thought about it. Juliet said she didn’t like it. I asked her why? She said, “Sad, Dad.”
Fortunately, her mood improved as we headed to the ballgame. We know many of the players due to them coming up through the Triple A team (which we saw play the Toledo Mudhens the night before). While walking into the stadium, Juliet ran down a list of her favorite Reds players to ask if she would see them that night, “Billy Hamilton? (yep); Devon Mesoraco? (catcher, nope, traded to the Mets); Jay Bruce (nope, traded to the Mets, too); Brandon Phillips (nope, traded to Atlanta).” (The Reds are “rebuilding”). But whatever regret she had at not seeing those players was forgotten once Joey Votto stepped to the plate. “Dad, that’s my guy!”
Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore
By Day 5, we had arrived at our end destination point, driving across the width of Michigan. The kids take turns on who gets to ride shotgun with Dad. When Juliet is up front, she likes to congratulate herself, saying “I’m a good co-pilot, Dad.” And, she is. She sings along to the songs on the radio; reaches over for me to hold her hand occasionally; seems genuinely interested as I point out passing sights. If I’ve lingered too long on the Outlaw Country station, she’ll ask “Dad, listen to my music?” Plus, she’s a quick defender of her little brother. If he gets argumentative (which is often, he is my son), and I get short with him, she’ll remind me, “Be nice to your son, father.” This and many other comments of hers (invariably pronouncing the band that sings “Africa” and “Rosanna” as “Too-Too” instead of “Toto”) will often elicit a chuckle from me, which she snaps back, “Oh yeah, keep laughing. Ha, ha.”
Sleeping Bear Dunes is a geologic feature carved by the glaciers of the Ice Age and formed by the westwardly wind across Lake Michigan. These factors have piled rock and sand along the lakeshore at some points 450 feet high. Our first stop was at the Dune Climb, where the first ridge is 110 feet up. Climbing on solid ground at that steep of an angle is enough of a challenge, but when you add the dynamic of sinking into the sand beneath your feet with each step as you try to push yourself up, it’s that much more daunting. Juliet knew her limits and stopped at about the 60 foot level. I asked her to either stay there or wait for us at one of the park benches at the bottom while James and I finished the climb. When we started our descent back down, I didn’t see Juliet at first, but then I caught her, just a few feet over to the right, engaged in a conversation with another hiker. We rejoined her and, as is her habit, she introduced me as “This is my Dad. He’s 44.”
We continued driving north into the park to Glen Haven, where we parked to go swimming. Or at least that was our plan. The water, however, was more than refreshingly cool–it was freezing. That didn’t stop Juliet, as she floated out on her noodle to where the water was just above her head. While I’m probably more comfortable than most parents letting their children be on their own, knowing that riptides can occur in Lake Michigan, I jumped in as well and swam out to her. James exercised the better sense of judgment and stayed wading on the shore line. But, had I not gone out swimming with Juliet, I would have missed what was the most remarkable sight of the whole trip. The lake was crystal clear, allowing you to see all the way to the pebbly lake bed. The sun’s rays likewise penetrated through the rippling surface, causing it to be refracted, casting prisms on the rocks. Thanks to Juliet, I took a moment to take in the beautiful sight.
South Manitou Island
The walkway to the beach
The second ferry of the trip was the longer, 80 minute trip from Leland, Michigan to South Manitou Island, an uninhabited preserve that’s part of the national park. We had signed up for a wagon trip to the west end of the island to see a grove of 600-year old white cedars and a shipwreck. There was just enough time to hike the 1/8 of the mile to the Visitors Center so the kids could get their passport stamps. I set off at an aggressive clip to encourage the children to similarly hustle. James followed suit and Juliet brought up the rear. James and I entered the unstaffed Visitor Center, got the passport stamp, and then I began surveying the exhibits. After a moment, I realized it was still just James and me. I dashed out of the building and Juliet was no where to be found. A lady returning on a walkway said she hadn’t seen a little girl in that direction, so I ran back to the harbor. Still no Juliet. And I could hear the tram pulling the wagon approach. James continued to shout out “JULIET,” but like the bathroom, no answer. I returned to the Visitors Center and ran down the walkway, which is where I found Juliet, shoes off and wading in Lake Michigan. A terrifying moment of possibly losing my child on a wild island, but Juliet was unphased, looking at me like where else would she have chosen to be between the Visitors Center or wading along the lakeshore.
We ended our visit to the island with a visit to the lighthouse. There were 117 steps that took you 100 feet into the air, offering a view of the entire island. The Park Ranger grouped all the kids in one group to go up into the lighthouse, with room for just three adults, which I joined. Juliet had a few complaints about the spiral, metal staircase, “Ugh, these stupid stairs,” but she climbed all 117 and made it to the top. The Ranger rewarded her with a Junior Ranger badge for her persistence.
Traveling with Juliet
We finished our trip with one more baseball game, seeing the Fort Wayne Tincaps take on the Dayton Dragons. While almost a week had past, when the same player who had hit the home run came to the plate, Juliet looked at me and said, “Dad–that’s my guy!” We sat and enjoyed the game while James ran around the stadium checking out the various concessions and views. Like in Detroit, Juliet and I split a bag of peanuts, with me helping her by cracking the shells as I handed them to her. She cheered for the Dragons, booed at calls that went against them, and did not like how raucous the home crowd was as the Tincaps handily defeated the Dragons.
A late addition to the itinerary was to attend the Down Syndrome Indiana fly-in event at a local, private airport. There was a candy drop from a helicopter and more concession food. We attended though to see our old friends who had lived in Louisville before work moved them North and to see the DSI staff that I have been friends with through the national Down syndrome conferences and their inviting me twice to train their volunteers on medical outreach. When I went to introduce Juliet to DSI’s executive director, Juliet first said, “I’m shy,” which she sometimes is in large, loud gatherings, but then I said this director just like our director in Louisville. Juliet dropped the shy-part and gave her a big hug.
Having made a cross-country trip with my own family when I was Juliet’s age, she is far better behaved than my two brothers and I were. Moreover, I would have never expected fourteen years ago when Juliet was born and I was reading about all the challenges and struggles she would face due to developmental and intellectual delay caused by Down syndrome that she’d be making our lunches, showering and dressing all on her own, completing Junior Ranger books, talking to the Ranger and asking questions as we hiked through the White Cedars, swimming out faster and further than I could reach her in Lake Michigan, and sticking up for her little brother. I also would not have expected all of her funny sayings, her memory of ball players she liked from years past and days past, and the placid, roll-with-it attitude that makes traveling with her so easy and such a joy.
Lake Michigan Overlook atop a 450 ft tall dune at Sleeping Bear Dunes
Keep blogging Mark. This was inspirational.