Sascha Zuger is the author of the New York State Moon Handbook (coming in June) and Dancing Under Water (forthcoming from HarperStudio in 2011), a memoir of her diving years.

“In the case of emergency, oxygen masks will drop from the ceiling. Those of you traveling with children, I’m sorry.”

The flight attendant’s announcement brought a giggle from the plane. Traveling with children can be an adventure. Traveling abroad even more so. As we approached the border on one such trip, it occurred to me that my child, at three years, was arriving at an age where there was no predicting what might issue from his mouth at the worst possible moment.

This was not always reason for concern. His first flight at the ripe age of ten days old was only realized by me placing his six pounds two ounces, tucked inside twelve pounds four ounces of blankets, on the desk of the ticket agent who had previously told me the flight was fully booked. I would need to wait four days for the next flight out of the third world country in which he was born.

I should have booked at least a month in advance, she scolded. I refrained from pointing out that I had no confirmed ETA on the birth of my son, so booking an advance ticket was somewhat of a challenge.

Instead I smiled, set him on her desk, and pretended to rifle through my bag. The boarding pass magically appeared within seconds, and we were on our way as soon as I could pry him away from the fifteen airline employees googly-gooing him.

After a quick stop at airport security, where it was deemed necessary to ask his sex to obtain the correct gendered security personnel to frisk him, booty to newborn Mohawk, we boarded his first of many flights. This began a long tradition of my son oiling the wheels of the system with a giggle and a smile.

But no more. He was now dangerously verbal. And as an attendee of a performing arts preschool, a miniature thespian so convincing that I nearly believed him when he explained one day that he was not my son, but a policewoman named “Taco.” They might just ask him the questions instead of me. And they might believe Taco, the three-year-old police woman, instead of me.

This realization made me nervous. It is not recommended to look nervous when crossing borders.

I held my breath as the immigration official leaned into the vehicle. Flipped through our passports. He switched from his suspicious you-are-likely-an-axe-murder glare to the welcome-to-our-country smile. I switched from my wide-eyed please-oh-please-let-me-into-your-country look to my thank-you-I-will-now-proceed-to-spend-many-US-dollars-here smile. The man was in the process of waving us through when my three-year-old, who happens to bear no physical resemblance to myself, piped up with a dramatic, quite well rehearsed, “I…am mama’s son.”

The waving hand turned mid-wave into a stopping hand. Forty minutes later, our re-verified paperwork turned inside and out by multiple unsmiling agents, we were again on our way.

Traveling with children is a learning experience. This trip, I learned to always pack an extra large jawbreaker.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

side·track (sīd´trăk): n. 1. A diversion from the main course. 2. A detour taken with children that you would never, ever take without them.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Who:
Travel Savvy Mom founder Jamie Pearson, her 10 and 7-year-old kids, another travel writer and her family, and Ryan Whaley, intrepid Communications Manager for Keystone Resort and all around good sport who gamely volunteered to drive the sled (and be thrown off) in the rollercoaster-y parts.

What:
An absolutely hilarious and exhilarating one-hour dog sledding tour through the Middle Fork of the Swan River with Good Times Adventures in Breckenridge, Colorado.  Kids as young as three can drive!  A guide drives a snowmobile towing a passenger sled.  The dogs follow behind, pulling a sled that fits one driver and one passenger.

Why:
A press trip sponsored by Vail Resorts highlighting the family friendly attributes of Keystone Resort and the surrounding area.

The High Point:
The looks of unadulterated ecstasy on my children’s faces as they called out, “Mush!” to the dogs and gingerly took their size three feet off the brakes.  Even though I was terrified every time we drove downhill into a sharp turn, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for all of us.

The Low Point:
Definitely when my friend Kara’s son flew off the sled into a snowbank.  He didn’t seem to mind, but I almost had a panic attack.  Also, I accidentally groped Kara’s leg in the passenger sled when I was trying to get a better grip on my daughter.

The Kids’ Take:
My turn!  My turn!

The Adults’ Take:
One of the best things we’ve ever done with our kids.  Definitely the best thing we’ve ever done with our kids in sub-freezing weather.

The Bottom Line:
If you’re ever in Colorado anywhere near Keystone, Breckenridge, Beaver Creek, or Vail with your family, run don’t walk to this exhilarating activity.

Today’s guest is Holly Hughes, the author of Frommer’s 500 Places to Take Your Kids Before They Grow Up and co-author of Frommer’s 500 Extraordinary Islands. She lives with her husband and three teenage kids in New York City, a perfect jumping-off place for their wide-ranging travels (including a classic coast-to-coast USA drive last summer).

It doesn’t have to be a treasure island or a pirate hideout — kids just naturally get a thrill from visiting any place that’s surrounded by water, reachable only by bridge or boat or airplane. Here are five islands where my family has had some magical vacations:

1.  The Big Island of Hawaii
Where is it: Pacific Ocean
Why it’s great: Volcanoes, rainforest, and stargazing

A great place to revel in Hawaii’s natural beauty – birdwatch in the misty rainforests of the east coast, horseback ride through upcountry cattlelands, or discover ancient rock art on blasted lava-rock shelves amid the golf resorts of the Kohala Coast. Five volcanoes brood over the island, including the world’s tallest mountain, Mauna Kea — take a trip to the top to see one of the world’s most important observatories — and the world’s largest, Mauna Loa, where you can hike around the smoking craters of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

2.  St. John’s, US Virginia Islands
Where is it: Caribbean Sea
Why it’s great: Snorkeling and steel drum music

A classic Caribbean experience, this tidy U.S. Virgin Island is mostly national park, where your vacation can be as lazy or as active as you please. Hike through jungle-shrouded ruins of sugar plantations, snorkel in the turquoise waters of Trunk Bay, with its fabulous signposted Underwater Trail, or relax at casual open-air restaurants that welcome families to sample West Indian cuisine.

3.  Assateague
Where is it: Barrier island off Virginia’s eastern shore
Why it’s great: Ponies!!

Though it’s only 37 miles long, this marshy, windswept barrier island is one big wildlife refuge, a haven for peregrine falcons, great blue herons, snow geese – and shaggy, sturdy little wild horses, running free through the marshes. Take the causeway over from neighboring Chincoteague (packed with its own Chesapeake charm) to follow the Wildlife Drive loop, winding up at a pristine Atlantic beach.

4.  Venice
Where is it: Northwest Italy, on the Adriatic Sea
Why it’s great: Gondolas and secret passageways

This most magical of Renaissance cities isn’t just one island but 118 separate islands, ingeniously linked by bridges and small boats, a wondrous maze you’ll gladly get lost in. Centuries of art and intrigue have laid a patina of mystery on its crumbling palaces and shadowy churches, but it’s not all dusty antiques by any means. You’ll find a surprise for kids around every twisting corner – a stray cat, a floating flower market, a gelato stand, or a store full of masks and puppets.

5.  Nantucket
Where is it: New England
Why it’s great: Bicycling to the lighthouse

A perfect sand-between-the-toes getaway, just a ferry ride from Cape Cod. On the one hand, there’s the New-Englandy charm of the historic whaling captain’s house in Nantucket town (ice cream cones are a must). On the other, there’s the flat salt-marsh terrain, ideal for cycling out of town to the panoramic Siasconset bluffs or the landmark candy-striped Sankaty lighthouse.

Want to win one of five copies of Frommer’s 500 Extraordinary Islands? Leave a comment here by midnight on March 18, 2010 (U.S. only please).  Good luck!

Pony photo courtesy of judithsweet.   Lighthouse photo courtesy of dbking.

I have a confession to make:  I love books.  Seriously.  I *love* books.  If I have a single vice outside travel, it’s books.  I read about a new novel or non-fiction book on Salon.com or NPR and immediately order it.  I get lost in bookstores – for hours.  I read like it’s going out of style.  My family jokes that I like books better than I like any human person.  They may well be right.

And my love of books transcends the written word.  I love the feel of books – their weight, their smell, the sound heavy-papered pages turning in a good hardback.  Even their physical being entices me in a way I just. can’t. resist.  I might even say they get me a little hot.  We avid readers are weird like that.

So, you know, I wasn’t too keen on the idea of a wireless reading device.  I love books.  BOOKS, darn it!  If I wanted to read on a device, well, I’d just get on my laptop and surf on over to the New York Times website or  Texts from Last Night.

But then I got my hands on a Kindle.  And I find that my life will never be the same.

I’m a bit ashamed to admit I love it.  I do.  I love that it’s small and light and so easy to carry when I’m on the go.  Instead of dragging 3 hardbacks in my carry-on bag, I can now carry 1,500 books on my little Kindle and never run out of reading material on the plane.  I love that I can immediately feed my addiction.  If I read about a book that tempts me (like, for example, hearing all the recent buzz about Rebecca Skloot’s “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks”), I can just turn on my Kindle and have it in seconds as opposed to waiting weeks for my order to appear in the mail.  Sometimes it’s available for the Kindle before it even hits the stores.  And in terms of price?  With costs about half of what you’d find on bookstore shelves, if you are a reading addict like me, the Kindle is very cost effective (outside, you know, of it being so, so easy to order a book on whim).

But one of the best parts of the Kindle for me?  I can order up books for Chet as well.  Instead of having to carry the entire collected works of H.A. Rey to lands unknown, I can download a few books for him to peruse on the plane.  And for older kids, there are literally thousands of children’s chapter books to choose from.  It’s a total win-win.  (Except, of course, they’ll want to hog the Kindle, greedy munchkins that they are).

I still love books.  And I will still buy them – it’s an addiction I have no qualms about feeding.  But for my sordid, somewhat embarrassing reading purchases (Sookie Stackhouse novels, anyone?), magazine subscriptions and for my travel time, I believe I’ll be using the Kindle for a long time to come.  It’s a traveling-Mom-and-avid-reader’s dream come true.

There are days I look at Chet, so close to turning 5, and can’t believe he was once small enough to reside inside my belly.  I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic.  And then there are days, usually when we’re traveling and he’s loudly whining, “Carry me, Mommy!” just as we reach some steep climb that I feel more than nostalgic.  I feel desperate for days long past when I could strap his tiny butt into a Baby Bjorn and go.  Or you know, get his Dad to do it.

This photo of Chet is in Istanbul.  He’s happy as a clam, being carried around the city in that Baby Bjorn.  It’s a classic photo – and one used in an essay I wrote about the magic of traveling with a baby in Istanbul.  But these days, instead of being reminded of why I love to travel with kids, this photo makes me long for days when I wasn’t responsible for carrying a 35+ pound boy and his enormous backpack full of junk up any incline greater than 2 degrees.  And maybe more importantly, given how much has changed in just the past few years, it makes me wonder about what traveling with a surly 14-year-old Chet might be like…Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.