Yes, Dotsie, I think our journey had meaning for my kids on a number of levels beyond the most obvious -- they traveled across America and saw amazing stuff...

At the time of our journey, Adam was 13 and my daughter, Dana was 10. Those were perfect ages for a long trip like this. They were old enough to appreciate most of what they saw and did, old enough to be low maintenance for me, but young enough to still have that open, communicative, emotions-on-the-sleeve mindset that flowers just before life pushes them temporarily into the quieter, tighter, introspective, self-conscious world of full-blown teenagerhood. In short, we had a blast together, and we truly bonded. It was an experience and an opportunity we were truly blessed to have.

On another level, the timing of our trip was important and meaningful. The reason for our journey was to get out into the land after September 11 and make sure that the country was alright. That was the impetus that set our journey in motion. We had a mission: to make sure that America and its people were strong and okay. Well, they were and still are, and my kids saw that first-hand as we traveled the nation and met its people. They came home confident in the fact that despite a horrible and unfortunate change in the way the world works, their country was in the good hands of her millions of proud, positive, hard-working people. They will, I know, always have that knowledge to fall back on, and it will help them navigate the sometimes threatening waters of the world they'll inherit. I remember a day when we cruised a high-altitude ribbon of Wyoming asphalt with a brigade of free-spirited bikers headed for the monster biker rally held each summer in Sturgis, South Dakota. The sky was brilliant blue, and the sun lit up the forest, mountains and chrome rims of the hundred moving motorcycles. John Mellencamp came on the radio wailing "Pink Houses," telling us that 'America was somethin' to see, baby,' and Lynard Skynard belted out "Free Bird." I looked at the kids and said some words about liberty, about being free. They knew what I meant, and they knew it was important. In the book, that moment came out as, "Take that, Osama. You're in a cave, and we're rolling through Wyoming. Plot if you like, but we're moving and doing and smiling at the sound of good rock and roll and the sweet feel of Rocky Mountain breeze lifting our hair and moving coolly over arms. Boundless beauty, freedom, adventure, possibility. These are ours. We're free birds."

The kids' appreciation for the magnitude and wonder of our journey also increased as "Ribbons of Highway" began to take shape. It took me six months to write the book, and Adam and Dana were part of my editorial team. They watched the words unfold and become an organic thing, a flowing record of a journey that they were at the center of. It was a magical process for all of us. When the first galley was delivered to the house, we all held the finished book in wonder. They are as much a part of the book as I am, and it is a gift that we share, something that will always bind us. They are very proud of "Ribbons," and they talk about it a lot -- in school, to their friends and their friends' parents. They're minor celebrities in town because of it, and they understand why people are intrigued or inspired by what they did. They've been asked to sign copies of the book, and I can see them swell with pride whenever that happens.

Two meaningful journeys, then, that my kids and I have shared and continue to share: the physical journey and the journey to give life to "our" book. Incredibly fulfilling and wondrous.