SOUTH DAKOTA, Black Hills and Mount Rushmore with Kids – Southwestern South Dakota is known primarily for one thing, and while you won’t want to miss your chance to see that massive monument carved into the side of a mountain, you may be wondering what else there is to do in the area–especially if you’ll be visiting Mount Rushmore with kids?

With over 5 million acres of hiking and cycling trails, rock climbing, caves, and paleontological sites, you won’t run out of options as you explore nature’s playground on your South Dakota family vacation. In fact, I suggest you begin your vacation planning early and be sure to give yourself plenty of time to enjoy these highlights of a Black Hills family vacation. 

1. Visit the Mount Rushmore National Memorial 

Nearly 3 million tourists visit the Mount Rushmore National Memorial each year, making it South Dakota’s most popular attraction. It’s awe inspiring to view in person, each granite head as tall as a 6-story building, gazing over the Avenue of Flags below. 

But there is more to a visit to this monument than the view. If you’re visiting Mount Rushmore with kids, be sure to pick up your Junior Ranger booklets first. Then begin your tour in the Lincoln Borglum Visitor Center, where the tools used to carve the mountain are displayed. Kids will love the ‘hands on’ cranes and the chance to virtually blow things up.

Then move on to the studio space of Gutzon Borglum, where you can view the scale model of the sculpture while seeing the finished project on the mountain. It’s surreal. Finish your visit with a stroll along the half mile Presidential Trail. Stop often to enjoy the views and the informational plaques that help bring the monument to life. 

Tip: Many tourists rush to visit as the gates open. If your schedule allows plan your visit later in the day and stay for the evening lighting ceremony (during the summer months).

2. Dig the Mammoth Site

The world’s largest Mammoth research facility is just an hour south of Mount Rushmore, yet only a small percentage of visitors to the Black Hills know about The Mammoth Site near Hot Springs. This ongoing archaeological dig has unearthed 61 mammoths so far, and it’s the only place in the world where both Columbian and Woolly Mammoths have been found together. 

Each visit begins with a 30 minute tour. Your guide will ‘introduce’ you to Elvis, Clem, and Beauty, as well as lead you through the geology that created the sinkhole that captured so many mammoths, as well as other Ice Age creatures. After the tour you can wander the site for yourself. Because this is an ongoing dig you’ll see volunteers hard at work with brushes, spray bottles, and tiny picks, slowly unearthing fragments from the dried mud. 

As you leave the dig wander through the Ice Age Exhibit Hall. Replica skeletons of Ice Age animals look miniature next to the full sized mammoth model. One of the most intriguing displays is the mammoth bone hut, a replica of dwellings found in the Ukraine. It may put you in mind of prehistoric Lincoln Logs. A paleontology lab is on site, and the Children’s Room adjacent to the gift shop offers young children a chance to ‘dig’ for fossils and do crayon rubbings. 

Tip: Junior Paleontology programs are available for children 4-12, and advanced programs are offered for kids 10 and up, from Jun 1 thru mid-August. Book this in advance to avoid disappointment.

3. Go Deep in the Caves

Beneath South Dakota’s vast prairie are two of the longest cave systems in the world. 

Jewel Cave National Monument is the third longest cave in the world with over 195 miles of mapped and surveyed passages. Its calcite crystals sparkled like jewels in the lantern light of early explorers, thus giving it its name. Jewel Cave was developed as a tourist attraction before the National Park Service purchased it in 1908.

At Wind Cave National Park your cave tour begins with a 20-story elevator ride straight down. As stairs and pathways wind through caverns 204 feet beneath the earth, visitors are introduced to cave formations with names like boxwork, frostwork, and popcorn. If you’re traveling with small children or have limited abilities, this cave has both easy and moderate tours.  

Guided cave tours are offered daily on a first-come-first-served basis at both sites. Arrive early to book your tour as they often sell out during the summer months. Know that you may have a long wait between your arrival and your tour. 

Tip: Since both of these caves are part of the National Park Service, you can grab your Junior Ranger books and earn your badges during your visit.

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4. Visit All the Animals!

The Black Hills are an incredible spot for animal encounters. Custer State Park is known for their large herd of bison and friendly burros. From the Wildlife Loop Road you may also view big horn sheep, pronghorn, and elk. And, of course, prairie dogs.

If you prefer horses you can visit Windcross Conservancy where they work to preserve the nearly extinct Spanish Mustang or make a reservation for a tour with the Black Hills Wild Horse Sanctuary where the herds run free. You’ll also find plenty of trail riding opportunities across the Black Hills. 

Take a three mile drive through Bear Country USA, a drive-thru wildlife park that has bears, wolves, bobcats, badgers, porcupine, otters, and other animals who roam the Great Plains. 

Tip: The animals look cute and bison look slow but remember these are wild animals and should not be approached.

Best Place for Families to Stay near Mount Rushmore: Covered Wagon Glamping at Rushmore Shadows

Spend your nights in the historic style of the Old West–at least on the outside. On the inside, these custom Conestoga covered wagons feature a king size bed and bunks, with space for a family of 4 or 6. Electricity, heat and air conditioning, and even a coffee pot, offer comforts the pioneers could never have imagined.

Outside your wagon you can enjoy a private campfire, or join the large community fire pit. A private bathhouse in Old West style is completely modern with bathrooms and shower rooms. Families will find plenty of activities at this camping resort including a pool, mini golf, and playground. Click here for more information about Rushmore Shadows and reservations.

Tip: Rushmore Shadows can help you arrange activities including a Hot Dog Roast, Chuckwagon Dinner & Show, and even Old West outfits for picture perfect photos at your covered wagon.

Best Place for families to Eat in the Black Hills: The Hitchrail in Pringle

Don’t let the exterior of this one-time biker bar scare you away. Inside, you’ll find the best food to be had in the Black Hills. Award-winning chef Dennis Boitnott creates his menu from scratch daily based on availability of ingredients, so everything is fresh and local. This isn’t a spot to visit if you’re in a hurry, but it is the perfect place to relax. Take your time and kick back on the patio, and enjoy the flavors of South Dakota. Check the Hitchrail Facebook page for daily specials.

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The post Mount Rushmore with Kids & The Black Hills | South Dakota Family Vacation Guide appeared first on Family Travel 411.

Sitting atop the contiguous United States like a crown, its mountain peaks rising above the fir trees, snow and glaciers sparkling like jewels, Glacier National Park has been a bucket-list destination from the moment it became a National Park in 1910. Covering over a million acres of land, its mountainous surroundings and remote location are both a draw and a deterrent.

The most important factor to your vacation success is to begin planning early (6 months to a year depending on your lodging preferences) and have, at least, a general itinerary to make the most of your vacation to Glacier National park with kids. Here’s how I recommend you begin. This post contains affiliate links.

1. Take a Ride in Red Bus with a Jammer

These iconic red buses have been driving tourists along Going to the Sun Road since 1936 — and yes, these are the original buses, refurbished, of course! Choose the Western Alpine Tour for a relaxing ride up Going to the Sun Road with plenty of photo stops and intriguing storytelling from your Jammer. Be sure to bring a jacket because only the coldest, rainiest weather will cause the roll-back top on the bus to be closed.

Are you wondering why your guide is called a Jammer? It goes way back to when the buses had manual transmissions and the drivers had to ‘jam’ the gears as the bus made its way up the mountains. Find out more: Glacier National Park Red Bus Tours

Tip: Book your Red Bus Tour at least 4 weeks in advance during the busy summer months, and plan the tour for your first day so you have those ‘insider tips’ on places to visit during the rest of your stay.

2. Spend Time On or In Lake McDonald

Walk to the edge of Lake McDonald and look down. The water is so pure and clean that the colored stones in the bottom shine like jewels. Slipping off your shoes you step in, gasping as the frigid water covers your feet and ankles.

Carved by glaciers, and filled with glacier water, Lake McDonald never truly gets warm. But don’t let that stop you from enjoying the largest lake in Glacier National Park. At 10 miles long – and nearly 500 feet deep- there is plenty of space for everyone.

In Apgar Village, on the lake shore, you’ll find Glacier Park Boat Company with kayaks, paddle boards, and canoes for rent. If you want to get out on the lake without the fear of capsizing take a tour on one of the historic wooden boats that leave from Lake McDonald Lodge. Click here to see more fun family activites at Lake McDonald.

Tip: The farther you go from Apgar Village and Lake McDonald Lodge the lighter the crowds. Follow the less-traveled road on the west side of the lake. 

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3. Explore Glacier National Park’s Hiking Trails

Glacier National Park has over 700 miles of hiking trails of varying distance and difficulty. Trail of the Cedars, an accessible trail, is one of the most popular. Combine it with the Avalanche Lake Trail for a 2-3 hour hike.  

For a more challenging hike, use the east entrance of the park to access the Grinnell Glacier Trail. This steep hike does get narrow in spots, but the views overlooking the impossibly blue water of Grinnell Lake are worth every step (see the view in the lead photo for this feature). Find out more: Glacier National Park Hiking Trails

Tip: Be sure to prepare for your hikes. Take water, snacks, and bear spray. Wear sturdy shoes and consider a walking stick for steep terrain. Study the trail maps online to choose the best routes for your family and be sure to check trail status before setting out. 

4. Attend a Ranger-Led Program

No one knows more about the parks than the Park Rangers! During the summer months you’ll find everything from guided walks and boat tours to Native American cultural activities and night time star parties.  

And don’t forget about earning your Junior Ranger Badge! This free program (available at all National Park Service sites) is available for kids up to 13 years of age. Pick up an activity book when you arrive at the park, and return it, completed, before you leave. After raising your right hand and taking  the official park oath you are awarded with an official Glacier Junior Ranger Badge.

Ranger led activity schedules are available about 2 weeks before the start of the following month, so don’t forget to check the website prior to your visit. Find out more: Glacier NP’s Ranger-Led Activities a and (scroll down page) Glacier National Park Junior Ranger Program

Best Place to Stay with Kids in Glacier National Park?

West Glacier KOA – You don’t have to be a camper to love this place! This huge campground is just a couple of miles from the West Glacier entrance and has everything you need for a fabulous stay in Glacier National Park with kids.

Campers will like the spacious, well maintained pull-through sites while non-campers will love the deluxe cabins with kitchen and bathroom. Two pools (one is adults only) are available and free evening entertainment includes birds of prey demonstrations and magic shows.   

Don’t want to cook? Both breakfast and dinner are available at the campground. You can even get an afternoon treat at Scoops Ice Cream Shop or a little pick-me-up at Lazy Bear Espresso. 

Tip: Book campsites 4-6 months in advance. Cabins should be booked at least 6 months in advance, more if possible. 

Best Place to Eat (Dessert) with Kids in Glacier National Park: Eddie’s Cafe

For such a popular destination there really aren’t a lot of dining options in and around Glacier National Park, and those that are there are, overall, quite forgettable. But what you won’t forget are the huckleberries.

You’ll find everything huckleberry, from candy to beverages to desserts. And the best place to go for these is Eddie’s Café in Apgar Village. You may have to wait for a table at this popular spot, but it is worth it for the warm huckleberry cobbler topped with vanilla ice cream. Get a few spoons and share. 

Tip: If you don’t want to wait for a table, line up outside at the ice cream shop for a scoop of Huckleberry Ice Cream and enjoy it as you wander down to Lake McDonald. 

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The post Glacier National Park with Kids | Montana Family Vacation Guide appeared first on Family Travel 411.

Yosemite is just a few hours’ drive from the Bay Area, so it may be tempting to add a few days to your San Francisco itinerary to go visit the park (or make a side trip to San Francisco if you’re already planning a Yosemite family vacation).

Living in such close proximity to Yosemite ourselves, our family has been so lucky to visit nearly every year since we became parents, and it’s been a treat not only to see the park in different seasons but to see the different “seasons” of our kids unfold as we return to the park through the years.

If you get the chance to check Yosemite off your family’s National Park bucket list, here are some of our favorite ways we’ve found to experience Yosemite National Park with kids.

–> And don’t forget, if you have a fourth-grader with you the whole family gets into the park free (details on getting and using the Every Kid Outdoors Pass in this post)!

1. Bike Yosemite Valley

From the time your baby is big enough to ride in a baby seat on the bike or get towed along behind in a trailer, riding bikes is one of the most pleasant ways we know to take in Yosemite Valley. Paved, relatively easy pathways follow along the scenic Merced River and criss-cross at occasional bridges, all the while offering beautiful views of the towering natural landmarks around you and the beauty that fills in between them below.

We love packing a picnic and staking out a lovely beach spot beside the river for a lunch break, plus you can also plan to stop at Yosemite Village or Half Dome Village for ice cream. If bringing your bikes from home doesn’t work, bicycle rentals are available at Yosemite Village, including bikes with kiddie trailers, kid-size bikes, ADA bikes, and helmets for the whole family.

Bike racks are found nearly everywhere you’d want them throughout the valley, including at restrooms, just don’t forget your bike locks at home.

2. Boulder Your way to Mirror Lake

You don’t need bikes to enjoy the route from the The Majestic Yosemite Hotel (formerly The Ahwahnee) to Mirror Lake. In fact, ours often get ditched along the way in favor of scrambling on foot and climbing on the many mind-boggling boulders you’ll find along the way. This natural playground is a kid-climber’s paradise, and even includes a long corridor where the non-claustrophobic can pass through a fissure between giant geologic slabs.

For best results, follow the hiking (not biking) path to the left as you head toward Mirror Lake (2 miles or 3.2 km round trip if you back track from the lake, 5 miles or 8  km if you do the loop trail).  If you’re lucky, you may just find your way to the legendary Indian Caves hidden (and unmarked) among the biggest boulders.

Tips: In summer weather, bring at least one towel to share as the calm pool that is Mirror Lake can be an ideal, calm swimming hole for kids. It shrinks as summer progresses and by autumn it is often a dry sand pit, so how much time you may want to spend once there can vary by season. There are no concessions at Mirror Lake, just vault toilets and bike racks, so bring a day pack with plenty of snacks and, as always, water.

3. Hike the dome—Sentinel Dome that is!

The Sentinel Dome hike is best combined with the trip out to see Yosemite’s Glacier Point. The hike from “Sentinel Dome Parking” to the top of the dome is only 2.2 miles round trip (3.5 km), but it will likely feel like much more before you are through. Remember, you’re starting at 7,700 feet (2,345 meters), which is a respectable altitude (especially for those of us living at sea level) and will end with a very steep finale up to 8,100 feet (2,470 meters).

However, the pay-off of a 360-degree view over Yosemite National Park makes kid and parent hiker alike feel rightfully victorious (bring candy bars or cookies to celebrate as you take in the view–and take a breather). This is one “short hike” your school-age kids are not likely to forget!

The final ascent of the dome is so steep that you’ll likely find yourself on hands and knees for parts of it, though the wide-sloping surface doesn’t feel precarious like a trail with a drop-off beside it might (don’t attempt in wet weather, however; the most well-worn areas of smooth granite can be slick even when dry).

Bring plenty of water on the trail with you, and I recommend sun glasses for everyone in addition to sun hats as the granite surfaces are extremely bright when blessed with sunshine–and don’t forget the camera! This is a great place to capture a snapshot of your Yosemite family vacation.

4. Visit the Giants

Especially for kids having little experience with earth’s largest living organisms (not blue whales but trees!), the giants dwelling in Yosemite are not to be missed. For spectacular sequoia sightings, you have three good options here.

First, the Tuolumne Grove which is accessed by a relaxed 2.5-mile round trip hike (4 km) at the west end of the park by Highway 120. For a little more of a hike (3 miles round trip or 4.8 km), you can visit the slightly less-crowded and even farther west Merced Grove (though there is less parking, too).

However, each of these groves has only about two dozen giants left standing, while Yosemite’s Mariposa Grove boasts a whopping 500 giant sequoias, including the beefy Grizzly Giant. (Note: After restoration work, The Mariposa Grove once again welcomes visitors.)

You might also be interested in my features The 5 Best Places to Visit California’s Redwoods and Giant Sequoias and Five Places to Get Up Close to California’s Redwood Trees.

1 Great Place to Stay in Yosemite: Yosemite Valley Lodge

Over the years, we’ve stayed many places in and just outside of Yosemite, from our own tent and Curry Village tent cabins (now called Half Dome Village) to the historic Wawona (now not historically called Big Trees Lodge) and Evergreen Lodge–and the four-diamond Tenaya Lodge.

But when asked where I’d recommend a family stay for a first-time visit to Yosemite National Park with Kids, I usually recommend the Yosemite Valley Lodge. Because of its location smack dab in the heart of the valley, you can wake up where you most want to be–with your bikes (or bike rentals) just outside your door and those bike baths beckoning.

For further exploration of the park, you are also right at the hub of Yosemite’s shuttle buses (free!) which can save you serious parking headaches at the most popular points of interest, especially in Yosemite’s high seasons.

Plus, the river is just a stone’s throw away for skipping stones or counting dragonflies at dusk, and the cafeteria is just across the road for easy meals and take-away options.

1 Great Place to Eat in Yosemite: Yosemite Valley Food Court

In Yosemite, you’ll find everything from hot dogs at Curry Village to Five-Star dining at the Ahwanee. But when you aim to cover a lot of ground in the park, making a lunch stop at the Yosemite Valley Food Court can make a whole lot of sense. Especially if you need to avoid storing food and/or an ice chest in your car throughout the day per park rules.

You’ll find options to suit just about everyone in the family, from fresh-baked pizzas and homemade hot fare to simple deli pre-mades, fruit cups, and salads. Plus, you can also grab some extra sandwiches, wraps, or drinks to load up into the day pack for your afternoon excursion.

It’s centrally located within the park, too, and if you’ll be using the free park shuttles, they stop just outside. And for the jet-lagged travelers with kids, they’re open at 6:30 a.m. (with good coffee) and don’t close until 8:00 p.m. (You can see why it’s a popular stop for many undertaking a Yosemite family vacation!)

Map of Our Yosemite with Kids Recommendations:

Yosemite Spring and Summer 2023 updates:

Great news! Reservations will no longer be required to visit Yosemite National Park in spring or summer of 2023! Note: Glacier Point Road is closed through May 2023. Check here for the latest updates about the visiting Yosemite.

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The post Yosemite National Park with Kids | California Family Vacation Guide appeared first on Family Travel 411.

My daughter, still confused by the breach in safety protocol, shoots me a worried look—her safety belt will not budge. Captain Cliff’s seat swivels around as he reaches out toward my firstborn, jabbing a calloused thumb into the stubborn square at the center of her abdomen. He rises from his seat to get a good look at each of us, making sure that no one in the swamp buggy is actually buckled to it.

“Now look,” he explains, “If there’s some kind of emergency comes up,” bronze arms rise like exclamation points protruding from camouflage, “if this here buggy catches fire or something, I want to be able to get you guys off of here quick!”

I peer down from my seat on the back row bench guessing the floor of the buggy is at least as far above the ground as I am tall—and, I imagine, with good reason.

Cliff sinks back into the driver’s seat and hollers, “You guys ready for this?”

My husband’s arms extend protectively around our three children seated at his sides. With a couple of spats and a chug we lurch forward toward the road that will take us from our rendezvous point into the heart of Big Cypress National Preserve. We’ve already driven a slow seven miles of dirt road on our own, along which the only other souls we saw were our first night heron (as confirmed by our laminated Birds of Coastal South Florida guide), alligators number seven and eight, and an unidentified serpent slithering over the road as my foot leapt from the gas pedal.

The swamp buggy crosses half-way over a canal, but then slows to stop. For some reason, the engine shuts off.

Cliff turns and asks quietly, “So where’d you say you’re from?”

“San Francisco,” the kids whisper back.

“San Francisco?” he asks in a hush. “And have you seen any alligators yet on your trip to Florida?”

“NINE!” they shout back, suddenly pointing to the water beside us. My son climbs onto his sisters for a better view.

“Good,” Cliff grins. In a courteous, quiet voice apparently reserved for large reptiles he explains, “Now there is your American alligator.” He walks toward the side of the swamp buggy and whispers, “Come on closer, you don’t have to stay in your seats.”

We gather at the railing, gazing down at the glistening crags of the foreboding island below. The children’s faces are alight.

“Now who can tell me the differences between an alligator and a crocodile?”

It’s as if they’ve been waiting for someone to ask them this all their lives. Cliff nods, surprised but pleased, as the three siblings quickly exhaust the list. “That’s pretty good,” he grins. “But do you know how you can measure an alligator when all you can see are the bumps of his eyes and nose sticking up from the water?” They fall silent as he explains.

I give my husband a quick wink and he grins back in one of those rare moments when two parents feel they’ve done something very right by their children. A sigh of relief escapes me as I remember an awkward conversation with a friend just weeks earlier.

“So, let me get this straight. You’re flying your whole family all the way to Florida and you’re not taking your kids to Disney World?”

“Nope,” I offered with all the confidence I could muster. “I want to show them real Florida.”

“And you don’t think they’re going to hold this against you—for the rest of their lives?”

There was laughter, including my own. But secretly, I still worried about the final outcome of our trip, particularly this 3-hour “swamp buggy tour” of Big Cypress National Preserve, the unsung neighbor of the Everglades. It might be everything my budding wildlife biologist and survival enthusiast children could hope for. Yet I knew in my gut the excursion still had potential for disaster.

Three hours riding in the swampland’s answer to a tundra buggy—without the polar bears? Would it just be too long? Too boring? Too hot? Or worse: Too buggy? And, as I’d confirmed by phone when making our non-refundable booking for five, with only a bucket for a bathroom?

“Now, so far, the alligators you’ve seen out there along the highway and canals are either the females or the juvenile males. This here is a small female.” In the surprisingly clear water, she almost appears to float on air. A school of fish encircles her motionless snout, oblivious to the proximity of their demise. “The giant breeder males,” Cliff continues, “are over on this side,” he gestures to the road ahead of us.

“Giant breeder males?” I test the words aloud, stifling a laugh.

“Yes ma’am.” He adjusts his cap. “Hopefully we’ll get to see one today.”

With a spat-chug-spat, the swamp buggy engine fires up and we roll on past the canal, past the sign reading PERMIT REQUIRED, as Cliff tells us how the alligators we’ve already viewed from the platforms at the Everglades and Big Cypress Visitors Centers, and along the Tamiami Trail, were nowhere near the size of the ‘giant breeder males’ who would fight to the death—and even eat—any other male who came near him or the gator hole he currently occupied. And it’s these wet depressions, made deeper and wider by their resident gators, that give rise to the cypress domes, “Like that one there.” He points across a sweep of prairie grass to where a group of trees arcs against the Florida sky, the tallest trees growing at the center where the deepest water lies.

“These giant breeder males,” he slows the buggy and turns to extend an illustrative arm, “are often around 15 feet long and sometimes bigger.” Cliff resumes swamp buggy cruise speed to somewhere around 10 miles per hour and grins over his shoulder at us, “You haven’t seen one that big yet, have you?”

I try to imagine a one-and-a-half story house turned on its side—with teeth and a tail. “Definitely not!” I shout from the back row bench.

Trees begin closing in on both sides of the buggy and ping-ping-pinging against the soldered pipes at our sides as we lean in to avoid the occasional whap of a too-long branch. Cypress boughs drag over our roof of camouflage tarp and flop down behind us as we pass through what feels like an arboreal car wash.

There are two types of cypress trees in Big Cypress National Preserve, Cliff points out, and we’ve arrived at a convergence of both. He shuts the engine off and reaches out past the railing to break off a sprig of each. His driver’s seat swivels toward us once again and he shows us the difference between the wild tangle of deep green pond cypress needles and the neat and orderly fine needles of the key lime-colored bald cypress. The pond cypress is evergreen. But each winter the bald cypress sloughs off its needles.

Cliff rises from his seat again and walks to the front corner of the swamp buggy where he snaps off a leafy twig, then ceremoniously smashes the leaves between his fingers. He holds fingers and leaf bits up to the kids: “Smell this.” The kids lean in eagerly. “What does that smell like to you?”

The kids shrug as he tears a few leaves from the twig and lets them each hold their own. “That there is a natural insect repellent.  So say you were out here when there’s more water on the ground like there is most of the year—not like this—and the bugs’re likely to make you crazy, you could smash some of these leaves and rub them on you.” He nods, “Problem solved.”

The kids tear at their leaves, rubbing them with great fervor against their necks and cheeks and the backs of their hands, the only parts left exposed beyond the insect-repellent-treated clothing I’d insisted they wear for the day.

“That’s how the Indians could survive out here when just about nobody else could.”

The kids stare off between the trees a moment, as if expecting a tribe of Seminole or Miccosukee to suddenly materialize.

“So kids, do you know what the deadliest animal in the world is?”

The kids nod and shout, “Mosquitoes!”

Cliff grins and adjusts his cap, “That’s right—and they’ve sure got plenty of them out here.”

The children nod back in silence and continue staring out at the wilderness surrounding us. Not a building, not even a telephone pole is in sight.

“Now the other thing you can do with wax myrtle,” he begins stripping back the thin bark of his twig, “is to brush your teeth.” He rubs the thin white stick against a crack in his smile to demonstrate.

As the sun rises higher, the parched surface of the road becomes a near-blinding white. It’s a strange road–not exactly dirt, and though gravely in places, not gravel. To our left, a field of prairie grass and pine trees has Cliff’s full attention, and he slows to point to a mother deer and two fawns watching us roll by. A little farther down the road he stops.

“So, you know about the cypress domes now, but what we’ve also got out here in Big Cypress are the hammocks.”

“Hammocks?” the kids laugh.

“I love hammocks!” my younger daughter exclaims.

Cliff points to a pine hammock in the distance, the opposite of a cypress dome. He explains how a hammock is a raised area that continues to build on itself as debris from a group of trees collect beneath them. Over time it makes a small hill, and in the swampiest months of May through December, the island-like hammocks are an important last retreat for the land mammals. Naturally, this captive supply of fauna also makes the pine and hardwood hammocks all the more attractive to south Florida’s invading Burmese python—the population now thought to be around 100,000 between the Everglades and Big Cypress.

“Trouble is,” Cliff explains, “the pythons don’t have any natural predators here,” the exception being an occasional giant breeder male alligator, he is sure to point out.

Otherwise, the American alligators don’t seem to be making a dent in the Burmese python population boom, and even a 30-hour duel documented by wildlife researchers between a 13-foot python and a 6-foot alligator ended in a draw. Though the python managed to finally swallow the exhausted alligator whole, as is its custom with prey, the alligator’s feet eventually broke through the python’s sides in protest. In the end, neither side lived to tell the tale.

Cliff points to a tall, dead tree at the center of the hammock, much taller than the others around it. He explains that the tallest pine trees are easy targets for lightening, and when they’re struck, the sap inside transforms into a highly flammable resin. “Lighter pine,” Cliff digs into his pocket and removes a splinter of wood, “is bug-proof.” While early Florida developers were anxious to harvest and build pest-proof houses with this  valuable lumber, they soon realized the folly of their ways. Lighter pine, sometimes called fatwood, ignites more easily and burns more intensely than regular wood–even when wet. When a pest-proof house caught fire, there was no way of putting it out.

Cliff explains that’s why lighter pine is the best campfire starter around, and any self-respecting survivalist would not leave home without a small piece. He pulls a cigarette lighter from the same pocket, “Even if you got lost out here in a storm, you could still make a fire with some of this,” the splinter flashes into flame as the kids sit up, startled but intrigued. “That’s lighter pine.”

The road becomes a strange mishmash of earthen blobs and chalk-like rocks. Palm trees appear, both short and tall, and there’s a sudden flash of scarlet among a new stand of bald cypress. Cliff shuts the engine off and turns to us. “What do you hear?”

We sit there a moment, the five of us looking at each other, then looking at Cliff.

It is ominously quiet. For a 720,000-acre preserve populated by wood stork, egrets, anhingas, ibis, assorted raptors, and several types of heron, you’d think at least one of them would have something to say.

“The wind?” my youngest daughter asks.

But there isn’t any wind, no breeze to be had in the heat. No leaves rustling. No branches creaking. It’s as if even the trees are holding their breath for some reason.

Cliff nods with a sudden grin and whispers, “Nothing.” He cackles, “I get some people out here from big cities and it’s the first time they’ve ever heard ‘nothing’ in their lives!” He steps toward the side of the swamp buggy and points to a cypress trunk beside us. “Now who can—”

“Epiphytes!” shout the kids.

“Good,” he nods at the kids.

“Is it a bromeliad?” I ask.

“And, good!” he nods at me. “Yes, those there are air plants.” And they’re suddenly on every cypress tree I can see—clumps of spikey leaves stuck to the crags and cracks of tree trunks like questionably placed bird nests. Cliff points out a dainty orchid also living on the tree nearest us–

“Orchids? Out here?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He explains that more than thirty types of orchids can be found in Big Cypress National Preserve, and proceeds to point out three we can see just from our current vantage point on the swamp buggy: two growing on trees and the third growing on the ground.

“Well, how about that…” Cliff leans over the rail of the swamp buggy. “Come take a look,” he whispers, the kids already ejecting from their bench. “Do you see it there?” He points.

Before I can get to the rail to look over, my husband whispers, “A track!” Just to the side of the road, where the ground is lower, softer, and still moist in spite of the heat, we see the traces of thick-toed pads from what could only be—

“A panther!” the kids squeal. They spot a companion track near it, just where the grass begins to thicken.

I squint toward the trees that the tracks point toward, but see nothing but cypress and bromeliad.

Cliff retrieves a long walking stick from the edge of the swamp buggy, which, when fully upright, is even taller than him. “You want to get down and take a closer look?”

Before I can absorb the fact that he is serious, the kids are scurrying down the ladder behind him and leaping from its last rung. My husband wastes no time following.

Surely no panther in its right mind would stick around here with the noise of the swamp buggy coming through. “Surely  not,” I say aloud, gripping the rails of the ladder down. But still, how recently might that panther—or any one of the 36 known to live within Big Cypress National Preserve—have passed through here? There are reasons we are riding in a swamp buggy, I want to remind the co-creator of my petite offspring. And so far, water on the road is not one of them.

By the time I reach the ground, they’ve also spotted the smaller tracks of a bobcat in the mud, but they pale next to the magnificence of the large cat tracks before us. Just as I’m thinking it’s a good time to get back up the ladder and make sure the engine still starts, Cliff offers, “Now, if you want to, we can make a cast of it.”

The kids blink.

“You know, a plaster cast? You can take it home and show your friends what a real Florida panther track looks like.”

“YEAH!” the kids gasp.

“Cool,” their dad grins.

“Well, okay!” their mom shouts loud enough to startle any wildlife within earshot.

Back up on the buggy, Cliff opens a bucket—the bucket I’d assumed was our emergency toilet—and produces a small mixing bowl, an old coffee can, and a spoon. “You guys ready for some water?” He flips open the ice chest and passes down water bottles for each of us as he cracks an extra open adds it to the mixing bowl. It’s already hot enough that we’re as tempted to guzzle the water as we are to dump it over our heads.

The kids crouch down to watch as Cliff meticulously fills the panther tracks with the batter-like plaster of Paris. We retreat to what little shade there is at the side of the buggy, the kids panting next to its tractor tires that are nearly the height of my son. Cliff finishes off a water bottle, then holds it up for all to see. “Do you know why they make water bottles like this?” he rubs a finger down the bumpy side of the plastic bottle. In one swift motion, the plastic bottle flattens between his hands, folding compactly at the ridges in the exhalation of an accordion. “That’s so it doesn’t take up so much room in the trash.”

I flinch a moment, expecting the kids to tell him he means “recycling,” but they are too busy finishing their waters so that they can smash their own bottles, too. Then I remember what I learned at our motel—the curbside recycling we take for granted at home still has not come to most parts of south Florida.

“Hey, you kids see that rock right over there?” Cliff points to a chalky white rock at the edge of the chalky white dirt road we stand on. “Go get a good look at it and tell me what you see.”

The kids scurry after the rock as I search my memory for what I may have learned about any dangerous insects in Big Cypress.

“Go on, pick it up.” The kids turn the rock over and stare a moment, “You see anything?”

They stare intensely until my eldest daughter looks up. “It looks like a seashell!”

Though we stand many miles from the Gulf and even farther from the Atlantic, Cliff explains, that wasn’t always the case. Words like “sandy limestone,” “cap rock,” and “Pleistocene era” spin around us as we leap to the realization that, yes, the kids are holding a prehistoric fossil in their hands.

“Ohmygosh, ohmygosh,” the big sister repeats.

“Can we take it home?” the little sister begs.

“I’m pretty sure that if we’re not supposed to take pine cones home from national parks, ancient fossils are off limits, too,” I sigh. “But we can definitely take a picture.” I zoom in  and snap the photograph. “So…” I hesitate a moment, “Cliff, how did you know there was going to be a fossil under that rock?”

He shrugs, “Easy guess, ma’am. They’re in most of these rocks out here.”

With that, the kids disperse and begin picking up every sandy limestone rock they can see along the sides of the road. Sure enough,

“Another fossil!”

“I found one, too!”

“Get a picture of this one, Mom!”

“Now stay together guys—and close to us!” I insist, reminding them of the panther and bobcat tracks.

Without being 100% certain our plaster casts are ready, no one’s willing to risk moving them. So we decide to move along and vow that we will not forget to stop and get them on the way back. With only two swamp buggies allowed at one time in this part of the preserve, and no sign of any other going out that morning, our plaster paws seem ominously safe.

Cliff starts the buggy, but after a chug and a chug and a spat it stops. “We’ll just give it a second here…” he clears his throat.

There it is again: nothing. I look at the road stretching back behind us, curving like a stream through the bald cypress. I realize I have no idea how many miles we’ve traveled since starting the journey in the swamp buggy.

I peel back the children’s sun hats, “You can let a little steam out now—we’ve got shade,” I glance up at the camouflage tarp, silently hoping circumstances won’t force us out from beneath its protective cover. “So about how deep does the water get in this part?” I ask.

“About one to two feet along here.” Cliff points to some bald cypress trees near the edge of the road. “You see those funny-looking roots by the trees?” Knobby roots flank the cypress, not growing down but rising up from the ground as if in defiance. “They call those tree knees. They grow like that so they can still get air even when the ground is covered in water.”

“Kind of like snorkels for trees?” I laugh.

“That’s right.”

Cliff turns the ignition again and with a chug and a chug and a spat the motor turns over and we lurch forward, rolling on through the bald cypress as they open up to another sweep of prairie grass. Gradually, a group of pond cypress comes into view.

Cliff shuts off the engine and reaches down for his stick. “You guys ready to go for a walk?”

My tribe hurries down the ladder behind him as I take a long drink of water, and then take a good long look around us. “Now be very quiet,” he whispers, “’cause you never know what you might get to see.”

His words in no way speed my descent. But the others are suddenly following him down a faint trail through dry prairie grass toward a forest of pond cypress. As I hurry to catch up, the ground beneath our feet gets softer and finally turns to mud.

Soon the wide-hipped cypress surround us and we’ve entered into a Seuss-like forest, where the trees appear animated enough to wobble off of their own free will. Bromeliads spike from them like scattered pom-poms sprouting scarlet tongues.

As we arrive at a small clearing among the trees, Cliff asks, “So what would you do if you found yourself lost out here in this heat—without an ice chest full of water bottles?” He nods, “Or a cellphone?” He grins, “Hell, they don’t work out here anyway.”

We look around us and can only shrug.

“Panic?” I offer.

“Climb a tree?” my eldest daughter asks.

“Lighter pine!” whispers my son.

“Watch this.” Cliff carefully inserts the end of his walking stick into the mud between us. He pushes and turns in a corkscrew motion until much of it has disappeared into the ground. With a quick pull up he releases the stick and points down, “There. You see that? Some of the cleanest, purist water in Florida—and it’s all just a little ways beneath our feet.”

The surface of the small hole glistens.

“Don’t forget that if you ever get lost out here in Big Cypress now, all right?” he taps my son’s shoulder.

“Okay,” he nods, still absorbing this significant survival tip.

As we walk deeper into the pond cypress, their ample bases grow wider still. I want to ask if we’re in a “dome,” but I’m not sure I like the reptilian implications of that terminology. Cliff stops suddenly and raises a finger, pointing through the trees.

Between layers of cypress and bromeliad, we see a deer, her gaze fixed upon us. A moment later, she turns and walks calmly away as if humans poking around the pond cypress are the least of her concerns.

Cliff reaches out to an eye-level epiphyte. “Watch,” he whispers. With a gentle pinch, he releases a cottony fuzz and sends it adrift with his breath. “Those are the seeds,” he whispers. “They travel on the breeze until they stick against the bark of another tree.”

We watch, giddy, as the seeds drift like tiny fairies through the air of this strange and wonder-filled world we’ve wandered into.

“Watch yourself there son,” Cliff inserts his walking stick between my son’s heels and the decaying gnarls of pond cypress knees behind him. We lean in for a close look as Cliff explains, “That’s where the snakes like to be.”

I scoop up my son in my arms and offer to carry him the rest of the way through the mud, but he will not have it. After all, he’s in kindergarten now, at the same school as his sisters.

“Well look here,” Cliff raises the walking stick and points just off to the side of us. “You see that track there?”

I quickly survey the distance to the swamp buggy—but I can no longer see it through the cypress trees.

“Right…there…” his walking stick makes a slow and graceful squiggle in the air, mimicking the serpentine smears on the wet earth below.

“A snake?” my husband asks not quietly.

“Yes, sir,” Cliff nods as if he expects we’ll find it as interesting as we did the panther tracks.

“Whoah,” a child whispers.

The impression in the mud is at least as wide as my arm.

“I think the kids are getting hungry,” I smile.

“Oh, sure,” he offers apologetically, “You guys ready for your lunch?”

Back in the elevated safety of the swamp buggy, we devour our peanut butter sandwiches, crunch away at our crisp apples, and dive into the party-size bag of of potato chips we’d packed along for our picnic. I can’t be sure if we are truly ravenous or just glad to be alive.

Cliff points over at a grouping of palm trees, “You see those there?”

Through a collective crunching: “Yeah.”

“That’s the sabal palm tree—the state tree of Florida.”

“Sabal?” I repeat, relieved to take up the topic of flora rather than fauna in the preserve.

“So the black bear…” he holds out a level tan hand toward the trees, “just love to climb up and, well, they smash up the top of the palm and rip out and eat the heart of the tree. Unfortunately, it kills the tree.”

I swallow my last bite of sandwich. “Bears?” Somehow, besides south Florida’s native panthers, alligators, crocodiles, and four species of venomous snakes, it had escaped me that bears also called the region home.

“Yes, ma’am. They can get up to about 8 feet tall out here. Anyway, when you see a sabal palm tree like that and one of them has the top all smashed in, you know that a bear’s climbed up there and enjoyed himself a good meal.” Cliff smiles and takes a last bite from his own sandwich.

Bears.

I take a napkin to the peanut butter smear across my son’s cheek.

“The nice thing about it though,” he explains, “is how they all help each other. The deer, which eat the—you know, kids?”

“Prairie grass and stuff?”

“That’s right.” He nods. “And who eats the deer?”

I flinch.

“The panther!”

“Yes, indeed.” He smiles. “And who cleans up when the panther can’t finish his meal?”

I smile, “The bear, of course.”

Cliff turns the swamp buggy around and we begin back down the same road in anticipation of our plaster cast panther tracks. But the mid-day heat is stifling. And the late night of jetlag-fueled visiting in our motel room–and early morning to follow–seem to be catching up with us as the swamp buggy hums and lulls us into a post-lunch coma.

Cliff slows the buggy and points to a “panther scratch” in the middle of the road. He explains how the panthers kick back a pile of tree needles and dirt, and then urinate on top to leave as a calling card.

“Was that there when we came out this morning?” I ask.

Cliff shrugs. “I don’t think so.”

We roll on past pines, then bald cypress, and I make note of a sabal palm tree–not smashed. In a shady patch, the buggy stops. “I have one more thing to show you,” Cliff grins as he picks up his walking stick.

My son sighs, collapsed over the near-empty sack of potato chips, his eyes half shut. “Can I just stay here?”

“What is it?” I ask Cliff.

“A giant breeder male.”

“Yes you can,” I answer my son. “He can wait here, can’t he?” I look around the buggy for signs of panthers or their clean-up crew.

“Sure, we’re not going  too far.”

Just steps from the road, the mud deepens, sklooshing out around our shoes and threatening to hold one captive at any step. We’ve been instructed not to speak, but to watch Cliff’s hand signals for cues. I try to imagine how we will get a look at this giant breeder male without any viewing platforms, without any paths or fences, and without accidentally crossing paths with it. Cliff leads us deeper between the trees, a firm grip on his walking stick.

We’re already farther from the swamp buggy than I’d imagined we might go. I look back through the trees but can no longer see it, nor the blond little boy we left on it alone with a sack of potato chips.

The trees part and open up onto a pond draped over by shrubs and hemmed in by cattails. Cliff stops and we freeze behind him, our daughters bookended by parents who suddenly wonder what they’ve gotten their children–and themselves–into.

Cliff motions for us to stay back as he steps closer toward the water, scanning every bit of the pond he can see for signs of an enormous alligator. He steps back toward us, whispering, that he’d seen it in the same place twice already, but he’s not there now.

I look around us nervously, “So should we go?!”

He  shakes his head and again motions for us to stay put while he ventures toward the water. He slowly inserts his walking stick into the pond and with a slow, rhythmic motion, he traces a silent invitation.

To our relief, there is no reply.

After a moment, he traces a different message, one with more of a rocking motion, side to side, and I remind myself to breathe.

We wait in silence, and he tries again, but nothing stirs in the pool except Cliff.

At last he turns toward us, clearly disappointed.

“That’s okay, I whisper,” ready to high-tail it back to the swamp buggy. “We’ve seen a lot out here today!”

He turns back a moment as if reconsidering the pond.

“And we still have to get our casts of the panther tracks!”

As we walk back through the trees, I pause a moment, seeing odd scratch-like markings in the mud and, in between them, a long sort of smear. “Is this some kind of track?” I ask, not certain if I should have whispered or yelled.

Cliff confirms it’s the marks from an alligator leaving the pond and, I note, traveling in the general direction of our swamp buggy.

“The giant breeder male?”

He gives a half-smile and shakes his head with a confident no. “Too small.”

Back at our rendezvous point, with plaster casts in hand, we bid our farewells to Cliff, who suddenly leans down toward the kids. “Did you learn anything out here today?”

“Yes!” they agree.

He smiles. “You know, every day, people drive by on the highway and look over here at the hammocks and the cypress domes thinking it’s scary. But now you’ve been out here, you’ve seen it for yourselves up close. And now you know it’s not so scary, now is it?”

The kids nod enthusiastically, “Nope!”

I just take a deep breath and smile, and I thank Cliff for the incredible day our family will never forget.

But as I walk back toward the rental car, I suddenly find myself wondering. After spending the better part of four hours feeling nervous about our surroundings, was it Big Cypress that I found so scary? Or was it the fears that I’d brought there with me? It took a swamp buggy–or the idea of one–to get us out into it, but did it take the swamp buggy to actually keep us safe once we were there? Clearly, we were in the habitat of creatures that had the potential to do us much harm, yet there wasn’t one that took any interest in our passing through or our presence–not even when we trod in their own footsteps.

I notice my firstborn lagging behind us, staring at the plaster cast in her hands. As I walk back toward her, she looks up at me and beams, “It’s real.“

I laugh softly, “That’s not real.”

“No, but the panther is.”

I may go down in history as the mom who never took her kids to Disney World, but I can live with that. Instead of the Magic Kingdom, we saw Florida’s magical kingdom. And instead of mouse ears, we returned home with a greater treasure by far: the tracks of a real Florida panther–and the story of the day our family found them.

See Full Photo Gallery (digital downloads available) –>

If You Go:

We not only highly recommend our outfitter for this trip, Captain Steve’s Swamp Buggy and Airboat Adventures (paid for on our own dime), but so does National Geographic! Call them to book your reservation and tell them Family Travel 411 inspired you.

On the web: Captain Steve’s Swamp Buggy Adventures

Toll free: 1-877 -871-5386

Get more information about Big Cypress National Preserve and tips for planning your visit at https://www.nps.gov/bicy/index.htm.

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Slide Show with Additional Photos from our Visit to Big Cypress

The post Swamp Buggy: A Tale of Family Adventure in Big Cypress National Preserve appeared first on Family Travel 411.

UTAH, Zion National Park with Kids – Science lessons on geology, weathering, and erosion are one thing, but seeing the red rocks and stacked layers of sandstone in person at Zion National Park takes science to new heights.

Located in Southwestern Utah near the town of Springdale, many families travel to Zion National Park as part of a wider road trip including Utah’s Mighty Five parks or the Grand Canyon. Wanting to see it all can be alluring, but you need several days (if not longer) to appreciate Zion National Park with kids, and to fully experience the canyons created by the powerful Virgin River.

This 229-square mile park is a dream for hiking families and outdoor enthusiasts. Hiking trails range from easy to extreme and the diversity of activities will appeal to everyone in the group if nothing else for the bragging rights that come from trekking the most popular trails.

Even better for families, Zion is easily accessible from Las Vegas (just a two-hour drive) and although the elevation definitely is higher than sea level – it is unlikely that you’ll feel the effects of altitude or need time to acclimatize.

Although there are 18 marked trails (and an unlimited amount of wilderness trail areas) to explore, here are four family-friendly activities, plus one great place to stay and one great place to eat while visiting Zion National Park with kids.

1. Challenge Yourself with a Canyoneering Adventure Day

We are fans of trying new adventures both when we travel and at home. And Zion National Park is the perfect location to learn something new and push yourself beyond your comfort level with canyoneering and rock climbing. We chose to reserve a full day family canyoneering adventure day with Zion Adventure Company. Rappelling, rock scrambling, stemming through narrow canyon walls. You name it, we did it.

Our guide led our private party of two (Zion Adventure Company strives to provide private experiences for families whenever possible) through two secluded canyons outside of the national park. Best of all, the day fostered trust and communication between my daughter and I as we learned to be “on belay” and ask each other for assistance when needed.

And when my tween daughter got nervous as I descended down a 60-foot rappel? Our guide reassured her and hooked her to him for a tandem rappel that she still talks about. Website: www.zionadventures.com

2. Reach New Heights at Angel’s Landing

Angel’s Landing offers a hiking experience unlike many other trails and ranks among the most famous of Zion National Park “must do’s.” While this intense but visually and physically rewarding hike (you’ll climb to just under 1,500 feet from the canyon floor) is not advisable for anyone who is afraid of heights, it is accessible for families with children who are comfortable with a bit of adrenaline. Carved steps, chains, and a few guard rails are there to help you feel more confident.

Truth be told, the most difficult part of hiking Angel’s Landing is not the narrow trail with long drop offs, but the amount of people on the trail as the day progresses. While you might be tempted to sleep as part of your vacation, I’d highly recommend setting your alarm clock for an early morning and catching the first or second shuttle leaving the Zion Visitor Center in the morning.

And once you make it to the top? Take a few pictures for the memory books, but then start your descent before you feel like you are part of a Tetris game as the trail becomes more crowded. Not sure the kids can make it all the way to the top? You can go as high as Scout’s Lookout – a landing area where the views are still impressive – without making your way up the narrow spine to the top.

3. Wade through the Narrows

The Bottom-Up Narrows hike isn’t just a favorite trail, it is a rite of passage for Zion hikers and a unique trek for families with kids. Young adventurers will love wading through the waters of the Virgin river while parents appreciate the narrowing canyon walls and reflections of sunlight that cast rays of gold and red as you go deeper.

Not sure you want to get wet? There is no avoiding water on this hike. Rent dry gear and a walking stick from a local outfitter like Zion Adventure Company in the colder months and bring a dry bag to store your camera or phone.

This hike is weather dependent, based on the Cubic Feet per Second levels and flash flood conditions of the Virgin River (the Park Service closes the Narrows when the CFS is over 150, but I’d recommend no higher than 100 CFS with younger children especially). Click here for more about the Narrows Bottoms-Up route.

4. Explore the Terrain Along the Zion-Mount Carmel Highway

Cars are not allowed along Zion Canyon Scenic Drive – the main thoroughfare through Zion National Park – from mid-March through October. But you can drive from the Springdale entrance to the eastern entrance along the Zion-Mt. Carmel Highway. This 10-mile stretch offers switchbacks, sweeping views, and a drive through a mile long tunnel through the stone mountain.

Once you’ve reached the eastern section of the park, you’ll find many pullouts to park your car and explore what feels like uncharted terrain over slick rock and through canyons. Of course, if you do go exploring, be sure to keep track of your route and maintain a sense of where you parked.

One of the most impressive views is of Checkerboard Mesa – a coned landform with known for horizontal scratches made my wind and vertical cracks from thousands of years of weathering that resemble a checkerboard.

1 Great Place to Eat at Zion: The Whiptail Grill

There are no shortage of restaurants in the town of Springdale, just outside the park. For a local favorite, we asked our canyoneering adventure guide for a suggestion and found ourselves at The Whiptail Grill. Our only mistake was waiting to eat there on the last night and regretting that we didn’t have the chance to go back.

This Mexican fusion restaurant once served the community as a Texaco gas station and still reflects the look of a service station with an outdoor patio under the original awning.

Portions are large, but you’ll probably be hungry after a day of adventures. Start off with an appetizer like the Goat Cheese Chili Relleno and then come up with a plan of what to choose between fish tacos, spaghetti squash enchiladas and Mexican pizza. (Or have everyone order one of each and then share!)

Be sure to arrive early as seating is the first-come-first serve. Website: www.whiptailgrillzion.com

Best Place to Stay When Visiting Zion National Park with Kids: Cable Mountain Lodge

While many families will enjoy nights under the stars at one of Zion’s campgrounds, we opted for a suite at Cable Mountain Lodge. Not only is the property located just outside the main entrance gate to the park, the suites are reasonably priced and offer kitchens, comfortable accommodations, and a pool (and hot tub) to play and relax in after a long day of hiking.

Rooms and suites have private terraces, many of which overlook the massive red rock formations which put on a special show at sunset with the reflection of the setting sun.

You’ll also appreciate being within walking distance of several good restaurants and the nearby village where you receive a discount by showing your room key at the local market, IMAX movie theater and shops. Website: www.cablemountainlodge.com

Map for Your Trip Planning:

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The post Zion National Park with Kids | Utah Family Vacation Guide appeared first on Family Travel 411.

Located in Ireland’s ‘Sunny Southwest’, County Kerry is revered for its incredible scenery. Stunning coastline, historic castles, and sparkling caves are only the beginning of the wonders you’ll find as you explore County Kerry with kids.

Activity 1: Explore Killarney National Park

County Kerry with kids? Make fond memories and take fun photos when you explore Killarney National Park by carriage.

Ireland’s first National Park now covers more than 25,000 acres of lakes, woodlands, bogs, and mountains. You could spend days exploring everything the park has to offer. A terrific introduction can be found in the back of a jaunting cart as it takes you from the heart of Killarney town to Ross Castle, your jarvey (carriage driver) sharing the history of the area as you go.

After returning to town venture by car or rented bicycle to Muckross House, a magnificent Victorian mansion where Queen Victoria stayed during her visit to Ireland in 1861. Continued explorations can take you to Muckross Abbey, the Torc Waterfall, and the beautiful Ladies’ View overlooking the Lakes of Killarney.

Animals, both wild and domestic, can be found within the park lands. Ireland’s only herd of native Red Deer roam the mountain forests while the rare Kerry Cow (which provides the milk and cream for delicious Murphy’s Ice Cream) grazes in the meadows.

Much of Killarney National Park is free to visit, though tours of Muckross House, Ross Castle, and the jaunting cart tours each have their own associated fees.

Activity 2: Take a Day Trip to the Dingle Peninsula

Catching a glimpse of Dingle’s most famous resident, Fungi the Dolphin.

Plan to leave Killarney early to enjoy a full day on the incredible Dingle Peninsula. Your drive to and from this most westerly point of Ireland includes a high mountain pass or a beautiful beach where you can learn to surf.

Once arriving in the village of Dingle you may hear a bit of Irish spoken as the area is a Gaeltecht. Wander the village–making sure to pop into Murphy’s Ice Cream as this is the original shop–before hopping aboard a boat ride to meet Dingle’s most famous resident, Fungi the Dolphin.

Grab lunch at the chipper near the wharf before driving the historic and scenic Slea Head Drive. Stop often as you can explore an Iron Age Fort, famine cottages, glorious beaches, and ancient churches as you circle the peninsula. Take time to visit the Blasket Islands Visitor Centre and maybe even catch a boat to the now uninhabited islands.

Tip: Use this 2-day Dingle Peninsula itinerary to help plan your time.

Activity 3: Take a Hawk Walk

Killarney Falconry offers a family package Hawk Walk your kids will never forget.

There is really nothing that can compare to the exhilaration and adrenaline you feel as a hawk focuses on you and swoops in to land. Opening your leather-gloved hand to offer food, you notice how incredibly large, yet light, the bird is as it is perched upon you. As it spreads its wings and takes off you feel the incredible power vibrate up your arm, the whoosh of air and maybe brush of a feather as the falcon leaves you, eyes intently searching for prey.

Killarney Falconry offers a family package Hawk Walk overlooking beautiful MacGillycuddy’s Reeks. A splurge-worthy experience your entire family will talk about for years! Note: advance booking is necessary.

Activity 4: Tour the Gap of Dunloe and Lakes of Killarney

Exploring the Gap of Dunloe by jaunting cart during a visit to County Kerry with kids.

Explore the Gap of Dunloe by bike, jaunting cart, or on foot. The 11 km ‘gap’ is a narrow mountain pass between MacGillycuddy’s Reeks and the Purple Mountain. If exploring by foot or pony trap, arrange to be dropped off at Kate Kearney’s Cottage at the north side of the pass and make your way to Ross Castle.

If you choose to cycle, begin by cycling through Killarney National Park. Then catch a boat at Ross Castle to the south end of the pass at Lord Brandon’s Cottage.

Your jarvey and/or boatmen will entrance you with tales of Innisfallen Island, the Meeting of the Waters, and the Old Copper Mines as you explore this enchanting area. You can arrange the tour yourself or use one of these local tour companies: Killarney Day Tour and Gap of Dunloe Tours

1 Great Place to Stay in County Kerry with Kids: The Dunloe

A spacious Family Room at The Dunloe.

Not far from Kate Kearney’s Cottage, The Dunloe is a fantastical family paradise. Discover their extra-large family suites, gentle horses, a massive adventure playground, and summer movie nights. Let the concierge assist with your local day tours, or take advantage of the activities on the estate.

Tip: Be sure to visit the Family Breaks page of the website for special room rates and packages.

1 Great Place to Eat: Kate Kearney’s Cottage

Great food and great music at 150-year-old family-run Kate Kearney’s Cottage in Killarney.

Legend holds that Kate Kearney was a rare beauty and a fine distiller of poitín, an illicit Irish moonshine. Weary travelers through the Gap would stop for Kate’s hospitality before venturing on to Killarney. Today Kate Kearney’s Cottage is still known for welcoming travelers, though the offerings are of a legal nature.

Enjoy an evening of craic in the pub, with live music 7 nights a week, or choose finer dining in the restaurant.

Tip: Make reservations in advance for Traditional Irish Night. You’ll enjoy a traditional Irish menu and entertainment with music, storytelling, and dance. And who knows? You may even end up on stage before the night is done.

More features to help with your Ireland travels:

Ten things you should know before traveling to Ireland with kids

Dublin with kids Family Vacation Guide

How to live like a local family during travel

County Clare with Kids Family Vacation Guide

Ten things you should always pack for travel

County Cork with Kids Family Vacation Guide

Ten things you should do before booking family vacation rentals

County Galway with Kids Family Vacation Guide

Six amazing Ireland family vacation destinations

Northern Ireland with Kids Family Vacation Guide

Travel with Teens: Tips for Getting and Renewing U.S. passports for kids 15 to 17 years

Baby gear rental and equipment hire in Ireland and Europe

Nine Amazing Family Vacations Abroad

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