My last blog about an incident on a family trip triggered a few more memories of adventures from my youth.

My parents were raised in Cleveland, Ohio and, besides having lots of family _ grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins _ there, dad worked for more than 40 years for Campus Sportswear, a mens and boys clothing manufacturer based in Cleveland.

Twice a year, dad would head for Cleveland to attend a series of meetings that introduced the new clothing lines and to pick up the samples he would use to take orders throughout his territory in Wisconsin and Illinois.

We moved to Madison, WI after dad was given that territory in 1950. In fact, we made the move from Cleveland to Madison on my seventh birthday, June 16, 1950.

My brother, Rich, two years younger, and I had quite a few friends in the neighborhood in Cleveland and we decided, without consulting mom and dad, to invite all of them to a birthday party at our house the day before the move. Of course, the parents came along to say goodbye.

It was quite a surprise to our harried and exhausted parents when people began arriving, presents in hand.

Dad quickly dashed out to get cake and ice cream and mom grabbed a table back off the rented U-Haul truck to put things on.

I thought I was in real trouble, but it turned out to be such a nice sendoff that all was forgiven _ although with the warning never to do that again.

Once we lived in Madison, there were one or two and sometimes three trips to Cleveland a year. That included going with dad, quite often, for his sales meetings and also lots of family occasions - bar mitzvahs, weddings and, sadly, funerals.

The Interstate system was still under construction and the 500-mile driving trips from Madison to Cleveland began with a long stretch on two-lane U.S. 12, which wound through numerous small Wisconsin and Illinois towns.

On one trip when I was around 14, meaning Bob, the youngest of my four siblings, was 4, we were stopped at a speed trap in Dodgeville, WI. Dad was clocked doing 35 in a 25 mph zone that began suddenly, just yards from the 65 mph highway speed.

The car that pulled us over was unmarked but had a bulbous light on top and a big spotlight on the driver's side. I remember it being covered with mud and dirt.

There were two men in the car, wearing drab brown uniforms and no hats. As they stepped out of the car, both unbuckled their side arms and began to walk slowly to both sides of the car, as if the mom and dad and five young children in the car were about to attack.

Dad had a very quick temper and both mom and I tried to keep him calm. But he flared as one of the cops came to his window, saying, "What the hell do you think you're doing drawing guns on us? Do you think my kids are criminals?"

The cop didn't blink, telling dad he had to pay the fine (I think it was $20) in cash or follow them to the courthouse. He grumbled, but paid, much to our relief. The rest of the trip was uneventful and I think, after getting through Chicago, we were able to use the Indiana Toll Road, which had just opened. The Ohio Turnpike was one of the first to open and we had driven it several times by then.

A couple of years later, we drove to Miami during spring break. As usual, dad drove straight through.

We always stayed at a very nice family-style hotel in Miami Beach. The best thing about it was the pool area, which Rich and I particularly loved. One time, there was a cold snap while we were there - highs in the 50s - and Rich and I were the only ones crazy enough to go in the pool. Of course, the water was warmer than the air, but most everybody thought we were nuts.

This time, the weather was beautiful, with temperatures in the 80s and the sun shining brightly. Everyone was happy and looking forward to a great week. But dad had not gotten notice of when the spring sales meetings were to start, so he called to find out.

He had expected the meetings to begin about two weeks after our vacation. Unfortunately, Campus had moved the meetings up to the middle of the week we arrived in Miami. The letter with the dates had probably arrived in Madison the day we left.

Dad suggested we just stay in Florida and he would fly up to Cleveland for the meeting and fly back after. But Mom didn't drive and she was worried about staying alone with five kids for a week in a hotel.

So, just one day after arriving, we packed up, jumped back in the car _ a Pontiac station wagon _ and headed for Cleveland. It was disappointing, but we all loved going to Cleveland, so that softened the blow.

Everything was fine until we hit the Pennsylvania Turnpike, a windy, dangerous road even today. It began to snow and pretty soon it was coming down hard. Than the windshield wipers stopped working.

Dad was a great driver who loved to be behind the wheel. But driving on the Turnpike in a snowstorm with no wipers was more than he bargained for. He pulled to the side of the road, saying, "We'll wait here until it lets up."

But, within minutes, a caravan of semis came slowly past. Dad joined the rear of the long caravan and we drove on in the wake of that last semi, traveling at maybe 20 mph. We could barely see the rear lights of the truck, but dad kept a steady pace for about half an hour until we came to one of the Turnpike gas stations.

Luckily, they had a mechanic on duty. The fix for the failed wipers was surprisingly easy. The wipers ran on a vacuum system and the mechanic pointed out a small hole that was letting air in. Dad filled the hole with a paper clip and the wipers worked again.

We were able to continue our trip without any more trouble. And, since we all loved being in Cleveland and seeing family, we didn't really miss being in Florida.

Another sales meetings story happened when I was in college, probably 19 years old.

The meetings coincided with my spring break from the UW and I joined the rest of the family for the trip to Cleveland. By this time, there was Interstate nearly all the way, so the ride was shorter and easier.

But, when we got to Cleveland, dad found out many of the new samples had not arrived and the meetings were postponed for at least a week. On the spur of the moment, dad decided, instead of spending the week in Cleveland, we would do a road trip to Toronto, a city we had never visited.

It was a pretty short ride from Cleveland, mostly along the shores of Lake Erie. And we stopped at Niagara Falls, the first time any of us kids had seen it. Very impressive.

We then continued on to Toronto. And it was then that we started to see billboards promoting the Canadian National Exposition.

It turns out the Expo, which is a real big deal in Canada _ kind of like a mini World's Fair _  was starting the day after our arrival in Toronto - where we had no hotel reservation.

Upon arriving in Toronto, dad saw a fancy looking hotel up on a hill overlooking Lake Ontario and within an easy drive of the downtown area.

It was about 10 p.m. when we arrived and Rich and I accompanied dad into the hotel. He walked up to the front desk and the man behind the counter smiled and said, "Hello. Can I help you."

Dad said, "Hi. I'm here with my wife and five kids. What can you do for us?"

The man looked startled and said, "Nothing, if you don't have a reservation. This is Expo week and every hotel within 200 kilometers of Toronto is fully booked."

Dad was undaunted.

"You must have something," he said. "I know you'd find a way to put up a VIP if he suddenly showed up. So consider me a VIP."

The guy started to shake his head and say something. Then he paused and looked down at a big book on the counter. This was before computers.

"Well, we do have a room that was used today for a board meeting. It's not a standard hotel room, but it has two pullout couches and we could bring in a couple of rollaways for the kids. But we would have to get it cleaned before we let you use it. That would take about a half hour."

Dad smiled and said, "That sounds fine."

But, never one to NOT look a gift horse in the mouth, he said, "How much?"

The man shrugged and said, "We usually get $120 a night for these meeting rooms."

This was in 1962. That was a fortune.

Dad said, "Look, it's 10 o'clock  at night and you're not going to find anybody to rent that room now. You can certainly do better than that."

After some serious negotiating, they agreed upon a two-night stay at $50 per night and everybody went away happy.

The room turned out to be very nice, with a big bathroom and a big screen TV. And the sleeping arrangements worked out just fine.

Laurie Harris (l) and Judy Harris with friend

The next day, we attended the Expo and I remember my sisters winning a huge Teddy Bear that took up an entire seat in the already-crowded car on the way back to Cleveland, and then on to Madison.

We had a great time, as usual, and another fun memory.