Henry Miller said, “One’s destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing things.”

I’ve found that a major benefit of grandchildren is they show you a new way of seeing things (like poking a roly-poly bug with a finger to study its transformation into a tight and tiny circle, or licking the latest flavor of ice cream in total anticipation of delight). With this in mind, take your grandchildren on a trip for an unforgettable experience.

My husband and I set off to one of our favorite locations, Mesa Verde National Monument, with our two grandchildren in tow. We wanted to share this treasure with our curious and questing offspring, not just for their benefit but for ours, too: a different perspective, new challenges and renewed appreciation.

Mesa Verde requires a nine-hour, 400-mile voyage from Denver (we picked our grandkids up from the airport) to its cultural, historic and archeological wonders. So we loaded up Lola, 10, and Sean, 7, for an expedition long enough to challenge us and short enough to avoid a resemblance of purgatory.

We were realistic. No, we couldn’t expect the children to be quiet the entire way. Yes, we knew distractions had to be planned. No, we had no hopes of a clean car interior, hands, faces and clothing.

In addition, we favored human interactions over electronics. Television wasn’t an option, for our lodge had none. And we would use the portable DVD player minimally.

Each child brought a backpack of books, crayons and toys. The distractions Grandma and Grandpa supplied tended to be based on our own interests pointing out the routes traveled by pioneers and noticing areas that forest fires had decimated. These made welcome breaks in the routine and also led to conversations. Seven-year-olds can have real conversations in which they state opinions, mull information and ask questions. Just give the kids time and a little direction. You’ll get highly original points of view while building the bonds between the generations.

We used the trip to test and try new things. We met people who spoke in other languages (teaching the kids that America is not the center of the world) and we learned life lessons through observations of human behavior (like the impact and irresponsibility of littering). Lessons like these broadened the children’s knowledge and experience.

We entertained ourselves playing games like Clue. In the car, long-beloved activities like car bingo, nonsense songs and license plate sightings all passed the time in positive ways. I hardly dared suggesting one pastime: reading aloud. I feared the kids would think it was a chore. But remembering their parents’ fascination three decades before with a narration of “The Great Brain,” I wanted to try. I didn’t have to. Lola brought Harry Potter books and read one to all of us, thereby providing entertainment, improving her reading skills, and making Sean eager to try reading subsequent volumes by himself.

Our four-day adventure was chock full of fun, exercise, new sights and experiences and a few disagreements from which we all learned. Sean challenged himself to climb tall ladders; Lola became an expert at detective work. None of us will forget the deer nibbling grass right outside the lodge room or the eerie yet exhilarating fog that spread over the landscape one morning.

Best of all, we became closer with our family’s next generation, and they learned more about us. As Sean said at the conclusion of our trip, “Grandpa is my new best friend.” What can beat a result like that?