Over the past few years, both my husband and I have felt increasingly bummed that we don’t have closer (geographically and emotionally) relationships with our families of origin. No family members live in our state, and none of them are as comfortable traveling as we are, so it often falls on us to visit them if we want to spend time together. But we’ve also become burned out packing up the kids and schlepping to see extended family on their home turf. So this year, we decided to do something about it. We cherry-picked family members from both sides — including multiple total strangers who had never met each other — and dropped a pin on the map, kinda-sorta-not-really in the middle. We booked a couple of campground lodgings. We promised no cost to our families; all they had to do was drive there and get along. It was the biggest multigenerational travel gamble we’d ever taken. But we hoped it would be worth it.Imgorthand via Getty ImagesPlanning an intergenerational trip can mean trying to balance a lot of vastly different interests. But it's not impossible.When planning our trip to include 10 family members ranging in age from 3 to 60-something, we wanted to be super intentional. After all, the hope is that everyone will have a (reasonably!) lovely time, despite differences, right? So, I spoke to some pros about how to plan smart — and preserve relationships along the way.Mindfully planning multigenerational travel matters. A lot.“Multigenerational travel can be meaningful and challenging,” said board-certified psychiatrist Dr. MaryEllen Eller. “Even people we love can be difficult to spend extended time with — especially with disrupted routines, jet lag, and different preferences around walking speed, food, and activities.” Even though we were starting from a smart spot — i.e., with a primo selection of family members we actually adore — there were still the drivers vs. flyers to consider, the early risers vs. night owls, plus all kinds of different diets/abilities/activity levels to manage. One of the trickiest parts of planning this trip was deciding whom to invite — and whom not to. Rather than including every single one of our extended family members, we tried to choose a mix of personalities we thought might blend well. This wasn’t about exclusion; it was about feasibility. A trip like this requires a baseline of openness and flexibility, and we knew not every family member would be up for that.Eller said it’s totally fine to accept that “not every trip will suit every family member due to differences in mobility, interests, or life stage.” “When that’s the case, direct and respectful communication is key,” she stressed. “Being open and honest about the nature of the trip — while maintaining a tone of care and consideration — helps reduce the likelihood of hurt feelings.”Relationship therapist Ligia Orellana agreed and suggested framing the partial family gathering as “more about logistics… Explaining the decision in practical terms can make it feel less personal and less emotionally charged.”“Even people we love can be difficult to spend extended time with — especially with disrupted routines, jet lag, and different preferences around walking speed, food, and activities.- Dr. MaryEllen Eller, psychiatristSo, I booked flights to visit my brothers and mom later this year — and my sister and I explained the reasons (my sister’s heart condition and avoidance of flying, plus my nonverbal autistic nephew’s needs) we were planning a road trip to the middle of the forest without them. Orellana suggests saying something like, “We thought this would be a good mix to try for this year,” to create emotional distance and a hope for future trip variations.With so many elements to juggle, Eller advises not aiming too high with your trip goals: “The goal isn’t a perfect trip, but a flexible and respectful one,” she said. “Setting realistic expectations ahead of time helps normalize friction and reduce avoidable frustration.” That means clearly communicating any travel requirements surrounding schedule, cost and more before the trip, as uncomfortable as that may feel. Otherwise, you risk surprises springing up — and nobody wants a mid-trip showdown over who gets which room. So: When making travel plans, ask — don’t assume. “Assumptions create misunderstandings,” Eller said. Instead, “clear, proactive communication about expectations — how people want to spend their time, what matters most to them, and where flexibility is needed — can minimize misunderstandings.” For us, this advance expectation-setting led us to decide we wanted multiple lodging options in close range to each other, plus plenty of wide-open, outdoor space. Chatting beforehand with the family members we’d looped in (my husband’s brother, sister and parents, plus my sister and brother-in-law, who were bringing our niece and nephew), we realized we needed major flexibility to accommodate everybody’s wildly different sleep and energy schedules. My 3-year-old still naps, for example, while my autistic nephew needs lots of runaround space. The adults, meanwhile, wanted to be able to go on hikes or lounge around with a few beers.This was ultimately how we landed on Emberglow Outdoor Resort in Mill Spring, North Carolina — right near the shores of Lake Lure and situated within 400,00 acres of Talladega National Forest. Like a high-end version of the classic campground, this spot let us choose between pitching a tent, parking an RV or booking one of the on-site lodgings, from tiny houses to a revamped double-decker bus. Given the size of our gang — and the uncertainty of mountain weather in the springtime — we selected an ADA-accessible (and fully heat- and AC-equipped) deluxe yurt as well as the biggest pick on-site, the Family Treehouse. Then, we hit the road.Optimism does have to meet reality at some point.Family members embarked from three different home states and drove six to 12 hours to the campground. At the end of our fourth hour, my partner and I started to feel the emotional whiplash.Disappointment: We had learned that his younger brother and sister were caught up with work and relationships (ah, twentysomethings!) and wouldn’t be able to make it after all.Excitement: This could still be amazing! A chance for bonding! His parents, my sister, together for the first time! Then: dread. What if nobody clicks? What if we’ve just invited chaos into the woods and called it a vacation?If you’re considering a multigenerational trip, this is your first mental prep step: Accept that you are inviting complexity into a shared space. Family therapist Caitlin Blair said the feelings that catch people off-guard most often on big family trips “are regression and resentment. You can be a fully functioning adult and still find yourself sliding back into old family dynamics the moment you’re all under one roof. This is super normal!” The solution? Build in space, she said.That’s why we gravitated toward the campground setup, which allowed for both togetherness and privacy, with enough space that people could retreat. That balance was crucial, which became immediately evident upon our arrival: Two kids went straight to the playground, two played in the treehouse, my husband cooked, my in-laws went for a walk, my sister and I vaguely supervised the smallest/most chaotic children, and my brother-in-law disappeared for a nap after driving the 12 hours. Wins for all.“You can be a fully functioning adult and still find yourself sliding back into old family dynamics the moment you’re all under one roof. This is super normal!- Caitlin Blair, family therapistAfter all, “the most successful trips,” Eller said, “balance shared experiences with individual autonomy, allowing for both connection and personal choice. This often means taking time alone.”Spending was another delicate dance. Even though we had covered the main costs, incidental expenses started to creep in — groceries, firewood, shared supplies. Luckily, everyone wanted to chip in; the baseline of zero accommodation costs made other spending more comfortable. Still, navigating all of it required grace and flexibility. The grandparents arrived the most prepared; they brought coffee for everyone and enough ingredients for multiple breakfasts. We millennials, meanwhile, kept running to and from the grocery store. All in all, it seemed like we were all doing a well-intentioned, if disorganized, job at keeping generosity flowing.Here’s what surprised me most: the emotional climate. It was so lovely. Cousins and grandparents were reunited. My sister and mother-in-law hit it off immediately. At one point, I could smell weed and had about five different guesses as to which family member it belonged to. Laughter around the fire. Hot dogs and grilled oysters. Relatives hooting within minutes of meeting each other, thanks to the 3-year-old announcing, “EVERYONE, I FARTED.”Photo Courtesy of Amelia EdelmanThe author's family found fun for all different age groups, but it did require some careful planning.Yes, there were also spats and side conversations. My husband and I definitely had a fight during the trip, and one of us stormed off, pissed, to our off-property hideaway (the grocery store). The cousins bickered. My MIL pulled my husband aside one night for a seemingly stern heart-to-heart about his current job hunt. And people navigated personal boundaries in real time. Some (most) needed alone time. Others wanted constant connection (sincerely, the two of us who shared one trundle bed until college). Some family members bonded quickly, while others kept more distance.We didn’t overplan, and that turned out to be a gift. We sketched out big group meals together, but otherwise ran on unstructured time. Grandma brought plenty of crafts, and we swapped gardening magazines. The kids ran amok through the creek and at the nearby playground and basketball courts. My sister and I slipped away to take, I kid you not, an adult ballet class a short distance down the mountain road. The experts I spoke with recommended this dance (pun intended) between structure and flexibility for multigenerational travel. Too much planning can feel restrictive; too little can lead to disconnection. We landed in the middle, and it worked.And perhaps most importantly, we showed up — despite many hours of driving and a multitude of misgivings. All 10 of us were willing to take a risk to create something new, let go of perfection and spend spring break stomping through a creek with some would-be strangers who we now truly feel are family.