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Thirty-six hours of wheel time with two kids in the back of a sedan may sound like a sadomasochist's idea of heaven, but after returning home from a road trip from Toronto to a cottage west of Thunder Bay -- about 1,500 kilometres each way -- even our children agree it was an ideal family vacation.

For travellers who have studied every crevice of Europe but forgone the pleasures of their own continent, imagine the drama of the Amalfi Coast -- sparkling waters, steep cliffs and hidden beaches -- echoed along the north shore of Lake Superior. In terms of natural scenery, this stretch of shoreline holds its own against any international beauty spot. Of course, you won't be able to dine on prosciutto and prosecco (unless you bring your own), and the cinderblock motels along the Trans-Canada Highway don't quite compare with the palazzos of Positano. But Mother Nature has more than compensated for the lack of cultural charm.

Our trip did not begin auspiciously. Within six minutes of heading north from Toronto on a hot day in late July, we had the first "Are we there yet?" from our two girls, Arianna, 8, and Emma, 5. Although we had done this very trip two years earlier, the girls seemed to have blotted the journey from their minds. We didn't have the heart to tell them we wouldn't check into a hotel until at least Sault Ste. Marie, about nine hours away. Instead, we promised a fun lunch stop.

Unfortunately, the stretch from Muskoka to Sudbury is fairly bleak. There are some pretty lakes and provincial parks, if you're willing to fork over the money for a day pass, but scenic picnic sites are few and far between. We decided to take our chances at the French River, the official dividing line between Southern and Northern Ontario. From the road, the span bridge over the gorge looked promising. We had a picnic in the shade under the bridge and watched canoeists trail fishing lines in the river below.

Back in the car, we decided to skip Sudbury, despite the lure of Science North (said to be one of the best science museums and a hit with children), and pressed on toward the Sault.

The rather dreary country around Sudbury soon gave way to green, rolling farmland above Georgian Bay.

The kids, who had been happily watching Splash for the third time on the portable DVD player, turned off the movie to look out the window. As we got closer to the Sault, signs warned of horse and buggy traffic. The kids spotted Mennonite farmers in their black hats at the roadside farm stands.

One of the biggest problems on a north shore road trip is finding a decent place to stay. There are a zillion hotels with names like the Sunset Inn or Whispering Pines. But in reality, most are about as romantic as the seedy motel in Blood Simple, the Coen brothers' dark masterpiece. Instead of listening to the wind rustling through the pine trees, you will find yourself awake all night listening to the trucks and fearing bedbugs.

We decided to take our chances at the Salzburger Hof, about half an hour north of the Sault at Batchawana Bay, and discovered a lovely, if rather surreal, spot. The buildings were straight out of Heidi -- complete with weatherworn painted flowers on the exterior wooden shutters -- the setting was pure Canadian North. Ann Elsigan and her husband had moved to Canada from Austria in the 1950s. In 1972, they bought an abandoned building on the bluffs overlooking Lake Superior and transformed it into a slice of Austria.

The woodwork throughout -- in the motel rooms, the chalets and the dining rooms -- was lovingly done by Ann's husband, a former pilot who died in 1994. The resort has 32 hectares of wooded land and a pebble beach. The children had plenty of space to run free, and the views over Lake Superior were spectacular.

The accommodation at the Salzburger Hof would not qualify as luxurious, and some of the towels were threadbare, but the beds were comfortable, the rooms cheerful and everything immaculately clean. Even better, for weary travellers with griping children, the hotel restaurant offered weighty portions of schnitzel, smoked pork chops, sausages and sauerkraut, as well as a decent salad. (The restaurant is evidently popular with the locals; the hotel can accommodate 48 guests, but there were about 130 diners for the Friday-night buffet.) We fell asleep that evening to the sound of water lapping on the shore.

The next morning, we waved hello and goodbye to Pancake Bay, perhaps the most glorious stretch of unbroken white sand beach and sparkling blue water along the whole north shore. We had camped at the provincial park at Pancake Bay two years earlier and the kids begged to stop for a swim.

Instead, we bribed them with the prospect of gifts at the Agawa Indian Crafts store. The store is a treasure trove of native goods: dream catchers, jewellery, moccasins, flutes, dolls, leather bags, bows and arrows. The new toys helped keep the kids quiet for the next leg of the trip.

The drive for the next 150 kilometres or so was bliss -- open, twisting roads winding up and down the cliffs skirting the lake. There were few trucks, fewer cars and no cops in sight, so the speedometer was firmly placed in triple-digit territory. Just before the road turned inland to Wawa, we stopped for lunch at Old Woman Bay.

Old Woman is the quintessential Lake Superior bay: sheer, dark rock edged by deep-green trees dropping straight down to the water. Although a dozen cars were already in the parking lot, the beach felt almost empty. We found an isolated picnic bench, then spent a happy hour hunting for rocks and driftwood that the kids could use for magic wands.

Although the day was warm -- the daytime temperature was in the mid-20s for most of the trip -- the wind blowing off Lake Superior was cool enough to make the kids ask for their jackets. There was one brave soul swimming, but the water was too cold for us. We would have stayed longer, but knew we wanted to make Rossport for dinner.

Rossport is an old fishing village that is coming back to life as a yachting and lake adventure centre. It is as picture-perfect a spot as you can find on the north shore, and has the advantage of having a bit of history.

For divers, there is the luxury steam yacht Gunilda, the flagship of the New York Yacht Club and the pride of oil baron William Harkness, which sank on Aug. 28, 1911. It is now a dive site for anyone adventurous enough to venture down 90 metres -- way too deep for all but the most expert divers. Two divers have lost their lives exploring the wreck.

For us, the real draw is the Rossport Inn, which was built in 1884 as a railway hotel and has since had a number of reincarnations, including a stint as a strip joint in the 1970s. When American Ned Basher, then a jet fighter pilot stationed in Minnesota, bought the inn in 1982, it had been abandoned for four years and was close to falling down. "The bank was anxious to get rid of it," he says. "I bought it for a song."

He spent the next two years working on the building. When Ned was wooing his wife Shelagh in 1986 -- they first met in the Bahamas -- he sent her a bouquet of flowers and a one-way train ticket from Winnipeg to Rossport. She has been helping him run the hotel ever since.

The rooms have wooden dressers with mirrors and steel bedsteads with homemade quilts and Hudson's Bay blankets. The floral Victorian wallpaper feels welcoming, not fussy. When the train goes through town, the whole hotel rattles and shakes. It sounds annoying, but is instead oddly exciting.

The Rossport Inn will not appeal to travellers who want Jacuzzis and cable television. In fact, there are no TVs in the rooms, but there is a good selection of books and magazines. The bathrooms in the main hotel are shared. Still, it is a romantic spot.

The last time we stayed at the inn, we ran into Annie Proulx, whom we didn't recognized at first, in the dining room. She was driving from Montana to Newfoundland, so I suggested she read The Shipping News, at which point she informed us she had written it.

The kids loved the intimacy of the hotel, which meant they could be left alone in their room while we finished dinner in the dining room. They also loved sitting on the roof porch and watching the yachts and fishing boats ply their way between the islands. Rossport also has a sweet little beach and playground.

Our final stop was Kakabeka Falls, known as the "Niagara of the North," just beyond Thunder Bay. The kids loved watching the water tumble down 39 metres. Arianna, who had studied the voyageurs in school last year, was fascinated to read the role the Kaministiquia River played in the northern fur trade.

The best part about the trip, though, was the sense of wide-open space and isolation -- a true escape from the city. For the kids, Superior's north shore was as absorbing and occasionally enthralling as medieval castle or a museum's dinosaur-bone collection. We knew that the moment they first spotted the vast expanse of the lake. "Look, the sea, the sea!" the children cheered. "Let's go to the sea!"

Pack your bags

WHERE TO STAY

Rossport Inn: Rossport, Ont.; 1-877-824-4032; http://www.rossportinn.on.ca. Room rates range from $70 to $105 for two people.

Salzburger Hof Resort: Batchawana Bay, Ont.; 705-882-2323; http://www.salzburgerhofresort.com. Rates from $67 for a motel room to $207 for the three-bedroom chalet.

THINGS TO DO

Pancake Bay Provincial Park: 705-882-2209; http://www.ontarioparks.com. Open from May 7 to Oct. 11.

Agawa Indian Crafts: Highway 17 North, Pancake Bay, Ont.; 1-800-656-9676; http://www.pancakebay.com.

DRIVING TIPS WITH KIDS

In our 36 hours of driving, we calculated only three cumulative hours of whining. It helps to have a video player in the car . But even without the videos, road trips with kids can work well if you do a bit of planning. A good selection of small toys can keep the kids entertained for hours. We brought along washable markers and Playmobil figures.

The most important thing is to keep the kids well fed and watered -- if they aren't hungry, they will complain less. Frequent stops to let them run around, collect rocks and kick a ball can work wonders. A quick swim is even better. If they feel they will get frequent, fun breaks, it's easier to get them back into the car.

Pack a picnic. Food on the road (and coffee) is invariably dreadful, and two or three days of burgers and fries will leave everyone grumpy. Instead, invest in a plug-in car cooler and stock up on your favourite foods and include lots of treats for the kids so that every picnic is a feast and something to look forward to.