Chapter 11

The Kidd’s Vacation

Sometime last spring, it would have been 1998, my family realized that I would be leaving them ever so soon, and heading off for college, and I wouldn’t be back for awhile. They also realized that with every day they waited, my time became more and more precious, as more and more things threatened to fill it. So they decided to go on a huge vacation that summer, one last fling with the whole gang (Except my older brother, but that’s another story). So the planning had begun, and really all us kids knew when we left was that we were going out west, the first stop, and that we would be gone for about three weeks. So we packed up our bags, and headed out on June 6.

The first stop that we made was in Ft. Dodge, IA. There we spent the night, and also went to their Frontier Days festival. That is basically just a bunch of people getting together to celebrate the old west - lots of Indian and Cowboy stuff to go around. We’d seen it all the previous summer though, and we moved on.

Our second stop was in Lake Okoboji, IA. For the past few years anyway, we have stayed at Trigg’s Lakeshore Resort on East Okoboji (The Great Lakes of Iowa region is made up of East and West Okoboji, and Spirit Lake). We always enjoyed it, so we went back. Somehow, it always seems to rain when we go there, and this time there was no exception. It began to rain the day we got there, and continued raining until the day we decided to leave, which turned the whole thing sunny and happy, but we were on our way anyway.

Next stop: Mt. Rushmore. That, however, is one thing that is easier said than done, as you have half the state of Iowa and the entire state of South Dakota (lengthwise) between you and it. It gave us a lot of driving. One comment I made on our way through that state (SD) was, "I haven’t seen so much of nothing in my entire life." But the driving soon became tiring for my father, who had been sick since our second day in Okoboji. So we stopped in the next "town," and found ourselves a hotel, this beautiful place with an indoor pool, in room movies, and room service, the whole works- right in the middle of nowhere, apparently for nobody. So we stayed there, and kept on driving the next morning.

Now our battle cruiser is a 1990 Chevy conversion van, with nice plush blue seats, with total blue interior and exterior. It’s name is Baloo, after the Jungle Book character. So this is what all the driving was done with.

We made it to Mt. Rushmore later that day, and boy were we in awe. You never really know just how high up something is until you stand right up next to it, and let me tell you, it was up there. So we went on. There was an attraction near there called Crazy Horse, another carving dedicated to its namesake. But it wasn’t finished as the papers back home had said. The mans face was all, but his body and the horse had yet to be completed. We could see that from the gate, so when they asked for the $19.50 admission, we asked where we could turn around.

We kept on going. Now through Wyoming, the terrain begins to steepen and become rockier, we had ourselves the beginning of the Rocky Mountains. Our new destination was Yellowstone, which lay on the other side of a narrow, winding road which went up and into the mountains. I won’t dwell on this much, but let it be said we were scared, it was foggy enough that you could not see ten feet in front of you, and that the grade of the road went from steep to very steep. It was the first time I’d ever seen runaway truck ramps.

In Yellowstone, my father settled down for a couple of days, trying to get well. We all went out and spent money in the various shops in West Yellowstone (nearby town), and my father told us that if we did not do something without him, that he was going home, because he didn’t want to be the reason that no one was having fun. So the rest of us went whitewater rafting (which was not in the original plan, however, my mom said that if she didn’t do it then, she may never get the chance again, so we did). The next day, my father was well enough, so we went into the park for the whole day, and were soon on our way. We drove through that little tip of Montana to get to Idaho, where we stayed in someplace that I can’t remember the name of, but we did drive through Idaho Falls. That night we stayed in the nicest hotel of the entire trip. Boy was it ever nice. My mom decided to splurge. There was just so much nice stuff there, but we moved on after one night.

Down south now to Utah. We drove down through Salt Lake and Provo. Over about a week we saw a bunch of old friends who had moved out there, visited the temple, gone to the BYU campus, talked with people, etc. It was a lot of fun there, and it was the focus of our trip.

Once again the time to go came too soon, and we decided to stay one more night. But we did end up leaving the next day. Back I-70, rather than I-80, due to the scenic route presented by the former. So we headed back through Colorado, and stayed there one night. Next day we hit Nebraska. I don’t see how people get by calling Iowa flat, because they must not have seen Nebraska- that is the flattest place I have ever seen. Even what we call hills, they don’t even have one, in the entire state. But we were soon in Iowa, and driving up that old familiar driveway, and that night, we were back in our own warm and comfortable beds.