The title of this story is, “How I drove 2,000 miles and learned to appreciate North Dakota wind.”
Last winter, my brother in
We began to think about the trip, in earnest, about one week before we were scheduled depart. I logged onto Mapquest to plan our route and discovered how many miles exist between Bismarck and Branson: 1,007. That’s 16 ½ hours with stops.
I gingerly told my husband, sitting across from me with his computer, who promptly logged on to Mapquest himself to verify my facts. Next year, I suspect vacation planning will be a joint venture.
The next day, a friend said, “I hope you’re going to change your position on DVDs in the car. You can borrow ours.” Which is what I intended to do. We were just past
The night before we left I searched for any possible excuse to get out of it. Not the trip really, but the two-page list of tasks leading up to it – completing work projects in advance, packing clothes and toys and food, preparing the car and the house and the yard, finding caretakers for the dogs and the plants.
Staying home is always an appealing prospect the day before a trip.
But as soon as we were on I-94 heading east I remembered something. I love road trips. And this one, it turns out, was to be our most successful venture yet.
Traveling is a learning experience. Here are a couple insights – new or reinforced –from our recent journey.
After dragging kids who can’t swim down water slides or toddlers who need a nap to museums I have finally learned that less is more when traveling with kids. They enjoy splashing in the pool or playing in the lake as much if not more than expensive, crowded, and all-too-often disappointing attractions.
I have multiple friends who have returned from
On this trip we tried to resist paid attractions and leisurely hung out by the pool and the lake, played cards, read books, swam, walked and ate simple meals without looking at the clock.
My four year old, who was previously scared to go underwater, declared with gusto that his favorite part of the trip was, “Jumping in the pool.” That’ll be a sweet memory when he’s 14 and we’re paying $50 for his admission into an amusement park.
This trip also renewed my appreciation for the
We watched enormous thunderstorms and vivid rainbows form miles across the horizon. These sites aren’t just spectacular for their beauty but for the comfort and serenity they invoke in the beholder.
As I was roasting by the pool with my sister one afternoon, I raved about the Ozark’s hot, still, mosquito-free climate. She told me about a friend of hers who moved to Williston from
This seems almost impossible after the spring we just endured. But I thought about it during our remaining days of vacation. Sitting by the pool was glorious, but as I imagined mowing the lawn in that heavy air I wanted to turn my head and feel a gust of fresh, crisp North Dakota wind.
Dorothy was right. There’s no place like home.
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