{day eighteen|a tale of traveling|}

When I was little, my family did a lot of traveling, just because we wanted to. Sometimes it was short trips, not too far from home, camping in a campground. Sometimes it was far away, into another state, staying with family or in another campground. 

I remember my dad took off the entire month of August one year so we could take a road trip out west. We were to visit our uncle, aunt, and cousins in Colorado, then go to Yellowstone National Park, then head to the Black Hills of South Dakota, and then head home and hit some other stuff on the way. 

I have several memories of this trip. I remember that somehow my dad hooked up a TV and VCR for us in the suburban, and we watched movies on the way out to Colorado. I think we watched a Pippi Longstocking movie most of the way. That movie strangely disappeared after that trip.

I remember going to the top of the St. Louis Arch and being up there while it rained and then seeing a rainbow. 

I remember playing in a fort that my cousins had built, and also watching a Disney Channel movie with them the one day while our parents were away. We made a huge pile of pillows and blankets on the floor to watch the movie and I think I recall eating frozen burritos. 

I remember Josiah calling Mt. Rushmore the people rocks. I remember the cool fort we found in the woods of the campground where we stayed in South Dakota. We would play there any time we were at the campground. 

I remember staying at a KOA near the Badlands in South Dakota. I think the people who owned it let us play mini golf as much as we wanted to. 

I remember being eaten almost alive by the mosquitoes in Minnesota, and the train that ran right beside the campground in Michigan. 

I remember steering one of the Wisconsin ducks, which was pretty much like an amphibious truck.

I remember it as one of the best vacations we had. It was so much fun, going to all those different places and seeing so many things and just spending time with my family.