We always took camping vacations or vacations to Oklahoma to see our relatives when I was young. My brother and didn't have a lot of say about where we went, but we usually enjoyed ourselves. I had been asking my mom and dad to take us to Yellowstone, for a long time because I really wanted to see Old Faithful.
When I was in high school (maybe freshman or sophomore), my parents finally took my brother and I to Yellowstone, one fine August. We were tent campers in those days, Mom and dad slept on an interesting platform in their 1958 Plymouth station wagon storing all the camping paraphernalia under that platform. They had a mattress cut down to fit the platform perfectly. Bro and I slept in the tent. We had to put all the food in the car every night to discourage bears. That worried me just a little. The food was safe, but how safe were we under canvas? Earlier we saw a bear captured in a device that was going to take him further into the forest.
Dad got in some fishing in and we got to see the beautiful Yellowstone Falls and I did get out of the car to see Ol'Faithful spout, I was somewhat disappointed, as the viewing we saw, was not as spectacular as the one above.
Our visit was coming to a close when the weather turned cold, it was late August. That next morning I wakened to mom furiously shouting orders to dad, so I stayed quiet to sleep in a little, soon I was jerked awake when the foot of my sleeping bag fell of my air mattress and soaked up freezing water that I was floating on. When I yelled, Dad came and got me and carried me to the camp toilet and shower. It had rained that night and somewhere around freezing that am, it started snowing in August in Yellowstone. Mom and dad were packing up....every thing was soaking and we made a mad dash for a Motel and laundromat in Jackson Hole. The rest of the vacation was spent in Washington State and Oregon, on the way back to California. We dried the tent out at cousins, in Oregon.