That sometimes meant that he would supplement his teacher's salary by doing the backbreaking work of installing hardwood floors for contractors or my uncles. It certainly meant searching for deals.

My sister, brother and I grew up thinking the ultimate in travel luxury was a motel with a swimming pool. We learned to order and enjoy grilled cheese sandwiches at restaurants because they were the least expensive menu item. We drank water instead of pop.

With one major exception, our vacations often involved close-to-home trips or excursions to visit family friends. Elko was a frequent destination, as was Boise. We went to Yellowstone or the cabins at Moon Lake in eastern Utah. Oregon was possible because we could stay in the home of one of Dad's best friends.

That exception was memorable and came before my sister, Lori, was born. If memory serves, I was 12 and my brother, Derk, was 5 when Dad piled us into an old car and drove us to Disneyland.

The Magic Kingdom was, indeed, magic. Though well over 40 years have passed, I vividly remember riding the jungle boats, driving boats and cars and enjoying the then-newly opened Matterhorn bobsled ride.

This was a major financial investment for Dad and Mom, and every dime needed to be budgeted. After Disneyland, the folks decided to stay in Las Vegas and checked us into an inexpensive motel, where I was assigned to babysit my younger brother.

Dad always enjoyed gambling, but when he and Mom figured out expenses for getting us home, they learned they had a grand total of $1.50.

As the story goes, Mom decided to spend her share all at once and stuck 50 cents into a slot machine, which rewarded her with a $75 jackpot. Dad got hot at the craps table. Several hundred dollars richer at the end of the night, they elected to spend an extra day in Vegas. That allowed us to see Hoover Dam and stay at the Showboat Hotel, which included a shuffleboard court and one of the biggest pools we had ever seen.

There was another trip, probably pre-Lori, where we went to Yellowstone. On the way home, we pulled into Lava Hot Springs in Idaho in the dark and checked into a questionable cabin-style motel.

The next morning, my brother woke us up with screams of delight.

"There are fish in the toilet," he shouted, demanding that Dad get a fishing rod.

The wooden toilet was above the river, and we could indeed look down and see fish.

As Dad got older and enjoyed the benefits of the increased salary that came with his job as a principal, money became less tight. He took us and his grandchildren on cruises, always reveling in the knowledge that vacations played a big role in bringing us closer together.

Dad is now in his 80s, and health problems make it difficult for him to take longer trips. But, on this Father's Day weekend, I hope to take him on one of those short, fun trips we grew up savoring. We'll pop out to Wendover for a day and let him sit at the blackjack tables, enjoy a good meal and, most important, spend some time together talking about the good times.

The love of travel that Dad left Derk, Lori and me, as well as our children, is a legacy of the sacrifices he made. He has taught us that playing hard is almost as important as working hard.

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* TOM WHARTON can be contacted at wharton@sltrib.com. His phone number is 801-257-8909. Send comments about this story to livingeditor@sltrib.com.