My grandparents had an itch for traveling. They saw all fifty states in the US and across the rest of North America. That's not including the foreign regions they had visited.
They met in Nebraska and later moved to Missouri, where I'd come to be born and raised. I traveled by their side throughout my childhood and teen years. We'd travel west sometimes and we'd make our trips back to the family in Nebraska often.
I remember, or so I was told, my overbearing question from the backseat as a child was "Grandpa, are we there yet?" So grandpa, being the clever fella he is, found just the solution to keep me from doing more than whining about the drive.
He showed me a game - counting windmills. Well actually when I was a child I pronounced it windshields, on accident.