WATFORD CITY, N.D. — “There’s always a price,” my little sister chirped from the passenger seat of my SUV. Sweat was dripping down her face and soaking her body, which was covered in sand in every conceivable and inconceivable area. I spent 20 minutes blowing up the pool ring and my sister spent 15 blowing up the banana. My little sister went in after them, carrying the half-inflated pool ring like her life depended on it. “Next time we’ll just go to the pool,” we all laughed, only half meaning it, because a country girl would never…