Woke up at the usual time of 4am, even though it was a Saturday. I had my air-fare covered by Jarvae's frequent-flyer miles. And you know how easy those are to use... Since all of the standard seats were taken, I had to be put up in business class. What a trip that was. I can't remember the last time I had a hot meal on a flight. I didn't think they existed any more. Yet there I sat, hot eggs with ham, English muffin and fruit staring me in the face for breakfast on the flight to Seattle (is that Smuckers jam too?). I'm glad I didn't stop for a McBreakfast now.
I could get used to this 'flying business class' stuff... Except for one minor detail: I was irritated at the toddler behind me. It amazed me; we were in business class with all this leg room, and the little bastard STILL had the reach to kick the back of my seat. He better get Gold in olympic running with a stride that far-reaching! Even with that minor annoyance, I couldn't help thinking that this was to be a really good weekend.
I sat next to a guy headed to Alaska for the rest of the month. Talking to this guy made me miss Montana some. He mentioned fishing up at Fire Hole, around the corner from Jackson Hole which is just down the road from where I was raised.
* In a flash, I remembered trips to Canyon Ferry Dam to fish with my grandparents that would come up from Campbell, CA for a month or two in the fall on their way to Branson, Missouri for the season. Grandpa would mention how well he did this trip, only spending about $100/day to operate the motor home (with gas prices just over a dollar a gallon!). Catching the carp seemed to be my specialty, while he would catch
and clean rainbow trout nearly as fast as he could cast the line in. I think I remember his method for cleaning 'em, too, in a way that negated needing to scale them. He ended up with a trout fillet that was ready for the grill only thirty seconds after biting the hook that caught it. Now THAT'S a fresh dinner.
So, landing a short time later, I met Jarvae at her gate and we went on to get the car. She insisted we keep thoughts of a red Impala in mind because she didn't want yet another rental car that was white. So, due entirely to all that mental chanting (and only
perhaps because I put a word in with the rental car guy Brad) we left in a black Charger. When Brad told us this, I was thinking, "Fuckin-a, dude!" Let me just say now though, after several hours and 300+ miles driving it, that the driver seat ergonomics and rear visibility suck every ass out there, all with donkey dicks pounded in 'em. The head rest needs to be a
rest people, NOT something that pushed my head forward as a six-foot tall line-backer's head would be pushed down in a five-foot tall phone booth. Even IF it "had a Hemi" in it, I would still have been well short of satisfied with that car.
As to the visit itself... Some mentioned possible "ulterior motives" (wink-nudge) for Jarvae so generously flying me over to see her for the weekend. At the hotel, the concierge checking us in says, "Well I see one person on the reservation, but two people here... Should I assume you don't need the twin double beds?" She says no. I think to myself, "Damn."
After checking in, it was a quick trip back down to Seattle for some wandering around. By then, it was maybe 7pm and much time was spent driving in circles in an unfamiliar city. It was almost a scouting trip to learn what we wanted to hit Monday morning: Space Needle of course, the music experience project / sci-fi museum that closed just as we stopped by there. That one souvenier shop just down from the Needle. Under NO circumstance were we going to stop at that McDonalds that we had passed some seven times! Many photos were taken. There was also the "is that a hard right, or a soft right I need to make?" question I had after being told to make the next
left turn at the light as we headed back to the hotel. . . We stopped to have pizza (eh, good but not great), and called it a night around 10-ish.
The Embassy Suites kick serious ass. One thing we had mentioned as we checked in was our intent to head up to Canadia the next morning. Our helpful counter-dude (do they have an actual title?) tells us something ominous. Something called a
Hands Across the Border Celebration was to shut down the border for five hours or so on Sunday, 11a-5p. Better be one helluva block party. I didn't even know what their "purpose" was, but with that heads-up we found an alternate route to cross.
Something I hear far too seldom: "Larry, you were right, I was wrong." Thank you dear. Doesn't matter what it was referring to. I'm recording it for posterity.
Sunday morning (after Jarvae had pulled an all-nighter on Friday) came maybe a little too soon. We both got a really good night sleep, I'm sorry to say, and were finished with breakfast & out the door somewhere around 10am.
*note on country nomenclature / distance estimation: "Arond the corner" usually involves going around a mountain between here and there, being careful for moose, bears or fallen trees as you go. "Down the road" is a minimum twenty miles along a road that is generally visible for the entire distance (i.e. Straight as an arrow and maybe even paved), if it's not snowing.
Part II and photos tomorrow
Drowning Pool,
Nothingness
