Weekend trip report--Chapter I

Grants Pass - June 18, 2004

Part One: In which we drive for four hours
Driving south on I-5 is somewhat monotonous. Not as much as traveling west on I-80 through Iowa and Nebraska, but still. There are mountains, but it's mostly a valley with little to see. Boatloads of allergens, though.

Driving for any amount of time is an eternity when you don't have much to do but drive. Nobody wants to listen to music, so I kept hoping that Mrs. Giant Fighting Robot would keep folks in the car talking so I didn't drift off into slumber and end up driving off the road. Obviously she was successful as I am typing this.

Part Two: In which we attempt to check into a hotel
I didn't make the reservations for the hotel. Neither did the Mrs. It was her uncle, who just picked something close to the road, a chain where they promise to keep the light on for you. Evidently the wattage to keep that light on burned precluded hiring competent staff.

See, we show up in the hotel and we ask for our reservations. It is not under my stepmother's name. Her brother is listed, but not her. It is not listed under her husband's name. It is not listed under my name. It's not listed under my wife's name. Are we sure we're not [her brother]?

The conversation went something like this:

Us: We want two rooms for four people. My name is Mrs. GFR's mother-in-law.
Clerk: I don't have a reservation for that name, but I do have one room for [uncle-in-law.] Two adults and two children.
Us; That's not us.
Clerk: You want one room for [uncle-in-law]?
Us: No, we want one room for us, and one room for them.
Clerk: OK, we'll get one room for [uncle-in-law].
Us: DO NOT SAY THAT NAME ANYMORE. THAT PERSON IS NOT HERE.
Clerk: I took the reservation. You are [uncle-in-law].

We call the person who made the reservation. We put the clerk on. She refuses to admit that we have no reservation. Eventually they decide to just bite the bullet and issue a room to my in-laws and then a room for us.

So we give her a card and an ID and then she checks out a room with one adult to Mrs. GFR's parents. Then she turns to me.

Clerk: So the other room is for [uncle-in-law]?
Us: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO.

We explain that while we have four adults, none of whom are in their system, she swears up and down that she has a reservation for us even though it's not in the computer. Even though she keeps thinking my name is [uncle-in-law].

Eventually we get a room. Well, we sign some papers. "Which room am I in, I ask?"

Clerk: "I can't say it out loud."

Of course, I think. If you say it out loud, the gang of ninjas lurking outside the office will know where I am, go to my room, and set up a trap to kill me! Thank goodness for her quick thinking!

Part three: In which we attempt to find BFE
Another of Mrs. GFR's uncles lives in the middle of nowhere. I mean, I thought my grandparents' old cabin was hard to find, but this house? Off the highway. Take a turn. Take another turn. Go up the hill, around the corner, take a right, around the three-headed dog, through the lake of fire, avoid Scylla and Charybdis, and bend space and time.

Why are we in Grant's Pass? Funeral for Mrs. GFR's grandmother. Only there's the family stuff. So we're at the uncle's house, which I think is marked somewhere on my map as "Here there be dragons." We sit around, and eat. And eat. And talk. This has been a bad year for grandmothers in our house--I'm vaguely familiar with the routines after my own grandmother's funeral in April.

Addendum: I am exhausted after driving all weekend so I will continue this later...