The Dynamic Duo

We didst arise in goodly time, packeth up our car and wendeth our way towards the hamlet of Boise wherein we were to have merry reunion with our two youngest offspring. I didst have a refreshing respite from my weary travails whilst my spouse steerest the carriage on its established route.
Sorry about that. I’ve been listening to a bookontape about King Henry VIII and his six wives, and that middle English-type language is kind of getting to me.
Anyway, we picked up the boys, made contact with Aunt Debi who had a Triple AAA map and guidebook for me, and it was Oregon or bust! On the advice of one of those aforementioned friends, we made a stop in Baker City to visit the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center. It was a bit more out of our way than we had anticipated; in fact it was nowhere around anything else. There it sat on the edge of a bluff, all by itself. It was rather interesting. It sure made me think about how spoiled I am. I have NO hardships in my life, contrary to what you might be inclined to believe if you could hear my whining and complaining. Can you imagine taking off across the United States (Missouri was a popular launching point), walking or riding in a swaying, uncomfortable wagon all the way? There was a hands-on exhibit with wagons and shapes of wood labeled “blankets”, “dishes”, “coffee”, “your mother’s china”, “books”, “ammunition”, etc. You had to see what you could fit in the wagon. Mom’s china had to be left behind, of course, as well as things that I had deemed essential. Of course, all the glowing reports of the paid guides never were entirely true. I think that in particular the women had it the worst. At least the men got to off and have riding sport and the fun of hunting, if that’s your idea of a good time. And they didn’t have to wear those long dresses and bonnets. Death and major illness were more common than not. No Thanks. I guess I just don’t have that pioneering spirit.
We really didn’t stop again until just before Portland. I had made reservations(thru Travelocity) at a motel near a truckstop in Troutdale. My thinking was that we didn’t want to have to navigate Portland after dark on our first day. Well, we drove around this loop about 5 times before we finally found the motel; it’s marquee name didn’t quite match its name on paper, but we finally found it. I confidently strode into the lobby, clutching my precious confirmation number.
“Sorry, Ma’am. We have no record of a reservation for you, and the only rooms available are smoking”
Which was TOTALLY out of the question!
No probelm; I’ll just call Travelocity and see what they have to say about this; after all they gave me a confimation number and everything! Well, Travelocity is a busy place, apparently, because even though my call was “very important to them” it took me about 30 minutes on hold to reach an actual person. I explained my problem. “Well,” said Josh, “I will check this out. I will just put you on hold…........”
Finally, the family, hungry and weary of waiting in the car watching storm clouds gather in my face, drive to a nearby “Wendy’s” to seek refreshment. I waited in the car alone for a while, but finally went in and made everyone take turns holding my cell phone to their ear so that I could eat as well. Johnny took a picture with his cell phone camera of me slumped on the table with my face in my hand holding the phone on my ear. Though not my most attractive portrait, it so entirely captured the mood of the evening. FINALLY Josh came back on “It was the motel’s fault. Their main office didn’t fax the reservation. The only rooms they have available are smoking”. WOW, News flash!
No, I couldn’t talk to his supervisor. No, I couldn’t talk to anyone else. I could only file a complaint online. That was it.
Fortunately, there was a Motel 6 in the area with a room available, though the beds were Double instead of Queen. Needless to say, we were all ready to squeeze into those too-small beds by this time.
To be continued….............