Meets Expectations

I went into this trip with minimum to non-existent expectations, and I will say that, so far, they have been met.

We got off to a late start. This is not unusual for us. As a matter of fact, the rule of thumb is take the estimated departure time and add two hours for exact time of departure. So I knew when I went to bed Thursday night that we wouldn’t be on the road by eight the next morning, and I was slightly surprised when we left about ten-ish because ED’s car was still in the shop (typical lack of parts on hand turned a couple of days into a week repair) and she was still waiting on it Friday morning. We offered her our other vehicle, but it is a “mom” mobile and she was reluctant. Taking our little truck would have complicated life a bit because the girls would have needed to drive out to our place, leave MK’s car and then reverse the process when they got back.

We were clearing the city – a good 45 minutes from our home – when Rob got a call from ED informing him that she had picked up her car but now MK’s wallet was missing and they were retracing her steps of the previous evening to find it. Failing that they would need to go to the bank to replace her debit card at the least.

The girls finally hit the road as we were eating lunch in Red Deer which was two hours ahead of where they were. An accident on the highway to Calgary forced us onto a smaller highway and Rob just gave up and slowed to a crawl to let the girls catch up. ED was not thrilled about navigating the mountain highway in the dark without dad in the lead. I didn’t blame her. The TransCanada through Rogers Pass is … challenging.

We got to the motel minutes before the night clerk was about to close the office. It was about 11PM Alberta time, but we gained an hour when we crossed into B.C. Still, Rob and I were exhausted. BabyD had slept fitfully in the back seat because I kept her tethered in the seatbelt. I might let her sleep without it on a regular stretch of road in a pinch, but not on the mountain roads.

Revelstoke is a magnet for skiers, snowboarders and people who snowmobile, a typically younger, heavy recreational drinking, smoking crowd. We checked in as they were filtering back from the pubs. You can’t smoke indoors anywhere in B.C. and as a result, people were out on the decks smoking and talking which made it difficult for us to open windows (the room heater was broken and the temperature was 30C-ish) and kept BabyD up for a good half-hour before she fell back to sleep.

Rob and I barely slept at all. Four hours would be my guess. At one point I lay there, sweltering, and listening to some dork try to seduce a drunken girl with his “extreme confidence”:

“I don’t want to brag,” I heard him say but knew that he was about to, “but I am extremely confident. I just am.”

“I can so tell,” little Miss Drunken Thang gushed.

And seriously, that was the conversation for a solid ten minutes until I closed the window – more to save my soul than my lungs from the ciggie smoke. Thankfully, she was either inebriated enough, or just that dumb, that he got her into his room and there was silence (which means he probably wasn’t as “good” as he was “confident”) for a good twenty minutes. Then I heard him asking her if she would like to use the shower first which pretty much sums the experience up for both – from my point of view. And yes, the walls are thin. I took pleasure in turning on the television for BabyD this morning at 7:30 AM. Enough satisfaction that it offset my complete exhaustion.

A bit after midnight, the Bride knocked at the door to tell Rob he was among the chosen to heli up to the mountaintop to witness the ceremony. It was a parents and aunts/uncles thing only beyond the wedding party itself which probably didn’t sit too well with the girls but I didn’t catch their reaction as they were downstairs in another room.

Rob hadn’t planned to go up. He didn’t think he was on that rarefied list but it makes sense that he was asked. He is Shelley’s stand-in. I am so glad that Will’s family and friends don’t see me as a proxy. I don’t think I could live long with that expectation on my shoulders.

So, it’s nearly eleven. Rob is either on his way down the mountain or being driven back to the motel. The girls are asleep because I gather there was drinking until wee-ish hours going on with the cousins and younger members of the wedding party. BabyD and I have walked about, found a bit of brekkie and are back in the room. It’s not raining. Knock wood. And I would like to explore a bit, but the child is too tired to keep up. I am tired too, but my idea of a vacation is not vehicle, room, more vehicle. It’s warmer here than at home and it would be nice to walk even if I can’t quite see straight.

Tonight will likely be a treat, but Rob says we are outta here early (plus two hours) and even better (knock wood again) weather awaits in Penticton.

14 thoughts on “Meets Expectations

  1. I always wanted to get out and explore, too. And I always had somebody with me who didn’t. Sorry about the motel and Mr. Confident. It could have been worse, they could have gone at it at the top of their lungs for hours.

  2. My first husband originated from Kimberley, BC. I loathed those trips through mountain passes to see his folks- it was always dark, with miserable weather.

    Mountain hotels are pretty much revolting for those of us who have been there, done that, and have the kids to prove it. Hope the Penticton portion is more pleasant.

    1. Sometimes it’s just the people you encounter that is the worst of it. But we had an awesome waiter at the Boston Pizza in Camrose, and the girl waiting counter at the bakery behind Emo’s here in Revelstoke was a rare find, sweet and kind and very helpful.

  3. Young girl learns “confident” and “capable” are two different things. What’s that expression about your mouth writing checks?

    Safe travels!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.