A baby moose in our front yard.
The day did not start well. I was sound asleep, and Buddy pulled on my toe. “Penn, Penn. Wake up.”
“Hmmm . . .”
“Darla just called. She has COVID-19. We have to head back right away.”
So much for a leisurely breakfast and exploring the woods.
I threw my clothes on and climbed up the stairs. Steve was finishing putting his things in his backpack. Buddy had her suitcase by the staircase ready to go downstairs.
“Uhh . . .” I muttered.
No one noticed me.
“Uh, do I have time to make coffee?”
“No, get your suitcase in the car,” Buddy said.
Back down the stairs I ran. I wrestled my case out to the car where Steve was loading the baggage.
“We’ll stop and get breakfast on the way.”
Oh boy. A real hearty Alaska breakfast.
We climbed in the car and off we went.
Steve’s phone rang. He took the call with a few “Uh huhs,” and “Alrights,” and ended with a “We’re on our way. We’ll be there soon.”
“That was Darla,” he said. “She thinks she needs to go to the hospital.”
“Holy shit. Is she all right?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Won’t know until we get there. We’ll see then.” Steve is a man of few words.
“Hmmm . . .”
“Darla just called. She has COVID-19. We have to head back right away.”
So much for a leisurely breakfast and exploring the woods.
I threw my clothes on and climbed up the stairs. Steve was finishing putting his things in his backpack. Buddy had her suitcase by the staircase ready to go downstairs.
“Uhh . . .” I muttered.
No one noticed me.
“Uh, do I have time to make coffee?”
“No, get your suitcase in the car,” Buddy said.
Back down the stairs I ran. I wrestled my case out to the car where Steve was loading the baggage.
“We’ll stop and get breakfast on the way.”
Oh boy. A real hearty Alaska breakfast.
We climbed in the car and off we went.
Steve’s phone rang. He took the call with a few “Uh huhs,” and “Alrights,” and ended with a “We’re on our way. We’ll be there soon.”
“That was Darla,” he said. “She thinks she needs to go to the hospital.”
“Holy shit. Is she all right?” I asked.
“Don’t know. Won’t know until we get there. We’ll see then.” Steve is a man of few words.
Scenic Alaska
We headed back into civilization. When we came to a little town, Steve pulled into a McDonald’s, and we ordered a gourmet breakfast. I could a had an egg McMuffin in San Diego.
I goofed. Not a big thing, but when Buddy read last week's post, she challenged me on leaving out an awkward moment. So, my apologies and here it is. I've added it to Day 4, but for your ease of reading, I'm tacking it on to the front of Day 5.
The drive from Denali to Talkeetna was about two hours. That’s a long time for an aging bladder. Sure enough, about an hour into the trip, Buddy needed to stop.
Steve drove and Buddy rode shotgun, I curled up in the back seat and wandered in and out of consciousness. I felt the car stop and popped up. “What’s going on?”
“I need to go pee-pee,” Buddy answered, jumping out of the car.
Not a bad idea I thought. I could feel pressure in my bladder as well. I got out of the car and walked around to the roadside.
“Stop. Don’t watch!” Buddy yelled.
Being the gentleman that I am, I walked up the road about a hundred feet and turned my back. I was just done doing my business when I heard Buddy yell, “Help.”
I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I kept my back turned. “Help,” she yelled again, “I can’t get up.”
I turned and found her squatting in the bushes with her pants down. “My knees won’t work. I can’t get up.”
Now I wasn’t too fast on the uptake. Instead of pulling out my cell phone and taking a picture, I walked over, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up.
She was mightily embarrassed. “My legs failed me. I couldn’t get up,” she muttered as she got in the car.
Of well, as the Bard said, “All’s well that ends well.”
Steve was on the phone all the way home. He called his boss and told him the story, then said he didn’t know if he would be in tomorrow. The boss had him call HR to find out what the policy was. Several times his daughter called, or he called her, to update him on Darla’s condition.
In the meantime, my travel buddy was on her phone. We couldn’t stay at Steve’s house as planned because it was quarantined. She called around and made hotel reservations for us. At the Hilton.
You know how cheap I am. If I’d made the reservations, it would have been at Motel 6, but I went along for the ride. (If you haven’t picked up on it yet, Buddy is freer with her money and has more of it than me.)
We got to Steve’s house, and he jumped out and told us we could use his car for today. We headed on downtown to the Hilton.
The Hilton was wonderful, except when it wasn’t. The parking lot, which cost $18 a day was a block and a half down the street. I pulled the luggage out of the car and waited for Buddy to park.
And waited. And waited. What the hell could take her so long to drive a block and a half and walk back? Oh, did I mention it was pouring down rain? It had been raining since we got here. I thought Seattle was bad.
She finally appeared. Apparently, in Anchorage, you can’t just drive up the street. You have to turn right, then circle the block, then there are no signs on the back street to tell which parking lot was Hilton’s. She finally had to come back to the main street heading the other direction to get parked.
We checked in. That process took about a half hour. The room had not been cleaned. Buddy headed down to the registration desk and came back to inform me we were moving. I expected a fruit basket or bottle of wine for our inconvenience. Nada. They hardly acknowledged their mistake.
The new room was much the same as the first, but cleaner. It was a small room with a king-sized bed. There was a bathroom with a shower. The only thing that distinguished it from the aforementioned Motel 6 was that it had nicer pictures on the wall and fancy lavender hand soap.
We settled in, then went out to explore Anchorage.
I goofed. Not a big thing, but when Buddy read last week's post, she challenged me on leaving out an awkward moment. So, my apologies and here it is. I've added it to Day 4, but for your ease of reading, I'm tacking it on to the front of Day 5.
The drive from Denali to Talkeetna was about two hours. That’s a long time for an aging bladder. Sure enough, about an hour into the trip, Buddy needed to stop.
Steve drove and Buddy rode shotgun, I curled up in the back seat and wandered in and out of consciousness. I felt the car stop and popped up. “What’s going on?”
“I need to go pee-pee,” Buddy answered, jumping out of the car.
Not a bad idea I thought. I could feel pressure in my bladder as well. I got out of the car and walked around to the roadside.
“Stop. Don’t watch!” Buddy yelled.
Being the gentleman that I am, I walked up the road about a hundred feet and turned my back. I was just done doing my business when I heard Buddy yell, “Help.”
I wasn’t sure what she was saying, but I kept my back turned. “Help,” she yelled again, “I can’t get up.”
I turned and found her squatting in the bushes with her pants down. “My knees won’t work. I can’t get up.”
Now I wasn’t too fast on the uptake. Instead of pulling out my cell phone and taking a picture, I walked over, grabbed her hands, and pulled her up.
She was mightily embarrassed. “My legs failed me. I couldn’t get up,” she muttered as she got in the car.
Of well, as the Bard said, “All’s well that ends well.”
Steve was on the phone all the way home. He called his boss and told him the story, then said he didn’t know if he would be in tomorrow. The boss had him call HR to find out what the policy was. Several times his daughter called, or he called her, to update him on Darla’s condition.
In the meantime, my travel buddy was on her phone. We couldn’t stay at Steve’s house as planned because it was quarantined. She called around and made hotel reservations for us. At the Hilton.
You know how cheap I am. If I’d made the reservations, it would have been at Motel 6, but I went along for the ride. (If you haven’t picked up on it yet, Buddy is freer with her money and has more of it than me.)
We got to Steve’s house, and he jumped out and told us we could use his car for today. We headed on downtown to the Hilton.
The Hilton was wonderful, except when it wasn’t. The parking lot, which cost $18 a day was a block and a half down the street. I pulled the luggage out of the car and waited for Buddy to park.
And waited. And waited. What the hell could take her so long to drive a block and a half and walk back? Oh, did I mention it was pouring down rain? It had been raining since we got here. I thought Seattle was bad.
She finally appeared. Apparently, in Anchorage, you can’t just drive up the street. You have to turn right, then circle the block, then there are no signs on the back street to tell which parking lot was Hilton’s. She finally had to come back to the main street heading the other direction to get parked.
We checked in. That process took about a half hour. The room had not been cleaned. Buddy headed down to the registration desk and came back to inform me we were moving. I expected a fruit basket or bottle of wine for our inconvenience. Nada. They hardly acknowledged their mistake.
The new room was much the same as the first, but cleaner. It was a small room with a king-sized bed. There was a bathroom with a shower. The only thing that distinguished it from the aforementioned Motel 6 was that it had nicer pictures on the wall and fancy lavender hand soap.
We settled in, then went out to explore Anchorage.
Buddy at the Dollar Bar
Food was a high priority, so we headed to Humpy’s, a well know Anchorage beanery. The place was packed, but Buddy found us a table by the window. It was always her favorite table when she used to live here. While we waited to make our order, we watched all the people in the street get soaking wet.
Do you know how to tell the difference between a native and a tourist in Alaska? The tourists have umbrellas.
The server came back, she was a nice young lady and running her legs off. We ordered duck farts. For dinner, Buddy ordered a halibut burger, and I ordered halibut and chips.
Her halibut burger was a better deal than my halibut and chips. It was grilled. My fish, of course, was deep fried. I hadn’t had fish and chips for years because too much fat makes me sick. What was I thinking?
I tried her halibut sandwich, and it was very good. My fish and chips were great too. For the first two pieces. Then my stomach began to churn, and I had to push it aside. All of that good halibut going to waste.
After a nice dinner, we hit a couple of gift shops and got presents for those at home, then headed back to the room where we collapsed into the bunk.
Do you know how to tell the difference between a native and a tourist in Alaska? The tourists have umbrellas.
The server came back, she was a nice young lady and running her legs off. We ordered duck farts. For dinner, Buddy ordered a halibut burger, and I ordered halibut and chips.
Her halibut burger was a better deal than my halibut and chips. It was grilled. My fish, of course, was deep fried. I hadn’t had fish and chips for years because too much fat makes me sick. What was I thinking?
I tried her halibut sandwich, and it was very good. My fish and chips were great too. For the first two pieces. Then my stomach began to churn, and I had to push it aside. All of that good halibut going to waste.
After a nice dinner, we hit a couple of gift shops and got presents for those at home, then headed back to the room where we collapsed into the bunk.
RSS Feed