Journal Entries From the Road
So far, this trip is not going smoothly! The trip across the pass was Hell (well, maybe the day the snowball froze). And my hotel…! But first the trip.
The roads were clear until I’d passed North Bend and was quite close to the summit. But then it started to rain. Those roads get a lot of traffic and a lot of snow, so they are plowed and salted often during the winter. Consequently, by this time of year, the lane markings are long gone (it’s three-lane most of the way, and it curves through the mountains, not like West Virginia, but still…). To make matters worse, my windshield wipers are not great.
So I’m driving along at 70 mph (AT the speed limit, I’ll have you know, rather than 10 miles over like everyone else) around 9 p.m., and all the sudden I’m in the middle of a hard rain and can’t see the road. Literally. I slowed down, of course, but for about 10 miles, it felt like I was creeping down the road by Braille.
The only saving grace was that there was very little traffic, and everybody slowed down (which tells you how bad it was). In fact, the car behind me had very bright lights, and I kept hoping he’d come around me, but even when I got down to 45 mph, he didn’t move. He stuck right behind me (safe traveling distance, thank goodness) during the whole bad time, and as soon as the rain was gone and we were back where the lane markings were still visible, he passed me and flew ahead. I realized he was driving as blindly as I was and just following my lead. It was an odd feeling. But we made it safely.
Then, I got to the hotel. This is going down as one of the worst hotel experiences I’ve had.
First, let me tell you that Mars spoils me (you’ve probably already picked up on this). He always makes the reservations for me, and it’s never Motel 6 (I’m stingy; when I make them, I think I’m splurging if I add two and go Super 8). It’s usually a business class suite, with a living room and kitchen, a fireplace, and a full breakfast served every day.
Well, this time, he couldn’t find a room in Ellensburg, but he found a little B&B seven miles outside of town. It was in the country, beautifully appointed and had a private balcony. I’d link to it, but I don’t want to reflect badly upon it.
Because, you see, they double-booked me. They called Tuesday night to say they’d made a mistake and didn’t have a room after all. The guy had called all over E-burg and managed to find ONE room, but it was smoking. He was very sweet and very apologetic and said it had never happened before.
So Mars called the hotel, and they must have had a cancellation because he was able to get me a non-smoking room (albeit with two queen beds). So…no problem right?
A little background here. When we got married, Mars told me he rates all hotels on three things: plenty of hot water, lots of thick, thirsty towels and an extremely firm mattress. We’ve since added two-ply toilet paper to the list.
First of all, the clerk directed me to “Entrance #3,” to the second floor. I walked in Entrance 3 with my laptop and my suitcase, but I cannot find a staircase. I finally find one, but it’s right next to Entrance 4. Later, when I’m reading the hotel literature in the room, I read that “Entrance 3 is not accessible to the second floor.” Uh….OK.
The room itself is very dark. I’m sitting right by the window, with the curtains pulled back and every single lamp on, and it’s still quite dark. The window only opens right at the floor, and it does not have a screen (good thing I didn’t bring a baby). The room isn’t even clean. I found a strawberry hull and several sunflower seed shells on the bathroom floor; the floor hadn’t been swept (or at least not well). The sunflower seeds totally squick me out; they were probably in someone’s mouth. *shudders*
On the phone, we asked how big the table in the room was because I need to spread papers out to work, and the guy said it was “medium-sized.” Well, my laptop covers easily a quarter of the space. There’s only just enough room for the computer, one sheet of paper (laid straight-it doesn’t fit if it’s canted) and my glass of Sobe.
The toilet-paper is the thinnest one-ply you can buy (I’ll bet they had to put out bids to get paper this thin). There are plenty of towels, but they are rough and coarse, and the bath towel doesn’t even reach around my back to cover both shoulders. Yes, I’m a big girl, but this towel was small by anybody’s standards.
When I sat on the bed, the bottom sheet immediately came untucked. Either it’s too small for the bed, or the bed wasn’t made well. I chose to sleep in the bed farthest from the table, thinking I’d use the second bed to spread my papers out since the "medium-sized" table was so small. But when I crawled into bed, it sagged in the middle. Honestly, it was as gushy as my belly immediately post-partum. Ugh! I moved to the other bed, and it was much better although the edges of this mattress were broken, so if I tried to sit on the edge of the bed, I tended to slide off.
THEN, I had to take a cold shower. OK, tepid, but I was chilled by the time I finished because the heat lamp was only bright, not warm.
Now, I’m grumpy.
You can certainly say I’m too picky (and I know that’s true, although I prefer the term “spoiled”), but this was not a cheap hotel, and I’ve stayed in hotels enough to know what’s a minimum standard, and this ain’t it, honey. Plus, the hotel advertises that it’s the “only full-service hotel in Ellensburg” (oops, I just gave it away, didn’t I?), so I would definitely expect more of them than this.
Now...uh, waiter! Can I have a little cheese with my whine?
The roads were clear until I’d passed North Bend and was quite close to the summit. But then it started to rain. Those roads get a lot of traffic and a lot of snow, so they are plowed and salted often during the winter. Consequently, by this time of year, the lane markings are long gone (it’s three-lane most of the way, and it curves through the mountains, not like West Virginia, but still…). To make matters worse, my windshield wipers are not great.
So I’m driving along at 70 mph (AT the speed limit, I’ll have you know, rather than 10 miles over like everyone else) around 9 p.m., and all the sudden I’m in the middle of a hard rain and can’t see the road. Literally. I slowed down, of course, but for about 10 miles, it felt like I was creeping down the road by Braille.
The only saving grace was that there was very little traffic, and everybody slowed down (which tells you how bad it was). In fact, the car behind me had very bright lights, and I kept hoping he’d come around me, but even when I got down to 45 mph, he didn’t move. He stuck right behind me (safe traveling distance, thank goodness) during the whole bad time, and as soon as the rain was gone and we were back where the lane markings were still visible, he passed me and flew ahead. I realized he was driving as blindly as I was and just following my lead. It was an odd feeling. But we made it safely.
Then, I got to the hotel. This is going down as one of the worst hotel experiences I’ve had.
First, let me tell you that Mars spoils me (you’ve probably already picked up on this). He always makes the reservations for me, and it’s never Motel 6 (I’m stingy; when I make them, I think I’m splurging if I add two and go Super 8). It’s usually a business class suite, with a living room and kitchen, a fireplace, and a full breakfast served every day.
Well, this time, he couldn’t find a room in Ellensburg, but he found a little B&B seven miles outside of town. It was in the country, beautifully appointed and had a private balcony. I’d link to it, but I don’t want to reflect badly upon it.
Because, you see, they double-booked me. They called Tuesday night to say they’d made a mistake and didn’t have a room after all. The guy had called all over E-burg and managed to find ONE room, but it was smoking. He was very sweet and very apologetic and said it had never happened before.
So Mars called the hotel, and they must have had a cancellation because he was able to get me a non-smoking room (albeit with two queen beds). So…no problem right?
A little background here. When we got married, Mars told me he rates all hotels on three things: plenty of hot water, lots of thick, thirsty towels and an extremely firm mattress. We’ve since added two-ply toilet paper to the list.
First of all, the clerk directed me to “Entrance #3,” to the second floor. I walked in Entrance 3 with my laptop and my suitcase, but I cannot find a staircase. I finally find one, but it’s right next to Entrance 4. Later, when I’m reading the hotel literature in the room, I read that “Entrance 3 is not accessible to the second floor.” Uh….OK.
The room itself is very dark. I’m sitting right by the window, with the curtains pulled back and every single lamp on, and it’s still quite dark. The window only opens right at the floor, and it does not have a screen (good thing I didn’t bring a baby). The room isn’t even clean. I found a strawberry hull and several sunflower seed shells on the bathroom floor; the floor hadn’t been swept (or at least not well). The sunflower seeds totally squick me out; they were probably in someone’s mouth. *shudders*
On the phone, we asked how big the table in the room was because I need to spread papers out to work, and the guy said it was “medium-sized.” Well, my laptop covers easily a quarter of the space. There’s only just enough room for the computer, one sheet of paper (laid straight-it doesn’t fit if it’s canted) and my glass of Sobe.
The toilet-paper is the thinnest one-ply you can buy (I’ll bet they had to put out bids to get paper this thin). There are plenty of towels, but they are rough and coarse, and the bath towel doesn’t even reach around my back to cover both shoulders. Yes, I’m a big girl, but this towel was small by anybody’s standards.
When I sat on the bed, the bottom sheet immediately came untucked. Either it’s too small for the bed, or the bed wasn’t made well. I chose to sleep in the bed farthest from the table, thinking I’d use the second bed to spread my papers out since the "medium-sized" table was so small. But when I crawled into bed, it sagged in the middle. Honestly, it was as gushy as my belly immediately post-partum. Ugh! I moved to the other bed, and it was much better although the edges of this mattress were broken, so if I tried to sit on the edge of the bed, I tended to slide off.
THEN, I had to take a cold shower. OK, tepid, but I was chilled by the time I finished because the heat lamp was only bright, not warm.
Now, I’m grumpy.
You can certainly say I’m too picky (and I know that’s true, although I prefer the term “spoiled”), but this was not a cheap hotel, and I’ve stayed in hotels enough to know what’s a minimum standard, and this ain’t it, honey. Plus, the hotel advertises that it’s the “only full-service hotel in Ellensburg” (oops, I just gave it away, didn’t I?), so I would definitely expect more of them than this.
Now...uh, waiter! Can I have a little cheese with my whine?