All Pinked Out

Six weeks ago Senor was receiving attention for the pads on his paws, and was asked by the podiatrist if he planned to go to the “Big”TR show being held that upcoming  weekend  in Campbell River( a four-hour drive from our kennel) He returned home ,told me about the show, and then declared that he was not interested in going. The day prior to the event he changed his mind, as older dogs are known to do,  and then the frantic search for accommodation began. Keep in mind that this was  high season on Vancouver Island and the only room I could find anywhere near the venue was $ 85.00. The exceptionally low price caused me some concern but there was no other option. What the heck , it was only one night in our lives.

This was Friday afternoon at two o’clock and we sprung into action like a couple of scalded cats (a vision we love) to beat the traffic heading north on the highway. Off we went in Mr. Sunny Days, and when we arrived at our destination, we were a rather pinkish colour, sweating and hungry. Top down all the way, and Senor declined the offer of lip balm as it is a bitch thing. Keep this in mind for when I get to the “I told you so “part.

Saturday morning in the venue there were about 125 TR’s  from  the Western States and Provinces, lined up for inspection and awe.  I had never been to a gathering like a car show. I was a bit conflicted. Is the show about people showing off what they were able to spend their money on ? or gathering to visit and obtain information and ideas from those with the same interests ?  It appeared that most of the owners were our age (those awful aging baby boomers). There was  a profusion of grey hair and people saying “pardon me” as in they are going deaf.  We purchased  our baseball hats, inquired regarding  registration for Mr. Sunny Days for next year’s show in Washington State, and then hit the road to lunch in the town of Comox. Once again top down, blazing sun ,and no lip balm for one of the passengers in the car. We enjoyed a great meal at the marina.

We return to Campbell River (once the salmon fishing capital of the WORLD) and drive to our destination. Oh boy, from the outside it looks like something you would find in the less attractive areas of Surrey. The main building seemed to be a liquor store, and there was a tiny entrance to the motel. I am greeted by a charming gentleman who had limited English. Now, normally when you check into a motel, you are advised that there is no smoking and you have to initial the registration acknowledging  that if you fail to comply with this rule, there will be a cleaning fee of $ 250.00 charged to your account. This gentleman does not go into the no smoking thing at all , he tells me that if they have to call the police because of us there will be a $ 500 dollar charge.  Pardon ? What are we checking into ? Meanwhile, Senor is sitting in the car furtively looking  at the building and parking lot and wondering who will guard the car all night. I complete the registration process and go fetch Senor. After leaving the front desk lobby area,  we walk outside  into a lovely garden on the river. We proceed to our  beyond immaculate room. I swear that the sheets sparkled. We are stunned.  This particular hotel/motel/lodge had been a big deal in the 50’s and 60’s with the Hollywood set and in the lobby there are many black and white framed pictures of famous faces  displaying their catch. It had history! It had an amazing restaurant that you could not see from the road! Stunned again.

Sunday morning we head home. There is a parade of TR’s on the Malahat. Did I mention that it was top down for the return trip ? I just wanted to check. We were delighted with ourselves and how adventurous we had been. Young pups heading out on a road trip without a care in the world (well sort of ) Able to get in and out of the car with out the car cane. (An Obus form might have been nice) No medical appointments on the horizon. Was that not what being retired was all about ? This is what we worked for !We stop at the Dairy Queen in Ladysmith which has a working jukebox with 60’s tunes. Ice cream treats for Sunday lunch. Perfect.

We arrive home and notice that Senor’s lips look like those of someone who has been overzealous with the plumping injections. Later in the afternoon the large starlet lips exploded. I am talking blood. I should have taken a shaming picture. Lesson learned about sunburn. Now we know why the previous owner had left a tube of lip balm in the glove compartment of the car….