Various Writings

WESTWARD HO!

- being the True and Compleat accounting of the author's journey westward, beyond Pike's Peak; the which gained him, and his wife, membership in that most elite group of western Travellers - Pike's Peak Busters.

by: C.J. Van Becelaere

Chapter the Third - Musical Accommodations wherein our protagonists find themselves transported to various lodgings

        Arriving in Denver, we collected our baggage and wandered purposefully about,
hoping to find lodging for the night.
        With the utmost convenience, we were able to make reservations at the local Travel
Lodge for both bed and transportation. Waiting for their coach to arrive turned minutes
into hours, as every other hotel, motel, hostelry, and boarding-house retrieved their
respective clients in their respective vehicles. Finally, having waited far longer than
we had ever intended, we returned to a different reservation center than that which we had
originally used.
        "What's this? Travel Lodge is actually Number 15! It isn't Number 5, as the other
board had it listed! We have actually reserved lodging with the local Ramada Inn!"

No sooner had this realization been reached, than we were hurrying back out to the
transportation boarding area, intent upon our new goal - the Ramada Inn!
Immediately we had placed our bags on the ground, there arrived a coach bearing
the Ramada name: we swiftly stowed our gear and boarded. No sooner were we under weigh,
than another Ramada Inn coach arrived, and with the address we had expected displayed
proudly upon its side!

"If," said I to Heidi, "If this seems an unseemly place for our stay, we shall
simply ride this conveyance back to the airport and re-board a different vehicle."

Not surprisingly, at this juncture in our narration, we did, indeed, find this inn
to be less than acceptable, by a factor of, perhaps, two to three. Accordingly, we were
most graciously afforded transport to that inn which we had deemed to be the most
appropriate. Somewhat ironically, the next morning, as we set ourselves to depart, we
came to discover that this was, in all likelihood, not our original destination, but
rather yet another Ramada Inn near the airport.
Barely surpressing self-deprecating laughter at this entire comedy of errors, I
paid the bill, and we were once again on our way to Santa Fe, and less than twenty-four
hours late, at that!

In the next chapter, dear reader, we will detail some of the more noteworthy
occurrences of our somewhat shortened stay in Santa Fe.

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