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  Home Page » Opinion » Columnists » My Turn » Friend Shines During Vacation In Rainstorm

Friend shines during vacation in rainstorm

by Charlie Langdon
My Turn Can you call this a vacation?
Laura and I left for Santa Fe on Friday morning. It rained all the way down. That's more than 200 miles. We arrived after dark, and a job that was difficult became impossible.

We had no idea where we were. We stopped every chance we had to ask directions. Everyone was cooperative, saying "go this way, go that way, turn left, turn right. You can't miss it."

What we couldn't miss was the El Rey Inn, where we had stayed on many previous occasions. We were about to give up and take a room in any motel we ran across, when a young man in a gas station store said, "Look, the El Rey is no more than four miles from here. What we have to do is call a taxi cab, tell him where you want to go. Then follow him to the El Rey."

The cab arrived and we set off, while I laughed at the thought, "Follow that cab!" We pulled up at the Inn, went inside and registered. I paid the cabbie and added a large tip.

Both Laura and I were shaking with cold. All we wanted to do was find our room and crawl into bed. A round Hispanic man with a big smile kept saying "follow me, here we are, here we are."

We began unpacking the car. I stumbled around from the car to the room and back again, telling myself to just keep
moving. This nightmare soon will be over. It was a pleasant room, but I didn't care. It had a roof and was dry.

I had a beer, and then Laura and I fell in bed and slept right through to morning.

The next day, after breakfast, we phoned our friends Ava and Tova. They both knew where the El Rey was, but it took them some time to arrive.

Once they did, we began having many laughs. We had seen Ava a few weeks before at Ghost Ranch, but we hadn't seen Tova in many years. Hence, there was much to talk about.

Ava suggested we go out to dinner at La Chosa, where we had eaten many years before. The place was crowded as usual. Ava brought along a friend or two from the Ranch, as well as some other people we didn't know.

The company was jolly; the food was excellent. I ordered the enchilada specialty plate. It was the best Mexican food I'd had in years. It was a warm moment with many laughs. Laura and I still were unwinding from our endless journey.

After eating, we all drove to Ava's house for a nightcap and more laughs. It was apparent nobody really wanted to go home. But the time came, and we returned to El Rey while Tova went home.

At the El Rey, Ava said, "I'll be here tomorrow right after breakfast. I'll then lead you out of town on Highway 84."

The next morning, the sky was clear, and Ava arrived and said, "I'll drive you up 84 to the northern end of Espanola." She did so, and pulled off the road a few yards north of Anthony's Restaurant, where a lot of people from Ghost Ranch come down to eat.

We said goodbye for now to Ava, and she said, "Call me when you get home."

We drove up to Bode's store, stopped to pick up something to eat and then continued north to Chama and Pagosa Springs. By the time we reached the Springs, I was so tired all I could see were cars whizzing by. I was dizzy, and somewhat afraid I might drift into oncoming traffic.

I splashed water on my face, and wandered around, swinging my arms. I had a bite of food and wandered some more.

Then we were off. I drove about 60 miles an hour gripping the steering wheel, telling myself, just keep going, keep going, we'll soon be there.

Laura talked to me, so I'd stay alert and awake. She fed me water and a few crackers.

We rolled into Durango and raced for home. We arrived in late afternoon.

Laura called Ava to tell her we were home. We both talked to her saying, "Ava we love you." And we do. What a friend!
Charlie Langdon is the Herald's senior critic. He can be reached at langdons@gobrainstorm.net.