We woke up at the ass crack of dawn. I donâ€™t swear much here in the blog but it was rootinâ€™ tootinâ€™ early. It was so early, that the ass crack of dawn didnâ€™t show its ass crack until Iâ€™d been up for about three and a half hours. Ridiculous. Anyway, I fashioned Frank a healthful sandwich of peanut butter (scooped from the container with a pen cap â€“ desperate times and allâ€¦.) on two old chewy pieces of bread leftover from Disneyland. Only the finest for us! He did his best to wrestle through the gourmet treat I provided and we headed back to Zuma for the race. Frank set up his bike and many other swim/bite/run accessories for ease of outfit change between sections of the race. He took a quick dip to test out the water to find it lovely and refreshing. 60-degree water can be very refreshing at 6am before the sun comes up!
Frank swam/biked/ran well. I cheered well also (and made a few friends who helped too). I also cheered â€œThe Shovelerâ€ from Mystery Men, who has a very shaggy haircut right now, and Topangaâ€™s father in law whoâ€™s hair is not shaggy but grey and thinning. I also had the pleasure of seeing a full harem of ladies swarming David Dukovney (sp?) as if he were young, handsome, or involved in a current/successful program. Ridiculous. I saw some man who is apparently in a show called two or three and a half men that Iâ€™ve never seen. He beat the â€œstudâ€ David Dukovney and this is apparently a decade worth of competition finally completed. Regardless of the victor, the ladies did not care, they love X Men or X Files or whatever he was in with the aliens and Scully or Mulder or that show where he played one of those people and never got around to kissing the otherâ€¦. In more important news, Frank finished in under two hours which was his goal so heâ€™s the ultimate champion in my eyes and even though heâ€™s 30 now, heâ€™s still younger than those men or any of the gold digging ladies chasing them. “Silicone beauties” as described by Frank! After the race was through I had my hair cut for a generous donation by the fanciest man alive who introduced me to his boyfriend (or sweetie as he referred to him). Yes, of course, my hair looks great.
Frank re-charged and we headed north to the Sequoia National Park. The drive was long but by the time we reached the Park Entrance the sun had started to set. It was recommended that we have reservations for dinner but since cell phones donâ€™t work in Sequoia country we had to stop at the visitorâ€™s center on our way up the hill to use a pay phone. I remembered my Kanga Velcro-pouch shoes that always held my trusty in-case-of-emergency quarter vividly as we tried repeatedly to make a call on the seemingly easy-to-use payphone. The third time is the charm because thatâ€™s how many times it took us to figure out how to use the pay phone. Also, in case you were wondering, it now costs 50 cents to make a local (7-diget) call. Ridiculous. We made it up the hour and 20-minute hill 23 mile trip (itâ€™s crazy), which includes a 20-minute siesta light (anything is possible in California) in time to see the sun set during that drive up the steep and winding hill to check into Wuksachi Lodge, our new home away from homeâ€¦ at least for the next day and a half. Though the drive was truly ridiculous, it was well worth the trip. The staff at the Lodge were really, thoughtful, friendly, and helpful. A second story room in the nicest building was recommended so we agreed and checked in.
The lodge itself was rustic, beautiful, and was thoughtfully placed underneath more stars than weâ€™ve ever seen. We closed out the night by enjoying a delicious dinner in the only restaurant at Wuksachi Lodge (and on that side of the mountain) with an accompanying bottle of locally made Riesling and off to bed we went.
Sleeping time! Gâ€™night!