Wallawalla

So, my friend's father competed in the Iron Man Triathlon. It was his first time doing so and therefore my freind Dylan felt it was important to be there, in Penticton.
Problem #1: Dylan doesn't drive
Solution #1: Davies does drive
Problem#2: Davies car is not reliable enough for a road trip
Solution #2: ?
I told Dylan that if he could find a car, I'd drive it. The weekend of the trip rolled around and still nothing. The day before rolled around and still nothing. Then at noon, day of, I finally speak with him and find out we have a vehicle. The thought then occurs to us, that w should try to find a third person. We call up our friend Erin and she agrees. Our departure is set for midnight.
Solution #2: Erin has a good car
Erin however, is appalled by what she finds when we are leaving. She has a duffel bag and more kit in her trunk. Several sets of clothes, blankets, pillows, swim suit and numerous other 'just in case' items. Dylan and I are of another mind. It is 13 hours there, a few hours and then 13 hours back. We figure all we need is what we're wearing, a car, and food money.
Problem #3: Davies and Dylan pack "like guys"
Solution #3: Erin.
To ease her concerns, Dylan and I who are of similar size, take some of his spare clothing.

The drive there is a pleasant mix of nice scenery and moments of stupification. Moments into the trip, our road map is in pieces, several of them, which complicates navigation for the entire trip. We also waste approximately an hour on 'detours' such as missing our turns. We arrive at around 2 o'clock in Penticton and meet up with Dylan's father's Irish girlfriend. We sip, without a hint of irony, on some Starbucks while we wait for him to run past us. Erin and I sit aside while Dylan and...Irish Girl (what was her name again...?) act excited about the situation and take pictures of Dylan's dad (I'm bad with names, don't judge me) runs past. Following these seconds of excitement we explore Penticton (Nice town by the way) and have dinner at a Japanese restaurant. As the sun is setting we decide to go for a swim at Penticton's rather pleasant beach. We arrive (in swimsuits Erin forced us to bring) just after dark and frolic around a bit as we wait for the time when Dylan's dad will run past again and then finish.
When all is said and done, he took 16 hours + a few minutes to finish the Iron Man. We then left around midnight and drove to Kelowna to find a hotel. By the time we actually arrived at the hotel in which we spent the night, it was 3 am. In those 3 hours I learned the following.
I love cookie dough ice cream...or whatever it was that I bought in the Mac's store where we got directions to a different hotel wherein we had planned to stay. That hotel was closed, and so we ended up staying at the Comfort Inn across the street. This Comfort Inn impressed us; not only was it the cheapest room we had found, but the lady behind the counter was terribly helpful and even phoned around for us to see if a cheaper room could b found. One hotel offered a room for one dollar less, but that hardly counts. She upgraded our room for us from one bed to two and we crashed. the room was surprisingly nice, with furniture, sizable beds, flat screen TV and a fridge in which to store my remaining ice cream.
In the morning we departed and headed towards home. The subject of the Radium hotsprings had been bounced around over the first day of the trip and during a stop for some liquid fuel for the car and ourselves, Dylan mentions he saw a sign 'Radium Hotsprings 125 km'. So we figure this sounds good and we drive....and we drive until the sun is setting for the second time on our trip and we are concerned that, engorssed in a discussion of physics, that we have missed the turn. We pull into a visitor information center, which is closed. A nearby trucker, however, proves most helpful in directing us. A relatively short distance later, we see a sign 'Radium Hotsrpings 126 km <--'. Glaring at Dylan only momentarily, we turn and head up a dark, winding mountain road. After what we're almost certain was more than 126 km of driving, we begin to discuss turning around. I catch a glimpse of an LED sign further up the road and decide that before we turn around, I want to know what it says and so continue driving.
"Wolf on road
Do Not Stop."
The sign cycles the message in 2 or 3 languages and, predictably, this begins to dominate the conversation. My companions reconsider their decision of turning back and we are once again all three in agreement. We go to the hot springs. It's growing late and none of us want to be driving all night through the mountains. The plan? Sleep in the car in the hot springs parking lot. We arrive 15 minutes before they close at 11 pm and hunker down to snooze. at 11:30ish an suv pulls in, engine trouble made both obvious and audible by it struggling to turn over and the driver hopping out to peer under the hood. I walk over to see if they need a hand but am proven unnecessary. I ask what happened and he says they broke down about 5 km down the road, got help from a man who pulled over, and rolled their vehicle back here. I mention that based on the LED sign farther down the road, that it is good they made it back here. In the morning, the couple who turned out to be from Washington, don't seem to be up yet; once we return from breakfast though, they are. We therefore offer them a lift into town. Allow me to set the stage for this:
2 American tourists are broken down a few km outside a mountain town. They meet three 19 year olds, two are unshaven (the other is female), two of them look like punks, one in a chain-adorned black tench coat and the other with multichromatically highlighted bleach blonde hair and face full of metal (the third wears glasses, which is arguably worse). Upon being offered a ride into town, the two hop into the car as relaxed as if they were old friends.
The five of us scroll through the introductions, and it turns out the couple are on their honeymoon. Erin and I resist the urge to make reference to "The Perfect Getaway". We continue to chat as we drive them into town, they talk to a mechanic, and we drive them back to their SUV. We then part ways and head into the hot springs.
When we leave, the couple is present only in the note tucked beneath Erin passenger side wiper blade, writ in blue pen upon a scrap of lined 8.5 by 11. It has their names, their phone numbers, and "We live in Wallawalla, Washington, if you're ever in the area you can stay with us."
Following the collective 'awww' from the studio audience, we drive off towards home, planning our next road trip...perhaps to Wallwalla.

Ben Davies
Silent River Kung Fu
Stony Plain, Alberta, Canada
www.silentriverkungfu.com