My Man in Chelan

     My impressions of Chelan, Washington would have been vastly different if I was still in the first motel reserved for us. My husband is here for six days of contract work on an airplane restoration project. The project manager booked us a room at the Riverwalk Inn. It was built in 1918 and what they described as a major remodel on the website mostly meant it has indoor plumbing and electricity. We were greeted by a musty smell and a front desk gal who gave us a key to our designated dingy room. Among the many amenities it did not have--space, view, first-hand furniture--was a microwave. So she sent us to a second floor room where there was a microwave--in the hallway. Early in our marriage, I might have been so desperate to travel that I would be willing to stay in a tiny, dumpy cell/room for a week. But the years and the Lord have been good to us and my standards for hotel stays have risen beyond the Riverwalk Inn. I was willing to walk out, into the river, if necessary.

    Chelan seems to think they are too classy for plebeian chain restaurants and hotels, but I had spotted a nice looking place on our way to the Frump Dump so we left to look for it. Fortunately, this is the off season in Chelan--way off, 5000 residents becomes 25000 in summer--so the room rate was not much more than at the RunAway Inn. I was willing to sell my fillings to pay the difference. Even the regular rooms at the Lakeside Lodge were triple the size of our suite at the Sleep Slum and had my favorite feature--a balcony. Reed, who has taken a shine to me over 43 years, even upgraded to a suite overlooking Lake Chelan. 

     And that's why, even though I have not seen much of the town, it snowed yesterday, and I have only eaten at one unremarkable cafe, I still have a good impression of Chelan--not to mention my man.