Lewis and Clark, the Lost Episodes, Part II

Cousin Danny was a bit nervous about driving in Denver. Realistically I don’t think he’d ever driven in a town larger than Billings, MT, population not-so-much (okay, maybe 100,000), so he called us to ask that we stop to gas up and discuss our strategy for finding the hotel and hospital.

We pulled in to the Little America Truck Stop in Cheyenne, Wyoming at around 2 pm. Having been to Denver many times, I knew that our window of opportunity for an easy trip through the city was already closed. It would be bumper to bumper, and in some cases, bumper in bumper traffic all the way. I warned Danny that we would have to try to stick together as best we could, and he agreed to stay on my tail all the way.

Things went pretty well at first. Danny followed so closely that I joked he was channeling me. I bobbed, he bobbed. I weaved, he weaved. The traffic got thicker and thicker. I bobbed, he weaved. YIKES! I slowed way down (easier said than done in 6 full lanes of traffic—I know I’m preaching to the choir here to all of you urban dwellers, but I’m a country chick with not a whole lot of city driving experience and Cousin Dan had even less), hoping that he would find his way to us. No sign of him. I was so busy watching the rear-view mirror that I missed our exit.

CRAP!

Kay grabbed my cell and tried to call. No answer.

DOUBLE CRAP!

The only thing we could do was go to the next exit and try to backtrack, hoping and praying that Dan and Dale were having better luck than us.

Backtracking…easier said than done for Lewis and Clark. Somehow our canoe got pointed the wrong way and we ended up at Denver International Airport. How, oh how, did we do that, you ask? Well, personally I’m blaming Mapquest. I mean, really, go south for .7 miles….if I knew which direction south was, I wouldn’t be lost now, would I? Have they ever heard of right and left? Apparently not! After visiting D.I.A., we had a nice drive-by of the Denver Zoo and the federal prison. We also found a rather nifty lake with rustic rest room facilities (which were badly needed).

After a really long time (I’m too embarrassed to say exactly how long) we gave up on finding the hotel and decided (to try to) find the hospital and then use the directions the hospital sent us to get to the hotel. How difficult could it be to find Presbyterian Saint Luke's Hospital? We knew what street it was on and Kay had been to the hospital across the street from it. Sounds relatively simple, doesn’t it?

WRONG!

To be continued…