A Motel at the Confluence of Two Roads.

The motel had no laundry. Too tired to care, I washed my riding clothes in the shower. Outside a strong, hot wind was still blowing. I hoped the last hour of daylight would be enough to dry them, as I hung my clothes on the communal line.

We had decided to stop in this two shop confluence of roads, so I could climb Lewis Pass in the cool of the next morning. For three days in a row now we had battled a strong, hot head wind for the last twenty kilometers of each day. It was beginning to wear thin but the sight of a motel and a café connected to it had buoyed our spirits; tomorrow was an eager anticipation.

The food in the café was just what we needed, big, hot and flavorsome, served with bigger and hotter chips. I harbour a latent desire to return to this café when I am fresh, nor tired, sun burnt or windblown, just to see if the “Alpine Big Burger” is as delicious as it was that night. Somehow I have a feeling I will be disappointed, but to its designer and constructors credit, it did its job that night.

Fed, washed, with our cloths quickly dried, we turned in. The sounds of the day receded, the wind dropped away, darkness enveloped our small complex. I was just falling into a well-earned sleep when the first rat ran across our motel ceiling. I could not see it, but I knew the sound. I hate rats in fact I am terrified of rats. Do not share an important secret with me, for your adversary or my interrogator, would only have to say the word, “RAT,” and I make no apology, your card would be marked, resulting in you being woken one dark night by a knocking on your door, to then disappear into a dark unmarked car……..

 “Ok” I thought “one rat, I can handle this, soon I will be asleep,” but no, one was soon joined by two, then three. How do I know this? You ask, trust me, being a fervent rataphobe I knew. By three in the morning the rat festivities had reached a crescendo with what sounded like an organised race across our ceiling. This was not any old race, but a heavy weight derby with some very closely matched participants pushing for a glorious win. The finish must have been breath taking for all watching, with three heavy weights going down to the wire, two falling as they crossed, oh how the crowd cheered their display of speed and power.

It was draining for all involved; slowly the crowd dispersed the last making their way home as the sun was breaking over the distant hills, the very hills I was destined to climb in a few hours. Turning, I pulled the sheets over my head and fell into a fitful slumber.