Anyone who drives across Kansas quickly realizes nodding, weaving and endemic boredom are your enemy. I purchased an audio book before leaving to keep me company titled "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. It was, ironically, set in the same geographic region I would be traveling through. The book and the story lived up to its reputation. I have wanted to read it for several years but have not had the time.
The dogs were doing great. Heidi was in a mild panic for the first two hours but a panic is normal for her. Quincy was sleepy and quiet for most of the trip. He would whine if he needed a break and slurp up his water and food without giving it a second thought.
We rolled into Salina about 9:00 p.m. local time. I unloaded and took all of the equipment upstairs. Equipment includes a wire crate for Quincy, blankets, my clothes, dog food and a raincoat.
Q walks in the door and ten minutes later he is itching, scratching and digging at his head and neck. Upon closer inspection, the poor guy has a rash on his head and neck. It might be a reaction to cleaning products in the hotel room or something he walked through outside. Nonetheless, I give the poor dog two benydril hoping to head anything nasty off and give him (and myself) a good nights' rest.
Another ten minutes later Q is digging at his backside. If you don't have large dogs you might have never experienced the wonderful joy of having to expel their anal glands. Q normally doesn't have problems with them but tonight was his night. In the absence of a more technical description, I will just say it is gross and most people would prefer to pay their vet to do it. Normally I would too.
Ten more minutes later I turned on the heater in the room. It was chilly and I wanted to take a shower and not freeze. Apparently no one had turned on the heater in months because the dust in the heater momentarily ignited and set the smoke alarm off. Beep beep beep..........
Sigh.
Despite the meds poor Q itched and thumped around in his crate all night. He seemed better in the morning. Heidi was probably the only one who got any sleep. She sprawled out on the opposite side of the king-sized bed using the extra set of pillows for her backside instead of her head.
Saturday morning brought a nasty bagel and cream cheese from the hotel's continental breakfast. I am still not sure why they call it continental breakfast. The morning also brought thunder, lightening and pouring rain. I realize Accuweather has nominal usefulness in this part of the country, but I really wasn't expecting a winterlike wet blanket over the weekend.
My car intermittedly flashed the 'service engine soon' light. I read in the GMC manual the service light indicates an improper emissions mixture. My car is calibrated to run at 7000 ft., not 3000 ft. - it is, literally, choking on the richness of the air.
The show went fine both days, as good as could be expected for Q. Heidi won and Q acted his itchy age and could not focus longer than a flea. No one could blame the poor guy.
I came to the conclusion there is only one espresso shop in Salina which is a town of approximately 55,000 people. If you visit, it's called Capers and it's at the northwest corner of Iron St. and Santa Fe St., downtown. Starbucks has not entered their lexicon yet. I would imagine the coffee phenomenon hasn't reached there for many reasons, namely, the people there do not strike me as the type who drink lattes. Their coffee tastes like water with mesquite chips and chicory floating in it. Their water is also its own culinary delight, slight less caustic tasting than baking soda with water in it. The ladies at Capers made a nice latte though, and their pastries were very flaky and sweet.
A chatty waiter at a local Mexican eatery "Gutierrez" filled me in on local trivia and history. Salina can boast itself as the hometown of "Tony's Pizza", fluorescent lightbulb manufacturing and the main call center for AllTel. They also have a newly remodeled museum which apparently was something to boast about. I didn't make it over there, maybe next time.
Between the local flavor, ribbons at the dog show, and a great three hour nap, my weekend went well. There, however, was one exception I feel compelled to gripe about. I would like to extend an extra special thanks to the person who did not pick up after their dog at the hotel. You made my evening odious and unforgettable as I tried to get your dogs' horrible leavings out of my Columbia hikers. I realize I could just buy new shoes, but I'm not a rich person and I expect my car, my shoes and my cell phones to last. I wish you poop on your shoes - the smelliest most horrible poop you can imagine. Most of all I hope it is your own dogs' poop you didn't pick up.