Hmmm - I spoke too soon about the lack of snow. And I've angered the Gods.
Today's Plan A – Air & Nature:
Bounce out of bed early; cruise around the lake; gasp lungfuls of crisp mountain air; marvel at clear blue skies; retire to bed early, happily exhausted by Mother Nature.
RUINED by horizontal sleet and head-numbing gales.
Today's Revised Plan B – Meat & Boobs:
Watch mind-numbing TV in hotel room all day; drive across the mountain to South Tahoe for a meaty dinner and a fishy show – namely 'Lipstick', ‘a smokin' erotic rock extravaganza'. Retire to bed late, happily exhausted by Cheri, Mercedes, Angel, Juanita etc.
RUINED by…
Not Something I Would Plan At All:
Set off on Plan B, slightly freaked by orange flashing lights advocating ‘snow tyres or chains’. Get a flat at the State Line; spend two hours trying to call breakdown services before the cell runs out of batteries, having left one hopeful message with a man in Las Vegas called Bruce who sounds like a drunk 5 year old.
Wait two more hours shivering in the now snow-capped (leaking) convertible before curmudgeonly ‘rescue dude’ turns up and tries to pretend that we don’t have a flat tyre at all, preferring the warmth of his tow-truck to the polar conditions. Use dollars intended for Californian strippers to persuade him to get out his jack and crank it up. Crawl back to base on perilous roads at 5mph, Sandra mumbling all the way home about being eaten by a Yeti.
Retire to bed hungry and cold, two soggy ‘Lipstick’ tickets crumpled by the bed.
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