NO service. The heat of the sun is forcing its way through the passenger window to press against my cheek. As much as I hate the heat trying to burn a hole in my skin, I’m feeling a settled calm. Part of that comes from being done with the rush around- getting ready, stocking the car with essentials, packing for two and prepping the house for friends who will stop in to check on the kitty.

Roadtrips are never as simple as you think. I know I’m forgetting stuff. I should have been packing two days ago. Oh wait. I didn’t even know about this trip two days ago. Come to think of it, roadtripping can be that simple if I can get everything arranged for three people and be out the door in a day and half.

Passengering to Lake Powell for the first weekend in May. It’s our first roadtrip of the season. Last year was a different story with day after day of epic powder at Snowbird I had no desire to leave. This year, it’s the opposite. I have no desire to ski. Instead, it’s off to the water we go to learn to houseboat, to relish the 80 degree temps, to morph jagged snowcapped mountains into raw redrock desert.

The call came two days ago. Slots had opened up for the houseboat course and did I want to rally? Hmmm. We had yard sales, tickets to Derby Day at High West, a Cinco de Mayo party and plans to ski with friends. Did I want to bag all that for a 5 hour roadtrip, a free stay at Defiance Lodge, driving a houseboat and powerboat around the Lake and a welcome invitation to bring my five year old. Yes.

1p.m. and now it’s nearly 6p.m. and we’re not there. 40 more miles. Never make specific plans with people at your final destination. You’re bound to be late. Like that old saying- Half the fun of your trip is your journey. We stopped in Salt Lake for gas and lunch. In Price for the bathroom and in Hanksville for Milk and birthday cake mix. Yep it’s my bday this weekend- Cinco de Mayo actually and I can’t think of better way to celebrate than out of town away from that dreaded question- how old are you? Wtf does it matter, is what I say in my head. J

So we make a cake, clink some Provo Girl and call it good from the bow of the 54-foot Escape.

Hello, Lake Powell!

It came late this year; just like the snow. My annual dash to Jackson Hole, Wyo.. It’s only a 4.5 hour drive from Park City. Utah, but it’s miles away. I once did Jackson in one day- complete with the après party at the Mangy Moose with some cute drunken skibums before crawling back into the car and arriving home by 11 p.m. Roundtrip totaled 17 hours. Not to say I wouldn’t do something wild like that again but there better be a lot of snow and open terrain.

Jackson’s marketing machine was sending out regular mountain reports throughout the holidays to tease us snow-starved ski junkies, but with a base depth not much more than ours in Utah I had to believe that most of the word was propaganda. Locals’ reports confirmed that the skiing wasn’t all that, so I waited. Where I would have had 40 days under my belt by now, I sat at 20- maybe. There is, however, one thing that gets me motivated even when I’ve been such a slacker of late. Jackson’s steeps camp. I missed the one in early January. Pass. Now, smack over Valentine’s Day, the mountain was showing a little love in the form of a surprise squall that dropped 8 inches.

I booked a condo at my favorite Jackson hideout- the Spring Creek Ranch; halfway between Teton Village and the town of Jackson. The Resort is hosting me for the second year in a row but I wouldn’t go back if it wasn’t a killer spot to crash.

You get a lot for your money if you time it right (i.e. midweek, non holiday)- about $200/nt including discounted lift tickets, and free breakfast and dinner in the quiet rustic elegance of the Granary Restaurant.  There’s also a small spa, indoor and outdoor hottubs and free wireless internet.

But it’s the location that rocks. The homesite community sits on a hilltop for nearly 360 degrees of spectacular views and serenity. The drive in either direction takes about 20 easy minutes.

Time to hit the road. We packed up the car with the essentials.

My first roadtrip of the winter season and already my Escort radar detector has saved my butt twice. There is no surer way to harsh a vacation than to get a speeding ticket. No matter how much fun you have post police, you have that sizeable fine and points on your record hanging over your head. Plus, it’s not like you’re going to go back to fight it. You will feel defeated in addition to pissed. The best defense is a good offense. My Escort mounts on my windshield with two small suction cups and if anyone asks, the mount looks just like one for a GPS receiver. In fact it does work with GPS technology to eliminate false alarms. The “AutoLearn” feature will mute out zones that regularly give off a false signal so you aren’t bothered. The detector sounds when a radar or laser is in range and flashes your current speed on the display. You have plenty of time to slow down. It also comes pre-loaded with red light and photo speed camera locations- yes, they use them in Utah. And you can go online and download updates.

When you consider that one speeding ticket averages $200, the $499 investment is worth every penny. Remember all of that construction on I-80 near downtown Salt Lake City? I’ve been using my radar since 2009 when I was busted for doing 75 in a 55 construction zone near 1300 east. I wasn’t going that fast but try to fight that one in Salt Lake County and win. Not going to happen. I did community service and used the ‘fine’ money to purchase my new road buddy.

We checked in safe and sound. More roadtrip gear and a Jackson review tomorrow.

I don’t think I would really have done it- Go home early. But ooh for a minute it was a brilliant, realistic idea. Here we were, all three of us, Sage crying and fussing, Ryan trying to explain to her why she was acting like Satan and me yelling at Ryan to give her a time out and walk away. It was quite a scene and not one I’m necessarily proud of. She’s tired, long day, over stimulated. I don’t care what the excuse I was so ready to walk away myself. Nothing, I mean nothing was stopping Sage from being the bitch child from hell.

Snow White Praying For Us.

Last night we deplaned and checked into The Travelodge Roach Motel. It was midnight. She was crying and refusing to sit still while we got our keys. Inside the room she wanted to jump on the beds and “play”. We told her no, that it was time to sleep and she threw her pillow at me. So I took all her pillows away, told her she wasn’t getting them back and turned off the lights. She cried for ten minutes then passed out. In the morning she asked to ride a roller coaster and we told her because of how she acted the night before, we weren’t go to any of the parks. We checked into the Port Orleans Riverside and spent the afternoon at Downtown Disney. We wandered in and out of the shops as we waited for our room to be ready and for Ryan’s parents to arrive. Every store brought on another tantrum because in every store she wanted us to buy her something and we said no. We kept telling her that we would put it on Santa’s list so she better be good. A couple of things might come her way toward the end of the week if she behaved, we added. She still acted like a spoiled brat. She even scratched Ryan on his arm. Don’t get me wrong, there were some good moments but the terror far outweighed the cute. Finally, Ryan told me he was done and that I could leave my key card with him and go home. That’s when I called US Airways to check on flights. And that’s when Sage started to cry and beg me not to leave. I really did want to go home at this point. It was all a mess. I’m not a mother. A mother would know how to handle this situation. All I wanted to do was pull a Marie Osmond.

I walked up to Sage and asked her if she knew why I wanted to leave. She said because she was being bad. I told her that her behavior was making me fight with Ryan and I didn’t like fighting. She promised to be good. And she was. Dreamy even. Until after dinner. We had a lovely and ear-numbingly loud meal at Raglan Road in Downtwn Disney, finishing up at 10:30p. Sage wanted to play with our phones. No. Tomorrow. She wanted to go swimming. No, tomorrow. She wanted someone to dance with her in the middle of the restaurant. No. She wanted to stay up and play when we got back to the hotel room. No, it’s bed time. And, no, we didn’t use the word ‘no’. We tried to respond like the books say. Offering alternatives; saying yes you can swim tomorrow, etc. But that didn’t stop her from getting bratty. Ugh.

Tomorrow we’re supposed to do breakfast with the princesses at Epcot. Maybe we should find a breakfast with the witches. Can you tell I’ve lost my cool??