Of GPS units and snobby towns

So we just got home from two family reunions (more on that later). The latter one was held at a church camp in Garden Valley, Idaho. That’s up along the Payette River in the mountains north of Boise.

We decided since we were already along that area, we would just go home through the Sawtooths. I mentioned this to a family member who insisted that I borrow his spare GPS system. I politely declined, as I haven’t had the best experiences with nav systems in the past. Yet he persisted, telling me that his GPS was state-of-the art, easy to use, etc, etc… Well, since I didn’t want to buy a map, I accepted.

I instructed the GPS system to guide me to Sun Valley. And it did ok. We traveled through some of the most beautiful country in the world. Going over Galena Summit was seriously breathtaking. I hadn’t been through there since I was a kid.

We pulled into Ketchum about 5:30 pm. That’s when all heck broke loose. Side note: Apparently, my grammar check system is correcting me—that’s when all hecks broke loose. Sider note: Apparently, my spell check system is now correcting me—hecks is not a word. Sidest note: Apparently, sider and sidest are also not words. But I digress.

ElBoyo and ElKiddo both adamantly informed me that they were very hungry. ElGirlo would also have informed me that she was hungry if she had been awake.

I thought well, I’ll just grab some fast food and be on my way. I drove all through town looking for a fast food joint. NONE. So I drove through again looking for a family restaurant. NONE. Finally, I woke up ElGirlo and we parked in downtown Ketchum (not to be confused with Ketchup. ElBoyo asked.) We began walking along looking for a place to grab a bite.

Now please understand that Ketchum has at least a hundred restaurants. But holy cow. They were all the same—little bar & grill or bistro-type places where rich people sit outside on the sidewalk or patio in their fedoras sipping lattes under umbrellas while Vespas and Porches buzz up and down the streets.

Ok. So seriously, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more pretentious place. It was like a myriad of Mariel Hemingway wannabes flashing their money. I don’t mean to sound bitter. I have no qualms with money, but that town reaked of it. I’ve never seen so many yuppies in one place in my life. And seriously, no fast food? I was like a force field designed to keep out normal people.

So we finally asked a local kid if he could point us in the direction of a family restaurant. He suggested the Ketchum Bar & Grill. I politely clarified what a family restaurant means. Apparently, EVERY restaurant in that city has a bar!

We asked if he could recommend anything inexpensive. He gave us a look like we were really weird foreigners, which I have no doubt we are in that town. He directed us to a little bistro on Main Street. We soon found out the restaurant didn’t exist. So we asked another local if he could recommend something. Yes, we were told. Go across the street to the upscale burger bar & grill. They serve burgers and fries for half-price from 4pm to 6pm. One problem. It’s 6 pm. Don’t worry, he tells us, they’ll extend it for you if you tell them I sent you.

At the burger place, I say, “I understand you have a ½-price special.

“Yes. But that’s from 4-6.”

“I see. But it is just after 6, will you extend the special for a few minutes?”

“No.”

“The guy across the street sent me…”

“No.”

“Well, seeing as how I can’t afford $15 burgers, I suppose I’ll go somewhere else.”

“Yeah. Heh, heh… Good luck with that…”

Then I found it. The pizza joint I remember visiting as a years ago. I casual hangout where folks munch on pizza, kick back a few cold ones, and shoot pool. Not exactly family, but it’ll do. At least it’s normal.

Ok, time for another digression. Some of my readers may remember this. Last time I went to this pizza place was about 15 years ago when the band I played in
rolled through town on our way to play the ElkHorn Resort. And when I say “rolled through town,” I mean it literally.

Our beloved leader of the band, a short sixty-plus-year-old white haired gent with a full white beard (known affectionately as Papa Smurf), was driving the bus, a beat-up old jalopy that resembled the Partridge Family-mobile. Well, not surprisingly, the brakes went out on this bus just as we were descending the hill leading to Ketchum. We rolled right through town, ran a few red lights, and came out the other side of town miraculously unscathed. We were able to slow down enough to pull into a campground outside of town a few miles to await repair.

The campground was a little dull, so a friend and I hitch-hiked into town, ended up at the pizza joint and shot pool most of the evening. We hitched back with some hippies who were VERY high. Quite a fun little experience.

Anyway, back to the story. Am I boring you yet?

ElGirlo, the boys, and I walked into the pizza joint, which had now transformed into this posh place cloned from every other uppity-up eatery in town. I was floored. But I was hungry. The boys saddled right up to the bar. I asked the bar tender if there are no fast-food placed in town. Sorry, no. Any family restaurants? Nope. We just want to get back on the road, I tell him. Is there anything to grab and go? Happily, he sells us some pre-made pizza slices to go and charges us an arm and a leg, which by now we were all too happy to pay.

We finally roll out of town after an hour delay in yuppie-ville.

But, here’s the problem.

The GPS unit is wigged out from me driving all over town to find a bite. After turning left and turning right more times than I can count, we headed out of town. The GPS was happy with where we were going apparently, but I got a little nervous as the road narrowed and I noticed we were the only car on it. Before I realized it, the pavement ended and we found ourselves on a narrow winding dirt trail overlooking a 1000-foot straight drop to the canyon below with no hope of turning around. Did I mention how much I love GPS units? State of the art? State of what art? For the record, I don’t need help getting lost. I’m quite capable of that myself.

After finally finding a small space to turn around, I turned the accursed Nav system off, found a map and went happily on my way past the “Unwelcome to Ketchum: Normal People Prohibited” sign.