Ah, home. We finally got back about 10:30 yesterday morning, after missing our connecting flight in Portland. We were flying Horizon Air from Pendleton to Portland, then Alaska Air from Portland to LAX. We were mightily impressed with the friendliness and helpfulness of all concerned – they put us up in Portland and gave us meal vouchers, and we flew out of Portland at 7am yesterday. But enough of that. This entry is actually about our vacation, in particular an incident that transpired in Prospect, Oregon.
Prospect is a very small town. I mean, really small. Population 700 small. One hotel, two restaurants (one of them in the hotel), one gas station. A teeny tiny airstrip where we landed. That about sums the place up. What it lacked was a rental car agency of any sort, a problem for us as we flew in and had no way to get to Crater Lake (the whole point of our going there). This nearly put us off Prospect altogether, until we heard about Flo. Flo is the sister of a woman who works at The Chateau at the Oregon Caves. We were going to stay there for a night but weather precluded us making it to the Oregon coast. However, before that happened we were telling the woman at the Chateau about our plans to go to Prospect as a jumping off point for Crater Lake but that as there were no rental cars, we were going to pass and stay instead in Klamath Falls. She said, “Oh, you can rent my sister Flo’s car! She has one that she rents out often to pilots flying into Prospect!” And it turned out Flo also worked at the Prospect Hotel, the only hotel in Prospect. So we called the Prospect Hotel and asked for Flo, who told us she did indeed have a car for rent, and yes it would be available when we needed it. Hot dog! Then she gave us the instructions about operating the car. First you needed to turn the On/Off switch on before puting the key in the ignition. Hmm. The keys would be in the ashtray as the car didn’t lock. Hmmm. And the car was a 1985 Chrysler New Yorker. Hmmmm. Beggars can’t be choosers, however, so a day later we found ourselves arriving in Prospect and there it was in all its glory, a humongous rusted black Chrysler New Yorker. It had kitchen cupboard handles for the inside as the originals had fallen off some time before, but was quite deluxe on the inside with electronic windows (only the driver’s window worked reliably), an AM/FM cassette sereo (that didn’t work), an onboard computer for tracking mileage (that didn’t work), and an electronic warning system that was extremely vigilant. It constantly warned us that our oil pressure was low, and that our washer fluid was low, and if you didn’t fasten your seat belt pretty quick, it nagged and nagged until you did. Its top speed was about 50 MPH, anything above that and it shook and wobbled like nobody’s business. Its alignment was dreadful, driving it in a straight line took much vigilance and constant steering, and it shook when you applied the brakes. The good news/bad news was the fact that it didn’t lock was of little concern. Who in their right mind would steal this car? My sister was in the front passenger seat and quickly discovered that the back of the seat was broken. She leaned back in the seat and before she knew it was in Chuck’s lap. So he kept having to push her back into an upright position as the jostling of the raod waould make the seat gradually ease backwards.
That first day when we arrived at the hotel, Flo was there and had my sister sign the rental agreement and pay for the car. When Louise was done we asked her what the daily rate was. She said (I thought) $5 a day – that seemed about right for such a dicey vehicle. When I said that, Louise said, “No, no, not $5 a day, $55 a day!” That Flo – she may have looked like a sweet old grandmother, but she was one smart cookie. When you’re the only show in town, you can charge whatever the market will bear. So we trundled slowly about Crater Lake, unworried about car thieves and feeling quite twenty-years-ago-posh in our Chrysler New Yorker.