Trip to Paradise

I love National Park inns.  I have listened to the lake lap the shore at Lake McDonald Lodge.  I have celebrated New Years in Yosemite.  Drank a warm scotch at El Tovar when it was zip degrees on the edge of the Grand Canyon.  I have eavesdropped on the disclosure of an affair at the Equinox (ok, not a National Park inn, but historic nonetheless).  I have peered into the windows of Old Faithful during a huge snowstorm.  So, I went to Mt. Rainier National Park to check out the renovation at Paradise Inn.

And I was disappointed.  

They removed the leather in the common room seats and put in nondescript fabric.  There are no carpets (it used to have beautiful Native American rugs), no weavings thrown over the beams, and the so-called Native American gift shop had absolutely nothing Native American or even made in America in it.  The bar is a tiny  corner of the common room that sells wine from extremely large bottles (white wine and red wine) and snacks in plastic packages.  Paradise Inn has lost its bearings.  It was bland, unimaginative, and sterile.  I would have never known I was in a sacred Pacific Northwest spot if I hadn't remembered I'd driven 3 hours to get there.  

There were no climbing objects, nothing reminding the public that they were at the base of one of the most difficult alpine climbs in North America....in short, the renovation was, well, sad.

It made me feel what I feel about most urban planning now: that we are reducing everything in our lives to homogenous.  

Sigh.

But, I did manage to sneak the "girls" out at Reflection Lake and let Sage have a great romp in the snow!  And, like Thomas Mann, the altitude did wonders for Murphy, because when we got home, she actually spent time chasing her tennis ball in the back yard.  For that, the long drive was worth it.

Murphy's paradise.