To go where many notable others have gone before...

So J and I just spent a lovely weekend in Napa having mud treatments, eating some really incredible food, soaking in a jumbo-sized bathtub and, er, drinking some wine. When we arrived in the quaint little town of Calistoga, where our almost-too-good-to-be-true bed and breakfast (The Meadowlark Inn) was located, we noticed signs for "California's Old Faithful," taunting us to come and see this wonder of nature.

This confused the hell out of me, since I'd always thought that Old Faithful was in Yellowstone National Park which is not in California -- or at least the last time I visited it wasn't. But, granted, that was many years ago. So, as I pulled the Chevy Impala that National rent-a-car was trusting me with for the weekend (boy, you know that life is grand when your rent-a-car isn't as nice as your real car!) into the parking lot of our home for the weekend on the edge of the Petrified Forest, J tells me that she really wants to go and see the geyser before we leave.

I could go either way on that one. I'm not exactly a Geyser Gazer (yes, there is such a thing -- I know two actual Geyser Gazers -- and, yes, it's exactly as it sounds), but I'm not opposed to checking them out if I happen to already be where a geyser sees fit to erupt.

On our final day, Sunday, we discuss over breakfast the things we want to be sure and do before heading back to the Oakland Airport to return home. There are two items at the top of our agenda that pertain to Calistoga: find a shot glass for Kira (the only one in Calistoga that we could find said Morro Bay on it...Morro Bay???) and visit the geyser.

After following a really lousy map (why do rental car companies always have such horrible maps? is it that difficult to dispense a good map?), we pull into a mostly empty parking lot guarded by an enormous American flag and set forth toward a small building where we are met with a sign informing us that many notable people have seen the wonder of nature that is the geyser before us.

Right on cue, J turns to me and says, "I'm not gonna pay to see this thing."

We walk through the doors and I'm instantly distracted by a sleepy white cat laying amongst the geological info and paraphernalia messily scattered about. As I'm petting the cat and getting suckered in by the ticky-tacky tourist trinkets, J is handing her credit card to a boy behind a cash register that sits in front of a sign informing us that adult admissions are $8.

EACH!!!

In all fairness to "California's Old Faithful," we did score a $1-off AAA discount. This is where I started to get a really bad feeling about this stop. In all fairness to the town of Calistoga, this gift shop did have shot glasses, but they were plain clear glass with little metal crest/shield-things with itty bitty writing and something about the geyser crookedly glued on. J made a comment about the odd assortment of items in the shop and we proceeded to head out the back door where the geyser was "scheduled" to erupt in approximately 15 minutes.

As we walked a rocky path toward the clearing that housed the wonder of nature, there was a small pen to our right containing a handful of "fainting goats," as indicated by a nearby sign. We emerged onto a clearing where a Bedrock-ish pond held murky water with steam rolling across the top and a gathering of larger stones in the center that coughed out a little spew of geyser gush after about five minutes.

To our right was what looked to be a dried-up well with what appeared to be several oxidized coins at the bottom and a sign (so many signs...) ordering us to keep out. Several green plastic lawn chairs were situated around the pond and about ten other suckers, I mean tourists, wandered the grounds with an eye on "California's Old Faithful." Video and still cameras were poised, ready to photograph at any given moment the wonder of nature that was about to shock and awe. Two teenage girls to the right were being silly and talking loudly, giggling intermittently, while two women near them shushed them as if we were in the public library. Did the women fear that if we aren't all super-quiet, Old Faithful might not be so faithful after all?

Ten minutes and three or four more spews of practice geyser gush later, we all watch as the geyser reaches maybe twenty-five yards. An eight-year-old boy to my left nearly nods off while J and I stifle laughter.

No ooooohs, no ahhhhhhs, and the only shock on anyone's face was the realization that they'd just paid $8 for something they can permanently recreate in their own front yard by spending $20 at Target. As we pulled the trusty Impala out of the parking lot and onto the nearby road, we noticed another sign: "Caution: Speeding Cars."

Yeah, speeding to get the hell out of this tourist trap, I thought.