On the Road to Tahoe With Martha and Sara

FADE IN:

Exterior, day.

Long shot: A late-model black Toyota Celica convertible, top down, winds sedately north on Highway 49 near Angels Camp, Calif.

Close-up: Two very attractive women, mid-30s, wearing sunglasses and baseball caps, noses whitened by sunscreen, wiping sweat from their brows. It is 106 degrees in the blazing July sun.

MARTHA

“Would it be just too wimpy if we put the top on this thing and turned on the air conditioning?”

SARA

“And what’s the matter with wimpy?”

Everyone agreed we looked frazzled.

Sara had worked three weeks without a day off at her job managing a theater company. I had been playing single mom to daughters age 4 years and 16 months while dad was away on business. As much as Thelma and Louise ever did, we needed an escape.

Take a couple of days off, said our husbands, who are a bit more supportive than the men in the movie.

They didn’t have to mention it twice.

Sara suggested San Francisco for its Shakespeare Festival. I countered with South Lake Tahoe. I don’t know whether it was the prospect of factory-outlet shopping or Fourth of July fireworks on the lake shore that won her over, but next thing I knew she was making reservations for “Ziegfeld--A Night at the Follies” at Harrah’s Casino Hotel.

We would drive up Wednesday afternoon, July 3, stay overnight at a motel, then return after the fireworks show on the 4th. Assuming the role of vacation authority (I had the guidebook), I assured her the drive is only two hours from our home in the Sierra foothills town of Sonora; we’d be home by midnight.

Women’s best-laid plans, no less than men’s, often go awry. I miscalculated the trip’s length by about an hour, and we got stuck in a nightmarish two-hour traffic jam after the fireworks. We ended up getting home at 3:30 a.m., blotto with exhaustion.

Was it worth it?

You betcha.

CUT TO:

The South Shore Room, Harrah’s. Waiters circulate carrying trays laden with pink and white drinks. Numerous maraschino cherries.

Crowd shot: Chubby, pale-faced, middle-aged and older. Many have made unwise clothing selections.

Close-up: Our extremely attractive heroines, looking fabulous in tasteful summer-weight evening clothes.

MARTHA

“How many of the people here do you suppose are saying to themselves, ‘I’m not really the kind of person who does this kind of thing. This is just a goof?”’

SARA

“All of ‘em.”

Tahoe’s virtues as a quick vacation spot are many. Principally, it offers a broad variety of indoor and outdoor pursuits. Making plans before we left, Sara informed me she was after two things: a nice, quiet dinner with wine and some kind of a show.

Me? I wanted to eat a complete breakfast without anyone escaping her high chair, and take a walk in the woods without anyone whining, “Carry me.”

Tahoe easily fulfilled our requirements. Our dinner, at a fern-filled and cedar-shingle restaurant picked out of the Yellow Pages, included a half-bottle of good Chardonnay and enough sour cream to permanently undermine the T-Factor diet. The women featured in the Harrah’s show wore, among other things, spangled translucent body stockings. The men wore tuxedoes. Thelma and Louise would have gunned down the sexist costumer. We contented ourselves with giving the production a bad review.

“Canned,” pronounced Sara.

At breakfast, I read the entire front section of a newspaper uninterrupted, and continued on my lifelong search for the world’s best chili bean omelet. (I’m still looking.)

CUT TO:

A very busy restaurant, folksy Alpine decor, many families. Our healthy and attractive heroines, wearing crisp white cotton shirts and khaki shorts, are eating huge breakfasts, which they deserve because they are readying for a hike. Martha is gazing fondly at something.

SARA

“You’re looking at a baby, aren’t you?”

MARTHA

“How did you know?”

SARA

“You get a certain look in your eye.”

We took a meandering walk among wildflowers and the aptly named quaking aspen trees on the Fallen Leaf Lake Trail, which departs from the U.S. Forest Service visitors’ center on California 89 just north of South Lake Tahoe. Crowded as the area was on a holiday, we didn’t have to walk far before the smell of pine overcame that of fossil fuels, and the voices of the birds overcame their human counterparts.

My husband says the principal difference between fathers and mothers is that fathers swim and mothers wade. He may be right. Sara and I never ventured more than calf-deep into the snow-freshened water of the lake, in spite of unusually warm air temperatures, in the upper 80s.

CUT TO:

A loose rock and timber dam across Walker Creek just north of Fallen Leaf Lake.

Close-up: Our heroines, looking remarkably fit and attractive in spite of their age, balancing precariously as they step gingerly across the dam.

MARTHA (emphatically)

“But the map says we cross a dam.”

SARA

“Do you really think the U.S. Forest Service sends 500 visitors a day across this dam?”

CUT TO (a few minutes later):

A concrete dam with a catwalk for hikers, a few hundred yards upstream. Our heroines walking across it, engaged in animated conversation.

SARA

“And furthermore, I didn’t know that when you said a walk, you meant a hike!”

What we mostly did was talk--about our spouses, our friends, children, sliding glass doors and vinyl floor covering (Sara and her husband are building a house), work, food, our thickening and aging bodies, our fathers, our mothers, our childhoods.

We also lost a combined total of $12 playing slots and electronic draw poker at Harrah’s, spent two hours doing nothing more than watching sky, lake and people as the sun sank at Zephyr Cove on the Nevada side of the lake, and bought presents for husbands, kids and selves at the factory outlet stores at the intersection of State 89 and U.S. 50 just west of town.

CUT TO:

Interior, a jewelry store in a shopping mall near the outlet stores.

MARTHA

“I need a pair of small earrings that the baby can’t pull off my ears. What do you think of these hearts?”

SARA

“Don’t you think you’re a little, uh, . . . .”

MARTHA

“Too old for hearts?”

SARA

“Let’s say experienced.”

Unlike Thelma and Louise, we neglected to bring a firearm and so were spared certain of their adventures. Also unlike them, we drove right on by the two hitchhikers we saw, assuming they were ax murderers even though one was pretty good-looking. Neither did we drink the pint-size bottles of whiskey proffered by the friend who had lent the convertible. And we had no soundtrack, having forgotten to bring any cassettes.

All in all, our trip was more like the one Thelma and Louise intended in the first place, before Louise blew away the sleazeball and Thelma discovered her knack for crime.

On the beach at Zephyr Cove, waiting for the fireworks to begin, we agreed that travel is as much a mental as a physical getaway. One’s routine challenges--whether they are balancing books or getting the kids fed and to bed on time--are replaced by new ones, like reading a map and finding a place to have dinner.

Like Thelma and Louise, our trip to South Lake Tahoe was a story of female liberation. Our liberation may not be the stuff of big box office receipts, but, happily, it wasn’t as final as theirs, either.

CUT TO:

Exterior, night. Martha, looking relaxed and attractive in spite of it being 3:30 a.m., pulls the Celica into her driveway, noting with approval the newly mowed lawn. The porch light is on. Martha’s husband rushes out to greet her with a warm embrace. They kiss.

ROLL CREDITS

GUIDEBOOK

South Lake Tahoe

Getting there: From Los Angeles, take Interstate 5 north past Sylmar to California 14. Stay on State 14 for about 120 miles east to U.S. 395, then north on 395 past Mammoth Lakes to California 89 near the town of Topaz, a few miles from the California-Nevada border. Head west on State 89 about 45 miles to U.S. 50, then take U.S. 50 about 5 miles to South Lake Tahoe.

Where to stay: A double room (two beds) at the Tahoe West Motor Lodge, P.O. Box CCC, South Lake Tahoe, Calif. 96157, telephone (916) 544-6455, runs about $68 per night.

Where to eat: Dinner for two at Nephele’s, 1169 Ski Run Road, South Lake Tahoe, (916) 544-8130, is about $65, including wine, tax, tip. Brunch for two at Heidi’s, about 1 1/2 miles west of Stateline, Nev., on U.S. 50, (916) 544-8113, costs about $21 with tax and tip.

What to do: Two tickets for “Ziegfeld--A Night at the Follies” at Harrah’s Casino Hotel in Stateline costs $55 (includes drinks, tip). The show is scheduled to run through Sept. 2. Call (800) 648-3773.

For more information: Call the Lake Tahoe Visitors Authority at (800) 288-2463 for lodging information.