8-15-04 Reno, Nevada

            Reno, continued.  We checked out of the Atlantis and went back to the Peppermill.  We ended up in the same room I had rented earlier, in the motor court lodge.

            We changed to our swimsuits, picked up a paper and magazine, and hit the pool/Jacuzzi.

            It began clouding up early, and by midday, we started seeing some lightning and light rains in the distance.

            After a long session of pooling, we headed over to the Peppermill's Oceana restaurant.  Our waiter at the Oceana rode a Honda Magna.  He'd dumped it three times, always on curves with sand, and once had suffered some fairly bad abrasions. 

            In comparing the Atlantis seafood to the Peppermill seafood, there was none.  The Peppermill was clearly better.

            In fact, in our opinion, The Peppermill was a better hotel overall.  The room was cleaner (Atlantis had a dead fly on the bathroom floor), we didn’t get awakened early (both mornings the maid at the Atlantis had left the clock radio set to a Latin music station, loud, and lit us up at 6:15 AM), and there was no sports book lounge at the Atlantis, where the Peppermill had two seating areas, one for horse racing and one for sports events.  The  Atlantis had a sports book but it was about as large as an aisle between the slot machines.            

            The only thing the Atlantis had over the Peppermill was its lounge areas, the quiet places away from the constant noise of the casino, allowing one to sit in peaceful surroundings.

            I played “Travel Clock” in the sports book.  The horse came in dead last.  Kate won at Roulette, so our room and lunch was pretty much paid for.

            Kate's plane left at 7:25 PM.  I talked to Kate around 10:45 PM.  The flight went to Las Vegas, and then on to San Diego.  It was bumpy over the mountains coming into San Diego, but it always is.  The ups and downs are due to the low altitude crossing the mountains on the descent into Lindberg Field.  It is the nature of flights into San Diego from the east.  Kate did not get airsick and did not puke, not like her last air trip from  'Vegas.  

            Hey, Frank, what friends are for, right?  Frank had won a hat playing poker at the Flamingo Hilton.  Frank had the only thing that looked remotely like an airsick bag, and Frank responded quickly when needed, although possibly without much forethought.  Frank did not want his hat back.