I got to the airport early, dropped off the rental car, and walked around the mall-like atmosphere of the beyond-security concourses for a bit. They have a Fox News store in there, for crying out loud.
Some of my coworkers are good at bringing gifts back from their trips, so I bought some knickknack picture magnets for them, got a pricey haircut ($24!) and a salad at Quizno’s before finding my gate, which was a zoo.
They had overbooked, and were offering a $400 travel voucher and a meal voucher for anyone who would agree to take a later flight. No one wanted to, and if anything it made us antsier to rush the loading bridge to the plane. Having booked seat 12A, I thought I might be screwed out of overhead bin space because our group was one of the last to board, but I found space for my small suitcase and buckled myself in. To sit, and wait.
We were already late, and now we spent a good 45 minutes waiting to take off. Of course my cell phone rang after we had been told to turn of all electronic devices; I shut it off quick. It was my wife, and I would come to regret not having called her sooner, from the airport, as I thought she was going to pick me up at SFO.
When we were cleared to leave we hit a lot of turbulence. It was a very rocky start to the flight. Have you ever had a window seat and you look out to see the wings flexing in the strong wind? yeah, it was one of those. They kept the seatbelt light on for quite a while, until the pilots got clearance to keep climbing and we went above the clouds, all white and puffy below us as they dumped floodwaters on southern Minnesota.
Sometimes I can sleep on planes, but this wasn’t one of those flights. It was a miserable ride home, the kind of trip that had me longing for the time to make a leisurely cross-country trip instead. Rather than sitting in a plane, taking my time to see the western U.S. Oh well, perhaps some day if / when I retire.
Called the missus when I got home, and thought she’d be close to SFO, but we had our wires crossed, and she thought I was taking BART. so I waited for the train, riding it right past my office, where I’d be in less than 12 hours. Nope, I wasn’t tempted to save myself the commute.
A couple days later I found out that the highway I’d taken to the airport was closed due to flooding, and the governor was asking for federal disaster relief.
Zumbro Falls, the little town nearest where my friend Diamond Jim lived, made the news for the flooding. I guess I’d gotten out just in time.
Um, “…wings flexing in the strong wind…”??? You’ve just validated my unwavering decision (made several years ago) never to fly, again. Road trips are definitely the way to go if you have the time.
Loved how you described climbing above the clouds “all white and fluffy as they dumped floodwaters on southern Minnesota”. That they did! You got out in the nick of time.
Too bad about the communication breakdown with your wife but all’s well that ends well…I guess that’s a good thing.
I enjoyed your description too (except for the part about the wings flexing because I don’t like flying and have a flight coming up in the near future). I’d like to take a cross country trip through the west, too.
Wait, the wings were visibly flexing in the wind? Oh, good lord. I’m gripping the armrests of my office chair just imagining that.
Yeah, well, it’s not like a bird’s wings flapping or anything, but the wings aren’t completely rigid. They’re designed to have a tiny bit of give to them.