Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation’s Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,
City of the Big Shoulders:
Uh, and more contemporarily; Destroyer of reasonable air travel schedules.
O'Hare: The heart of the heartland and a neutral corner for the coasties that can't quite fly all the way over 'flyover country' (how effete!)
The trip back to the land of fog and coffee began at 6:00 am in the mountains of West Virginia. Actually it started the night before: I had ‘stomach distress’ so did not get a lot of sleep, plus the packing, the good by-ing, all that.
A seven hour drive to Wa DC, then a hop to Chicago. Mrs C and I were on separate flights (don’t ask!) but she was routed through Minneapolis, so she gets the stub for the parked car because we both know that the chances are way high that I will inevitably spend a little 'quality time' at O’Hare. In rando-speak, it is bonus hours with no miles.
It could have been worse, but then again it could have been better. Two hours is not all that long a delay, … unless they close the door and push away from the gate only to discover out on the taxi way: “Oh golly, whats that… a line of thunder storms on the radar? “Looks like we could be here for about an extra 30 minutes folks." (X 4!)
So into Seatac at 9:30 or so, touching down at Rocky Acres International a little after midnight. Uh that’s midnight PDT, which is actually 3:00 am EDT.
So it seemed foolhardy to actually undertake the Summer 200K the next morning. I knew things would have to go just right to pull that off, but I also knew the Hog Butcher would likely jack me around.
Here is a little summer riddle for you: What’s worse?
A. Returning to work after a week away on vacation, or;
B. Sitting next to a suffering mom with a colicky baby for a 2 hour preflight 'chat' on the tarmac followed by 4 hours in the air?