I am so glad to be back in town. It's nice to travel but sometimes you miss the familiar surroundings. Here, I can find the nearest 7-11... there, I can't even find the airport. Whatever happened, either there or in transit, has really zapped my energy. I swear, I have never felt so tired. I've caught up on the sleep that was lost but I have no energy to do anything.
Today, I must have consumed more caffeine than usual because, well, I'm still up. I'm as awake now as I was earlier today at noon. Let me tell you my harrowing travel story:
I was going to visit one of our remote sites in Escanaba, Michigan. I flew out Monday morning to Detroit on an uneventful flight. I even paid the extra $50 to sit in first class (I'd never flown in first class before -- long story short: not impressed). Anyhow, I get to Detroit just fine and I'm sitting at the gate for my next flight. This flight is on a much smaller plane, the kind of plane where you have to walk out on the tarmac and up the stairs into the plane. No jetway for this airline.
So we're about 45 minutes into the 1 hour and 15 minute flight and the captain comes over the speaker and announces that we can't land in Marquette Michigan because there's 15 inches of snow on the ground and they're shut down -- no ground transportation, either. So we head back to Detroit. Oops, more bad news: Detroit has severe weather overhead and we'll have to circle the airport until it passes. Two hours later -- you read that right -- two hours later we land back at Detroit. My favorite part was playing "spot the airliner out the window" for the duration of the flight. You would think they'd be cool about the whole "electronic devices" thing but, no, I have to put the iPod away. The one thing that might have helped me get through.
So I get back to the attendant at the gate. They're telling me that "if it ain't shut down -- it will be soon" (that is, everything north of Detroit). The best she can do is get me back to Norfolk. I take it. I call my boss and tell her my tale of woe. She tells me "I'll make some calls and find you a flight out... possibly Green Bay". Fine, whatever.
She calls back and tells me to get on the 4:56 flight to Green Bay. It's roughly 11:30 in the a.m. when I hear this. Ugh! The 4:56 flight becomes the 5:15... then the 5:23.... then 5:40... then 5:55. The clerk at this gate informs us that if we aren't away from the gate by 6:01 that the flight crew is 'illegal' (in terms of hours flown) and that the flight will be delayed waiting for a new crew to arrive. People were running -- I mean sprinting -- to get on the airplane. The door on the plane was shut at 6:00 straight up. Both pilots ended up helping people get to their seats. I heard later that one of the flight attendants had flown in from Japan. I just wanted to get to Green Bay.
I'm in the air to Green Bay and endure the flight without incident. My rental car plans have been switched to Green Bay so I head to the counter to get my car and drive two hours east to Escanaba. "Row 3, car 14", she tells me. Fine. I walk through the automatic doors into the frozen tundra of Green Bay Wisconsin. The wind is blowing at about 40 miles an hour, which makes it feel like I'm walking through a room of dry ice. I'm walking up and down row 3 and there are no car 14's anywhere. The tag on the keys give me the car make and license number, but I don't see a car of this type or the license on ANY of the cars. My face is frozen by now -- I can't feel my eyebrows.
I walk back to the counter and announce to them that I can't find car 14 in row 3. "Did you walk to the right and follow the signs?" she asks. Well, I walked to the right. "Not straight out" (which is what I did). "Our lot is basically behind the building". Thanks for the info -- now!
I had gotten directions on where I was going but, in the future, I need to get more specific instructions as to direction. For instance, they tell me "Take 172 to 14". Okay, is that 172 North, or 172 South? I've got a 50/50 shot, so I go north. Turns out I made the right call.
Further down the road, my directions say to take 41 until you get to 35... 35 is supposed to take you right into town. Let me just say: there is NOTHING on 35. It is the most empty, bleak, deserted road you could ever imagine. I would not wish this road on my worst enemy and here I am in pitch black, cold, snowy conditions driving down this road -- and I'm not even sure I'm on the right road. If I'm not, there is NO place to turn around. So I'm basically on this dark, deserted road that I'm not even sure I'm supposed to be on.
The story has a happy ending because just when the darkness had completely sucked all light into this black hole, it dumped me out at the edge of town and I found my way from there. Whew! Now let me tell you the story of when I was heading back:
My flight was Sunday morning at 6:00am out of Marquette Michigan. That's okay, I like the early flight. I head out of Escanaba at 3:00am. My directions this time are to take 41 north until you get to Marquette, then hang a left on Airport road. Ha!
I'm on 41 and there's some temporary detour that I go through. The sign says "Marquette, stay in middle lane". Okay, I'm in the middle lane -- I stay. Using my earlier experience of driving up 35 I stay on this desolate road for as long as I can stand it. I keep looking at my gas gauge which is very close to empty. I'm still traveling down this road (which has become 2 East, all of the sudden) until I finally run into a gas station. I tell the guy behind the counter I'm trying to get to Marquette and I show him which direction I've generally been traveling. "Am I going in the right direction?", I ask.
"Not any more", he says. He draws a crude map on paper and explains each turn. "How long to get there from here?", I inquire.
"Well," he says "it usually takes me two hours -- but I poke along". At this point, my 6am flight is going to be taking off without me. After traveling that distance ALMOST all the way back to where I started, I end up reaching the airport and hour or so after the flight. The next one to Detroit is at 11:15am. I'm on stand-by. So I basically try and kill the next 4 hours of my life in a podunk little airport that has nothing, nothing, nothing around or in it.
By the time I get to Detroit, I have missed my connecting flight. I'm on stand-by again. The nice lady behind the counter says she'll try and get me on the 1:41 flight to Norfolk. All the time I'm thinking "I just want to get back home". I'm tired of traveling and I just want to see the face of someone I know. I want to see an intersection that I'm familiar with. Anything. I tell the woman "I can fit in the overhead compartment". She laughs.
I'm on the flight home 5 minutes before it takes off. I have parked my car in the long-term parking area of the airport. I drive up to the gate to pay my parking bill. I hand the girl my entry stub and ask what the damage is. I'm expecting an answer like $20 or $30. She says "$98, please".
"Seriously?!? Holy Crap" -- and I quote, that was my actual response.
I'd like to say 'never again' but I know that I'll probably be heading that way again in the next few months because we're supposed to be opening another office in that general area. No doubt I will be carrying my GPS with me when I go.
Today, I must have consumed more caffeine than usual because, well, I'm still up. I'm as awake now as I was earlier today at noon. Let me tell you my harrowing travel story:
I was going to visit one of our remote sites in Escanaba, Michigan. I flew out Monday morning to Detroit on an uneventful flight. I even paid the extra $50 to sit in first class (I'd never flown in first class before -- long story short: not impressed). Anyhow, I get to Detroit just fine and I'm sitting at the gate for my next flight. This flight is on a much smaller plane, the kind of plane where you have to walk out on the tarmac and up the stairs into the plane. No jetway for this airline.
So we're about 45 minutes into the 1 hour and 15 minute flight and the captain comes over the speaker and announces that we can't land in Marquette Michigan because there's 15 inches of snow on the ground and they're shut down -- no ground transportation, either. So we head back to Detroit. Oops, more bad news: Detroit has severe weather overhead and we'll have to circle the airport until it passes. Two hours later -- you read that right -- two hours later we land back at Detroit. My favorite part was playing "spot the airliner out the window" for the duration of the flight. You would think they'd be cool about the whole "electronic devices" thing but, no, I have to put the iPod away. The one thing that might have helped me get through.
So I get back to the attendant at the gate. They're telling me that "if it ain't shut down -- it will be soon" (that is, everything north of Detroit). The best she can do is get me back to Norfolk. I take it. I call my boss and tell her my tale of woe. She tells me "I'll make some calls and find you a flight out... possibly Green Bay". Fine, whatever.
She calls back and tells me to get on the 4:56 flight to Green Bay. It's roughly 11:30 in the a.m. when I hear this. Ugh! The 4:56 flight becomes the 5:15... then the 5:23.... then 5:40... then 5:55. The clerk at this gate informs us that if we aren't away from the gate by 6:01 that the flight crew is 'illegal' (in terms of hours flown) and that the flight will be delayed waiting for a new crew to arrive. People were running -- I mean sprinting -- to get on the airplane. The door on the plane was shut at 6:00 straight up. Both pilots ended up helping people get to their seats. I heard later that one of the flight attendants had flown in from Japan. I just wanted to get to Green Bay.
I'm in the air to Green Bay and endure the flight without incident. My rental car plans have been switched to Green Bay so I head to the counter to get my car and drive two hours east to Escanaba. "Row 3, car 14", she tells me. Fine. I walk through the automatic doors into the frozen tundra of Green Bay Wisconsin. The wind is blowing at about 40 miles an hour, which makes it feel like I'm walking through a room of dry ice. I'm walking up and down row 3 and there are no car 14's anywhere. The tag on the keys give me the car make and license number, but I don't see a car of this type or the license on ANY of the cars. My face is frozen by now -- I can't feel my eyebrows.
I walk back to the counter and announce to them that I can't find car 14 in row 3. "Did you walk to the right and follow the signs?" she asks. Well, I walked to the right. "Not straight out" (which is what I did). "Our lot is basically behind the building". Thanks for the info -- now!
I had gotten directions on where I was going but, in the future, I need to get more specific instructions as to direction. For instance, they tell me "Take 172 to 14". Okay, is that 172 North, or 172 South? I've got a 50/50 shot, so I go north. Turns out I made the right call.
Further down the road, my directions say to take 41 until you get to 35... 35 is supposed to take you right into town. Let me just say: there is NOTHING on 35. It is the most empty, bleak, deserted road you could ever imagine. I would not wish this road on my worst enemy and here I am in pitch black, cold, snowy conditions driving down this road -- and I'm not even sure I'm on the right road. If I'm not, there is NO place to turn around. So I'm basically on this dark, deserted road that I'm not even sure I'm supposed to be on.
The story has a happy ending because just when the darkness had completely sucked all light into this black hole, it dumped me out at the edge of town and I found my way from there. Whew! Now let me tell you the story of when I was heading back:
My flight was Sunday morning at 6:00am out of Marquette Michigan. That's okay, I like the early flight. I head out of Escanaba at 3:00am. My directions this time are to take 41 north until you get to Marquette, then hang a left on Airport road. Ha!
I'm on 41 and there's some temporary detour that I go through. The sign says "Marquette, stay in middle lane". Okay, I'm in the middle lane -- I stay. Using my earlier experience of driving up 35 I stay on this desolate road for as long as I can stand it. I keep looking at my gas gauge which is very close to empty. I'm still traveling down this road (which has become 2 East, all of the sudden) until I finally run into a gas station. I tell the guy behind the counter I'm trying to get to Marquette and I show him which direction I've generally been traveling. "Am I going in the right direction?", I ask.
"Not any more", he says. He draws a crude map on paper and explains each turn. "How long to get there from here?", I inquire.
"Well," he says "it usually takes me two hours -- but I poke along". At this point, my 6am flight is going to be taking off without me. After traveling that distance ALMOST all the way back to where I started, I end up reaching the airport and hour or so after the flight. The next one to Detroit is at 11:15am. I'm on stand-by. So I basically try and kill the next 4 hours of my life in a podunk little airport that has nothing, nothing, nothing around or in it.
By the time I get to Detroit, I have missed my connecting flight. I'm on stand-by again. The nice lady behind the counter says she'll try and get me on the 1:41 flight to Norfolk. All the time I'm thinking "I just want to get back home". I'm tired of traveling and I just want to see the face of someone I know. I want to see an intersection that I'm familiar with. Anything. I tell the woman "I can fit in the overhead compartment". She laughs.
I'm on the flight home 5 minutes before it takes off. I have parked my car in the long-term parking area of the airport. I drive up to the gate to pay my parking bill. I hand the girl my entry stub and ask what the damage is. I'm expecting an answer like $20 or $30. She says "$98, please".
"Seriously?!? Holy Crap" -- and I quote, that was my actual response.
I'd like to say 'never again' but I know that I'll probably be heading that way again in the next few months because we're supposed to be opening another office in that general area. No doubt I will be carrying my GPS with me when I go.