Moving On

The original purpose behind The Fourteen Percent Ride has long since been fulfilled. So, I've decided that Mighty Proud will be the last posting. It just seems right.

But, don't worry. Or maybe you should. In any event, I plan to continue. I'll keep riding. And writing. Click here to come along in my new blog ~ The Long White Line. <-- check it out!


As I've ridden for the last two years, I've picked up on the fact that Shirley, my darling wife, has been more worried about my safety than impressed with my "accomplishments." How do I know this? Well, when I'd come back and tell her, for example, that I'd hit 53.6 mph going down FO, she'd reply, "I don't want to hear it." Being the sensitive sort I figured out, after many such comments, that just maybe we were not on the same page here. But last week, she told me that she would "greatly reduce her focus on the 'fear for my safety' issue." We talked about the tour, looked at some maps, researched nutrition suggestions on the internet, and so on, just enjoying the idea of the ride. How nice is that? Thank you, Shirley!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Where's a Bike When You Need One?

In theory, theory and practice are the same. In practice, they are not.

Shirley and I are, in theory, flying from Palm Springs to Chicago to La Crosse on Monday, leaving California at 1:10 p.m. and arriving home at 9:10 p.m. In practice, we are flying from Palm Springs to Chicago three hours later than planned; then being booked on Tuesday’s 9:15 a.m. flight to La Crosse; seeing this flight cancelled at 9:00 p.m. Monday, even before our plane arrives in Chicago; finding out that, not to worry, we are being conveniently re-booked on the 8:00 p.m. flight on Tuesday (hey, only 24 hours late); being told that the reservation I had made at the O'Hare airport Hilton for just this situation is nowhere to be found, this calling forth visions of spending the night on one of the many basic green cots that had been set up in Terminal 3; but finally getting the whole hotel thing sorted out after a call to (where I had been directed by American Airlines to make the booking in the first place); discovering that the hotel's mantra is “spare no expense” (as long as it's YOUR expense); finally getting a little good news in the morning: we are now booked on the 4:40 p.m. flight; having lunch at 10:10 a.m. because breakfast is served until 10:00. Sharp; getting a bit more good news as our standby status on the 1:25 flight is changed to confirmed by the very helpful and efficient (really) Admirals Club agent.

That brings us to the present. I am sitting in the Admirals club hoping that our flight leaves somewhere in reasonable proximity to its planned 1:25 departure. That’s the theory. But, in practice…

After 26 hours in transit, only 4 1/2 of which were actually in the air, we arrive at the La Crosse airport at 2:29 p.m. Our luggage is off on an adventure of its own, we discover. I hope to hear from it sometime this week.

After all of this, it is time to get back into the swing of things. This means I get in the mail and newspapers, shovel the driveway and sidewalk, run to the store for basic provisions, crash for 40 minutes then take off for a mission trip meeting. I welcome this more laid back pace.

A quick check of the flights from Chicago shows that the 4:40 flight was cancelled and the 8:00 p.m. flight is delayed at least 30 minutes. I'm guessing that will change and not in a good way for the waiting passengers. Think green cots. We got out of O'Hare just in time. I decided early this morning, when we were looking at staying in Chicago until 8:00 p.m. (giving the weather time to turn nasty again which, in fact, it did. With a vengance.), to re-schedule my business trip to Tyler, Texas from tomorrow until a week from next Monday. Maybe my luggage will get tired of life on the road and come back before then.

I know I could not have made the trip any faster on a bike, but it would have been more enjoyable, I'm sure.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Luggage does seem to be obstreperous and have a mind of its own at time. Maybe it resents being referred to as LUG-gage?