So, our flight was scheduled to leave Sacramento International Airport at 6:35 in the morning. That means my alarm goes off at 4:15am (I went to bed at approx. 1:30am). Check in and boarding goes smoothly. Peter and I, with caffeinated beverages in tow, think that despite the heavy rain and wind we'll be off in no time, bouldering at the Texan mecca Hueco Tanks in a couple of hours.
At about the time we should have taken off, our captain informs us all that there exists a gyro-thing-a-ma-gig in the plane that has not been aligned, and without which, we can not take off. It'll only be a matter of minutes he assures us. The wind, you see, is rocking the plane too much the gyros can't align! Like a sea captain without his compass our pilot plods about the runway trying to find our leeward salvation. I remarked on several occasions during this manic search that the leeward side would be found on the opposite side of the terminal, but no one seemed to listen. After two hours, and only after watching another Southwest plane successfully takeoff for El Paso, we were all informed that the flight had been cancelled.
This guy seemed to know what he was doing so I thought I'd do the same.
At about the time we should have taken off, our captain informs us all that there exists a gyro-thing-a-ma-gig in the plane that has not been aligned, and without which, we can not take off. It'll only be a matter of minutes he assures us. The wind, you see, is rocking the plane too much the gyros can't align! Like a sea captain without his compass our pilot plods about the runway trying to find our leeward salvation. I remarked on several occasions during this manic search that the leeward side would be found on the opposite side of the terminal, but no one seemed to listen. After two hours, and only after watching another Southwest plane successfully takeoff for El Paso, we were all informed that the flight had been cancelled.
This guy seemed to know what he was doing so I thought I'd do the same.
Peter and I mobilized into action. We picked up our luggage, re-booked flights for later that evening and called for a shuttle to take us home to rest. At least we could get one last decent meal and maybe catch a few more winks.
Alas, we arrived home in time to witness a hurricane bitch slap Peter's infant home. The side gate was snapped in two, the climbing wall's roof was under threat of being carried off by pterodactyls, and the house was leaking. I could see the look on his face. It read, "to whom it may concern, what the fuck is going on? My head is about to explode. I don't think I'm going to Hueco anymore." This wasn't good. I did my best to help by going to get myself some lunch and dry clothes. Meanwhile, Peter busied himself by running to the hardware store, patching the roof, defending the climbing wall, and ignoring the gate.
In the end, the castle was saved and the people returned to their normal lives.
Round two of the flights went well. Aside from an enormous line to check-in (apparently we weren't the only ones who had a flight cancelled) we could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Kevin greeted us at the airport and took us to our final destination. It was dark when we arrived and there was no moon. It wasn't until morning that we got our first glimpse.
3 comments:
Wow, dude. I hope that yr days in Hueco are rather less harried than that one.... But hell, it'll be funny in a year. Also, I would caution you against genuflecting in airports; security guards are touchy about the whole "praying to Mecca" thing. Or so I hear.
Just to clarify, the dude was using his cell phone. We weren't praying to anybody. That we happened to be facing east was just coincidence, I swear.
(1) Who am I? :
"My finger hurts. My finger is busted. I went to Hueco and crushed it's face off."
(2) I like how your hat matched your starbucks cup. Good planning.
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