Here I was riding to the Raleigh airport on Wednesday (June 23, 2010) with James The Driver telling me about the book he's writing, I figured this is just another trip in the always exciting world of crowded airplanes and the sprawling dump that is O'Hare.
I had been in Raleigh, NC, for a conference, but now was headed home. I arrived at the airport and was a little concerned when I saw two United arrivals from Chicago had been cancelled, but I figured I was on American and they were showing on-time departures.
About 10 minutes before boarding, the captain came out of the jetway and commandeered the PA system. He said "those traveling to Chicago - I'm the guy who's going to get you there and you should hang up your cell phones right now because you're going to want to hear what I have to say." I looked around and saw a lot of cell phones snapping shut.
There were thunderstorms and tornado warnings in Chicago, so we were delayed, the pilot thought, until at least 8 p.m. (original departure was 6 p.m.). But things changed in Chicago, so we boarded at about 6:45. All right! I could still make my 9:15 p.m. connection to Hancock!
But - Ground Control to Major Tom -- we were boarded but conditions worsened in Chicago, so we would now wait again. "You can get off the plane," said the captain, "because we know it will be at least 50 minutes. But if you get off, you have to take all your stuff." I had a window seat, two good books, some chex mix, and a coveted spot in the overhead bin for my bag - so I decided to tough it out on the plane.
People started getting back on the plane a little before 8 and we were off to Chicago about 8:15. We were diverted around some storms, which lengthened the trip by about a half hour. It was kind of cool to be above thunderstorms and watch the lightning from above.
Once in Chicago, I had to switch from American to United, so I had a two-terminal walk and, of course, American folks didn't know the status of United flights. Jan had left a voice mail that the plane to Hancock was delayed by 133 minutes, so I thought, "OK, this is the lucky part of the trip." When I got to the United terminal, though, the departure board did not list a flight to Hancock, so i figured my luck had run out.
I went down to one of the gates where the commuter jets leave from. This is a really dumpy, dirty part of the airport, pretty much the Third World of O'Hare, and that's saying something. There seemed to be a lull in departures, so I went to the person at the desk and asked her to check on my flight to Hancock. Turns out it had been only about 10 minutes late in departing and was long gone. She checked and all the Thursday flights (yes, all two of them) to Hancock were already full with waiting lists, so it will be Friday at the earliest. She was then very patient as I asked her to check on alternatives.
My first alternative was to fly to Green Bay and rent a car to drive the 200 miles home. In fact, Jan checked on that while i was airborne, but none of the car rental companies would rent one-way - imagine that!
Second alternative was to try [Delta airline] to get to one of the two airports a little over 100 miles from Hancock - one in Rhinelander, WI, and one in Marquette MI. For Marquette, you go through Detroit. I could get to Detroit, but there were no more connections to Marquette that night and the three Thursday flights were already full.
For Rhinelander, you go through Minneapolis and, yes, there were no more connections to Rhinelander that night. BUT, there was one more flight that night to Minneapolis and then I could get a seat to Rhinelander in the morning. This is now 10 p.m. CDT, and the flight to Minneapolis was leaving in about 40 minutes. I rebooked me to Minnie and then to Rhinelander the next morning and I headed to yet another terminal.
The plane left about 10:45 p.m. CDT. As we were pushed back from the gate, the pilot came on the PA. "Because of the traffic disruptions tonight, we've been experiencing one-hour taxis for eastbound and about a half-hour for westbound," she said. "So we could be on the taxiway for awhile." I think we finally took off about 11:15 and arrived in Minneapolis at something like 12:15 a.m. (which is, of course, 1:15 a.m. EDT). I called a couple of hotels from my cell and found that the AmericInn near the airport had one room left for the night, but their shuttle had stopped running so I'd need to take a cab.
I grabbed a cab and told him my destination and he looked confused. "Ever heard of that hotel?" I asked. He admitted he had not. So I called the hotel and asked for their address and the cross street. "77th St. and Portland Ave." I knew where that was (I had lived in Minneapolis for two years) and told the driver the address and cross street. A few minutes later, we were on I-494 and he was in the center lane with the 77th Street exit looming ahead. I told him "here's the exit" and he made the right turn out of the center lane. He then got on his GPS looking for directions --- while the big AmericInn sign was clearly visible about 1/4-mile ahead. I tactfully pointed that out to him. No tip tonight, dude.
I had a conversation with the desk clerk that went something like this:
"Where you from?"
"Hancock Michigan in the U.P"
"What are you doing here? Long day?"
"You have no idea, pal."
Thursday morning was uneventful, given that I had gone to bed about 2 a.m. and was up at 6 to get back to the airport. I had actually considered just heading to the airport mezzanine and sleeping there, but figured I'd at least get a shower at a hotel.
Back to the airport - flew through security - off to the gate where two obvious city slickers kept being amazed at how many people were going to little old Rhinelander. "Must be a fishin' derby." Yeah, real clever guy.
Laura drove down to Rhinelander to pick me up, and I slept for most of the two-hour drive back home.
Who says there's no excitement living in a small town?
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