Saturday, January 14, 2006


I realize that a majority of my postings deal with the wonderful world of travel. Though I try to limit them, there are times that it can’t be helped.
There are times that transportation is funny.
Plus, sometimes I feel like all I do is travel.

The previous post was written at the Denver airport while I was almost patiently awaiting my two hour delayed flight to Anchorage.
The cause of the delay was a lack of pilot. He was on another punctually challenged flight.

When he had finally boarded, a half an hour after the rest of us, an announcement came from the front. Our captain was attempting to re-route our flight plan. There was a looming possibility of the flight being further delayed.
Why would they have to change the flight plan?
Why would they consider canceling our trip?
Because of the volcano.

As we sat in the stale re-circled airplane air they tell us that a freaking volcano might hold up our thoughts of leaving Colorado.
180 miles south west of anchorage is a volcano about to/ in the process of erupting.
And 180 miles in a very short distance when it comes to the volcanic ash that fills the air, coats the ground, and does bad things to aircrafts.

After another 20 minuets of planning and re-planning we left the ground.

Oh yeah, there is a crying baby directly behind me.

Stupid Friday the 13th.

Upon arrival in Anchorage the “Arrivals” board was covered with interesting word.


Every Alaskan Airlines flight from the lower 48 was canceled. All Continental flights followed suit.
In fact the only airline that got in at this late hour was United.

Damn volcano.

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